OceanofPDF.com

Let Us Tell You Again

Book 13 of the April series

Mackey Chandler

Cover by Sara Hoyt

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Previously:

“Go ahead and take the lead question,” Jeff said.

“Have you looked at the North American news this morning?” Leo asked.

“No, I was in entirely too good of a mood having wrapped up this agreement. Are you about to spoil that?” Jeff asked.

“That is of course yours to determine. The USNA Space Force absolutely denies the weapons on the Constitution were of the nature you described. Since this is the start point for this entire conflict and disagreement, I thought you’d want to address it.”

“Otis, have the Hawaiian gentleman who brought all of you over in the truck go back to Dionysus’ Chariot and bring us the proof package back.”

“Ah, you anticipated this issue might come up,” Leo said.

“Indeed, we did. I might take a few questions from the others while we are waiting.”

The questions were lowball and cautious, even though they all had copies of the agreement and could have asked about details of it. They were waiting to see how he answered Champion.

When the truck returned Otis retrieved a white cylinder from the bed. It was flat on one end and hemispherical on the other. Even though he had enhanced strength and wore powered armor, he fairly staggered under the heavy load. That was obvious from how far he had to lean back cradling it in his arms to get under the balance point.

Mackay rushed forward to help him ease it to the hangar floor, and about half the press corps and Tanaka’s delegation stepped back when they realized what it was. That was silly. They’d have needed to retreat to the other side of the island to be safe if the weapon presented any danger.

“This is my proof,” Jeff said in a soft voice. “We’re disassembling one right now on the Moon. This is my gift to Hawaii. I suggest you enlist someone with experience in nuclear weaponry to help you dismantle it safely. The French come to mind as a good possibility. We realized these would have a destruct mechanism in case you fire it off and change your mind. It also will auto-engage after a time if the target is not intercepted. That doesn’t detonate it. It just engages the chemical charges out of sequence to blow it to pieces well past reverse engineering.

“We removed the receivers for that function some distance away. The North Americans have been transmitting the destruct code in the K band from orbit the last couple of days to no effect. Of course, without the nuclear portion going off, it would be hard to tell if any of them received the signal and self-destructed.

“The disassembly we are doing is far enough along that I can tell you with certainty you will find plenty of contractor logos and agency names written on components to know this is a North American device.

“I find I don’t want to take any more questions. Let’s get to the signing so we can all go home,” Jeff requested.

Three copies of the agreement were laid out on a low table with a fresh pen for each. There was a seat to allow signing without leaning over awkwardly. As they’d agreed privately, Quincy Love stepped forward and signed each in turn. Jeffrey Singh then signed them and applied his hanko. Prime Minister Tanaka was the only witness signing and surprised them by having a hanko too. Jeff didn’t want a dozen signatories and didn’t see the point of them with modern media and recording. It wasn’t like witnesses would be asked later to verify their marks. Several photographers recorded the event and it was streamed out live.

When they were done a Hawaiian officer enclosed each copy in a leather-covered hard folder and presented them to the signatories. Tanaka and Love shook hands with him and Jeff went straight to his ship.

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Chapter 1

As soon as Jeff Singh left the treaty signing to return to his ship the North American negotiator, Quincy Love, turned to his Hawaiian-supplied security and asked to be returned to his hotel rooms. The press, seeing the principal parties departing, immediately started signing off and packing up their equipment. Other minor officials and witnesses, seeing the party was over headed for the exits too.

Prime Minister Tanaka was temporarily besieged by his own military and law enforcement, demanding what they should do with the nuclear weapon at their feet with which Jeff had gifted them. By the time he made clear to them that he wanted it as far from Honolulu as possible and secured in a remote location, the hangar was almost cleared. It was far too late to stop the crowd at the exits or recall them. His security people were still standing at their posts around the perimeter but the janitors were there too, looking eager to clean up and close the hangar.

Tanaka looked around dismayed. The hangar floor was cleared and the remnants of the crowd at the exits all had their backs to him. His Business Minister, Naito, was still standing fast by him but even the mayor of Honolulu and his aide were in retreat for the exit.

“I had no idea the signatories would just abruptly march off without taking time to issue closing statements to the press. I was going to propose an official luau tomorrow as a grand celebration. That isn’t going to work with the guests of honor gone.”

“That’s pretty hard to top as a closing statement,” Naito said, gesturing at the white cylinder of the nuclear weapon resting on the hangar floor. “I suspect the North Americans never thought he’d offer hard evidence of what sort of weapons their ship carried. If they had, they never would have issued a flat denial. Other governments would at most offer up some photos or video as evidence. A sample of their enemy's most advanced weapon is an intelligence bonanza few would share.”

Tanaka looked deeply thoughtful. An expression Naito wasn’t used to seeing on his face. “That tells me they see little value in the tech. They must have as good or better and it was worth more to publicly call their hand. I think you got the key point there when you said other governments . Singh and his ladies are not a traditional government. I don’t get the impression it was ever something to which they aspired. They are just some very strange people who fell into significant powers and perforce they had to ride the tiger. There’s no predicting what they may do because they are amateurs .”

Naito had to stifle a smile at the strong disapproval Tanaka put on that word.

The roar of the drive from Dionysus’ Chariot made them turn their heads and look out the open hangar doors. The dark wedge of the ship was already well off the ground rising on a pencil line of purple flame when it simply winked out of existence. The roar cut off abruptly a couple of seconds later.

“North America should be more cautious and treat these odd amateurs with all due respect until they can do that ,” Naito concluded.

“That’s some seriously spooky stuff,” Tanaka agreed.

“Thank you for your support,” Naito said, taking advantage of the break in the conversation to take his leave like everybody else, but trying to be gracious with his Prime Minister. “I think this entire affair left us looking very good, and the fact North America didn’t contest having the talks here would make arguing against the reality of our independence in the future rather difficult.” That nicely said, he was done here having reinforced Tanaka’s acceptance of the conference like a good salesman reinforces the customer’s decision against remorse.

“As if you left me any way to beg off. You got away with it this time,” Tanaka said, wagging a warning finger at him, “but if you keep pulling this sort of stunt it will eventually blow up in your face. Don’t think for a moment I wouldn’t have put the whole thing on your head if it had turned into a fiasco. You are almost as dangerous and unpredictable as these Spacers.”

“I’ll only take such risks if the potential benefits are worth it,” Naito promised. “I’m pretty sure Singh is going to reward us with regular shuttle service. That puts us on a par with Australia, Tonga, and Japan. That’s an exclusive club to join with economic benefits.”

“Good, because I don’t think the North Americans are going to reward us at all for facilitating this. I’ll be happy if they don’t try to recover their weapon by military action and then try to pretend that we never had possession of it.”

“Where are you taking it?” Naito wondered. “Are you going to call in the French as Singh suggested? You had your heads so close together with the brass I couldn’t hear.”

“We’re going to make a great show of loading it up on an aircraft and taking it to the French Frigate Shoals,” Tanaka said. “Where it is really going, you have no need to know. The suggestion we share the device with the French is an excellent suggestion, but I have no idea if he cleared it with them first. It’s just the sort of thing this amateur might blurt out as an ad hoc thing without worrying about it failing if he didn’t arrange it behind the scenes. In any case, the French can damn well open an embassy or a consulate here if they expect us to share such advanced technology with them. Hawaii has no use for such space weapons and no ships to carry them. I’m perfectly willing to let it sit unopened until it’s obsolete if they aren’t willing to acknowledge our legitimacy that much.”

“That seems a small price,” Naito agreed. “I think they will readily agree.”

Tanaka gave him a sharp look. “Don’t try to help me on the sly. I’ll handle the French.”

“I wouldn’t think of it,” Naito said, showing his palms in surrender. He was already thinking about who might be a conduit to the French but dropped that thought reluctantly. Tanaka could probably arrange it without him. If not, then none of the stink would attach to him. “I’m going home with my neighbor to celebrate privately and leave it all to you now.”

Tanaka nodded a goodbye without scolding him any further. Naito took his leave before he issued any more restrictive orders. Diana was visible waiting for him by the exit, one of only a handful of people who hadn’t vacated the hangar. There were armed soldiers around the weapon already. Naito figured they would bring in some sort of a lift as soon as the place was empty and they had some privacy. He didn’t think it was a rational fear, but he’d just as soon be several kilometers away when they started handling it.

* * *

“It bears repeating, I do like the new car you picked,” Diana said from the depths of her soft comfortable seat. The rich odor of leather upholstery predominated in the new car smell. “I’m not interested in displaying status and I’m certainly not a motorhead. Ralph was economical and didn’t draw unwanted attention. Nobody ever bothered to break into him when we were in the city overnight. One look at him and most thieves would conclude anybody who couldn’t afford better probably wasn’t hauling anything worth stealing. But I was getting tired of getting jolted by every pothole and bump. By the time we got home, I felt like somebody had beaten my backside with a broom handle. This is pure luxury.”

“Unfortunately, the pothole situation isn’t going to get better any time soon,” Nick Naito said. “The cost of importing paving materials is outrageous and the government has other things to spend money on than asphalt. I can’t see it getting better soon and have no solution to the problem. Even grading dirt roads is expensive because the machinery to do that burns a lot of expensive imported fuel.”

“Then I’d say it’s time to rethink how you make the roads,” Diana told him.

“Concrete takes a lot of energy to make too,” Nick objected.

“I’m saying think way outside the box. I’m no civil engineer but I know people have made roads out of rocks and bricks. They’ve made plank roads where the wood was dirt cheap. You might even ask our Spacer friends how they make roads on the Moon. I don’t know what they do but I’m sure it isn’t anything like asphalt.”

“I’ll talk to some friends,” Nick promised. “It would make me a bit of a hero to come up with a workable solution. It’s always near the top of the list for things making the public unhappy. I don’t miss being pounded to death riding home either.”

“I’m surprised you don’t have a government car by now,” Diana said. “That’s not a veiled hint I don’t want you borrowing the car anymore. You hardly ever use it. But once the revolution is over, officials usually want some perks as the spoils of winning.”

“There was a very strong egalitarian element in the revolution. Some of them confused egalitarian with socialist sufficiently to worry me who would prevail,” Nick admitted. “It’s strong enough that I’d be loudly condemned if I expected a car to be provided. It would even be used against me if I spent my own money to have a nice car. Even with no import tariffs, there haven’t been many cars imported since we won. Certainly, less than have been taken off the road for being unrepairable or wrecked. I understand some of the vehicles in scrapping yards were reevaluated and repaired instead of being recycled because of the scarcity.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Diana said. “You’re welcome to borrow Fancy Dan any time.”

“You’ve named it already?”

“Just now. He isn’t plain and utilitarian like Floyd. He’s very much like my first husband Danny. I married him for all the wrong superficial reasons but it was fun while it lasted.”

“What happened with him?” Nick asked.

“Dan was a trouble magnet from the start. Women would just throw themselves at him at parties. Indeed, he was a one-man party. It was inevitable somebody would manage to steal him. When we stay in the city overnight, we’re going to have to secure Dan much better than Floyd or the same thing will happen,” Diana warned.

“Seduced by some homewrecker with a jimmy tool and a cracker pad?” Nick quipped.

“Yes, and if this Fancy Dan is stolen away, it will be with no prospects of any alimony,” Diana told him.

* * *

“You survived the Slum Ball again,” April said.

“I’ve had warmer greetings,” Jeff said. “I missed you too. I thought you supported negotiating with them?”

“I had to. Heather started issuing commands and cut off any discussion. Then there was the fact I didn’t have any other action to offer except utterly destroying North America. Since Heather assigned planning that to me as an alternative, I can’t complain.”

Jeff reviewed his memory of events and could see that take on it. He couldn’t remember them seriously arguing with Heather after she went into sovereign mode. As April said, it wasn’t like either of them had any brilliant alternatives.

“We’ll see if they try to repudiate it,” Jeff said. “You may still have to do that. Neither of us saw that as a better outcome.” It was just a statement of fact.

“Gunny asked me a question you never really addressed,” April asked. “Why did you put a shortie version of Heather’s cannon in the Chariot instead of using a gravity lance? You aren’t going to leave it in there are you? It takes up most of the room in the hold and a great deal of the lift capacity too.”

“It was a bit of an experiment,” Jeff said. “A temporary installation of a gravity lance would have been just as difficult as the cannon. I’m very concerned we aren’t getting the needed material from my mother as fast as I’d like. We’re going to have to choose between conflicting uses. I’d rather not put a lance in any sort of lander since they are at greater risk of capture. If we have three quantum fluid devices in a ship instead of one or two that increases the risk that a self-destruct won’t work, and the lance is easier to replace with a known mature system than the others. “I also expected to release video of disabling the Constitution and would rather not show the Earthies any detail of using a lance to do so.

“I do regret doing it on the cheap. I just copied Heather’s Bofors. I’ve researched and found a much lighter more versatile 30mm auto-cannon called a RARDEN gun that will serve better. It has less recoil, easier ejection to manage, and can be pintle mounted on other sorts of vehicles. We could use it on a ground car or air car exploring other planets.

“Looking even further ahead, we don’t have a deep theoretical understanding of how the lance works . We may find others among the stars who have a better understanding of that.”

“So? Why would that matter if they do?” April asked.

“What if they understand it well enough to counter or block it?” Jeff asked. “An old reliable system like an autocannon can be a good backup.”

April looked surprised. “You think further ahead than me,” she admitted.

“Thank you. That’s sweet of you to say. Let’s say we think from different perspectives.”

* * *

“They just fired Quincy Love and arrested him,” Dakota read off the news screen.

“Of course they did. Did you really expect anything else?” Heather asked. “He was guilty of doing exactly what they asked him to do. It was a clear case of malicious compliance.” She didn’t even bother to look up from her work or ask to have Dakota forward the news article.

“I think they’re really serious,” Dakota said. “They fired his supervisor too and charged him under some law I don’t understand about dealing with a foreign power.”

Heather finally deigned to look up. “What they do with Mr. Love or his boss is their internal affair. I had no expectation they would treat him well. What matters is - did they explicitly reject the treaty ?”

“Not yet. That’s the direction things seem to be headed,” Dakota predicted. “What else can they do but repudiate it?”

Heather was back looking at her screen. “I don’t know, but I’m sure we’ll find out.”

* * *

“These terms are unacceptable,” the Secretary of Defense declared. “State here agrees with me too. If we tried to negotiate better terms by implication that validates the treaty as it stands. These aren’t reasonable people. We have no expectation we’d get significant concessions and then we’ve painted ourselves in a corner by dignifying this travesty.”

“What do you propose to do ?” Dawson, the head of the Space Forces asked. He’d just been grilled by the National Security Council on what his service could do to respond to the Spacers. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs offered no support for him and looked hostile. He felt he was going to be thrown under the bus for giving an honest assessment.

“Ignore it. Love’s arrest says loudly enough that his signature doesn’t mean anything.”

“You can ignore it all you like. But if you launch another starship, they’ll intercept it the same as the Constitution . At this point, even if you announced it was unarmed, I doubt the rest of the world will believe you. Certainly, the Homies won’t. They’d still stop it and demand to board and verify it is unarmed. Are you prepared to suffer that indignity?”

“Of course not,” the SecDef said. “It will be some time however before we can build another ship. Very little of this one is salvageable. We have some time now while we build it. We have a video they very thoughtfully provided of their weapons and tactics. Our next ship can not only be armed but prepared for exactly how they’ll attack.”

Dawson doubted that. It sounded like a classic example of preparing to fight the last war but there was no point in arguing with the Secretary. He always imagined there was an easy solution that everyone else in the room was too stupid to see.

“It isn’t just the ability to intercept one ship,” the Spaceman said. “They have an overwhelming ability to hurt us on the ground. Demonstrating we are in a continued state of war and the treaty is void invites them to use that as a response even if we do destroy the intercepting ship. They have thousands of stealthed kinetic weapons in orbit and a steady production of them that increases their numbers monthly. Besides those, they have an undetermined number of smaller weapons we consider tactical in yield, penetration aids, and truly huge weapons in the fractional gigaton range they seem to avoid using. It scares me that we have no firm numbers about how many of those they possess. We captured one of those and the diabolical skill with which it was booby-trapped caused it to blow up in our face. All that is hanging over our heads even if our ship escapes.”

“Then you obviously have something there you can act on to improve our position during this pause ,” the SecState said. “Find a way to resolve this intolerable situation. If you quietly remove those hidden assets but don’t attack their manned vessels or habitat then their hands are tied to stop you. Any aggressive response they make to removing these unmanned assets will do what we want – give us an excuse to invalidate the treaty – and we can blame them for it.”

“How can I do that and not make it obvious to the world what is happening?”

“We don’t care at all what it looks like,” the SecState said. “What matters is what we say is happening. Who is going to stay our hand to help the Homies? I suggest if you are asked what is happening, say we are expanding our cleaning of orbital debris.”

Dawson looked at Dewar and swallowed his next set of objections. The President had on his hard face and was nodding his agreement with the agency heads before Dawson could speak. It was still early in his administration and he seemed intent on cementing his reputation as a hard guy. He knew it wasn’t going to work that easily but there was no arguing with a direct order, and today didn’t seem a propitious time to ask for a written directive.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 2

The Space Force remote operator, Lieutenant Yardley, arrived for his new shift unprepared to see the outgoing tech looking stressed and upset. There was a thick stack of flimsies on his clipboard and a screen full of jobs when usually there were only five or six. Nobody ever got excited if he didn’t get to all of them in a shift.

“What’s this? Did they suddenly change the priority assessment and decide to go after every paint chip and foil shred?” So far, the smallest thing he’d been assigned to clear was a tiny electrical connector with a bit of wire attached. If it hadn’t been a natural antenna, it would have been too small to track. Even so, it only got their attention because it was in a particularly bad orbit.

“All our old jobs were canceled. They are buying time on the commercial services to pursue the list of know trash we were doing. We’re switched to using all three tugs to deal with the big unknowns and dark objects on an emergency basis.”

“I…” Yardley started to say.

“Best not to say anything,” his peer warned him and raised a forestalling finger. They both knew how badly this was going to fail. There were reasons they left these sorts of satellites alone. The people over them knew that just as well as they did, so there was no advantage to being the one to say it. The stupid must be coming down from on high well above their immediate superiors.

He nodded. That was true. He would be doing something else in a week anyway, because if he started clearing dark and stealthed satellites, his tugs wouldn’t last very long at all.

“Everything is in order of priority. I’ve cleared twelve objects, ten of which were in a cluster so that’s not as many as it sounds. I gave them a minimum fuel push because we’re going to do so many and we were already at half fuel and expecting a top-off in about two months. They’ll take three or four days to catch enough air to de-orbit, but we’re doing so many nobody could rescue them all if they tried.”

“Thank you for the brief. I have the vehicle,” he said formally.

* * *

“Our ten-piece group number 47 had each rod ping us in turn because they were slowed by an external force. The subsequent ping shows them out of position enough to de-orbit in a couple of days,” Jeff was informed by one of his rod makers.

“Isn’t that cute? Did they grab and burn each of them one by one?” Jeff asked.

It took a minute to look at the telemetry. “Yeah, good guess. That had to be exactly what happened. The delays between them are about right for that.”

“Time for a software update to our other groups,” Jeff said. “Thanks for the heads up.”

* * *

“I cleared three objects from your list,” Yardley told the next shift operator. “One of them had a French roundel on it and I kicked the decision on that upstairs. They said if it’s on the list it goes.” He shrugged rather than say anything dangerous to his career. “I did locate another line of ten rods that is next on our list but our vehicle is in transit to them. You should be able to start on them in about a half-hour.”

“My vehicle,” Lieutenant Newton said. “Thanks, I have enough time to get my coffee.”

The end rod was on camera and Newton eased up to it. It was hard to see until quite close. It had a fuzzy coating that absorbed both light and radio waves down to millimeter wavelengths. The communications package and retro rockets were a bulb on the end that would be handy to grab. It was intended to burn off quickly when the rod deorbited, leaving three vanes hanging in the airstream to steer, the mechanism to move them, and positioning sensors that were sheltered in the top end of the rod. The heat shield at the other end was completely passive.

The near rod filled most of the camera view as he closed the claws around the end bulb. He didn’t see the next eight rods in line fire a short burst and drop away. Neither had the claws closed fully over the rod end before the last rod down line reversed its attitude and fired its rocket full thrust. It was still firing when he showed a good lock on the rod filling his camera view. The rocket was only intended to change the rod’s velocity enough to de-orbit it. But the rod was half a ton of cheap unrefined asteroid iron. He was just reaching to activate his thrusters when the rod impacted his tug at a leisurely sixty kph. That was entirely enough velocity to smash its thrusters, rip the locked claws off, and destroy the radio link given the momentum of the long metal rod.

“Well, crap, contact lost. Initiating another channel and reboot,” he said out loud for the record. Nothing he did restored contact or control again. It would look really bad on his record to lose a vehicle and effectively end his career at his present rank.

The rods that had braked out of orbit followed instructions to extend one steering pad and lock it. When they hit the atmosphere, they tumbled and hit the ground over a wide area of Kansas. None of them were even found until the next spring a farmer found one plowing.

The operator of one of the other tugs was assigned a single unknown object about the size of a four-liter bucket with much better sensors and telemetry than a rod. That was appropriate for a device that carried an explosive equivalent to a ten-kiloton tactical nuke. It reported an object closing with it and scanned it by lidar. It had no way to image the tug in detail but the shape profile and behavior were consistent with a trash cleaning tug. While not as cheap as a rod, it was a good trade for a debris cleaning tug. Jeff got an alert on his pad about what was happening. The device would self-destruct to prevent its capture. He’d learned from that being done before, and taken measures to avoid it with even these lesser assets. He could have told it to dial the yield down and blow up before the tug was close, but he chose not to.

* * *

The third Space Force tug operator found a group of rods on his list and was maneuvering to match orbits with them, but as he eased up on them there was another vehicle in the trailing position blocking his approach.

“I have a guardian device blocking approach to this group of Homie rods,” the remote pilot entered in his log. “I’ll have to remove it first.” He was wrong on two counts. The rods belonged to Pakistan and the trailing object wasn’t there to guard them. It was Indian and there to neutralize them if they started to brake but was leaving them in place so they would be thought effective assets until Pakistan tried to use them.

“That’s a USNA Space Force tug. They paint their service logo right on it. What is that crazy American doing? This isn’t any concern of his,” the Indian controller yelled at his monitor when his machine alerted him.

The fellow at the next workstation didn’t have any activity. He leaned over to look.

“Perhaps it’s simply an error,” he cautioned.

“It certainly is, and I’m about to show him why,” he said, typing in commands.

That wasn’t what the other man meant, but there was no stopping him and he didn’t have the rank to do so anyway.

The Indian satellite blasted the approaching tug with a cloud of BBs designed to sublimate and break up once exposed to sunlight. Then it engaged a tiny ion thruster to remove the velocity gained from the recoil.

“He killed my tug,” wailed the Space Force controller. “But I have a match on the control traffic to a geostationary sat.” He forwarded that to his Command Center.

“Why would the Homies have a command-and-control device in geostationary orbit?” the Combat Director asked. “Do you have a list of what is parked in that arc?”

“I don’t care who the registry says owns it,” his superior said. “That can be as spoofed like anything else. The order was routed through that bird. We’ll kill it.”

“There have been three satellite kills of the same sort that destroyed our satellite,” The French analyst informed his superior. “We are watching ground station and relay activity and are certain it is the North Americans. The traffic is encrypted of course, but the time signatures for transmissions all line up with events.”

“I’m surprised they have that many killer satellites. The Homies wiped out their inventory so badly they have had a struggle to rebuild.”

“They were presented to the world as debris-clearing tugs, not killers. One survived and they launched two more as a priority. There was a lot of debris to clear. The Homies have avoided removing non-military satellites engaged in crop surveillance, weather forecasting, eruption prediction, and the like, things of scientific and safety value.”

“In other words, they lied about their intended function until they needed them to act in their military role. Well, that won’t go unanswered by the others they are attacking, and neither will it go unanswered by us. Do they have any other trash clearing robots?”

“Only some operated by commercial firms. The three Space Force satellites were quickly destroyed. They seem to have over-estimated their survivability.”

“If their Space Force tugs were dual-purpose one must assume the commercial versions will be used the same way. We will destroy them and any satellites you are certain were used to send the commands.”

“One of them was a commercial comsat,” the French analyst said.

His boss spread his hands in mock sorrow. “Dual-use. Too bad. I’m just sorry we can’t hit the ground station. That’s outside my authority.” He started issuing orders.

* * *

Jon didn’t call Jeff that often, but he answered the com with a clean conscience. He imagined Jon had news to impart, not that he was seeking information from him.

“Still nothing on the news or any ultimatums from the North Americans?” Jeff asked.

“No, I believe they are trying to provoke a reaction from us. They wish just cause to say the treaty was a falsehood from our side,” Jon said. “I don’t wish to engage them yet with Militia assets because their use is all openly documented to a large number of people. I don’t believe they can find enough of our assets to degrade them very much. It would appear that ability is being reduced already.” Jon stopped and waited like he expected Jeff to volunteer something. When the pause grew awkward, he asked. “Has anything been - happening - with your private units?”

“Don’t concern yourself with that. I can respond to them adequately,” Jeff assured him. “They can’t significantly degrade my systems either.

“Everybody will know you killed all three of their tugs anyway,” Jon insisted.

Jeff almost answered him in detail to explain it was automated systems that took out two and that he had no idea yet who destroyed the third. His ladies were teaching him subtlety, however, and he hesitated long enough to think before answering.

“They can think what they want, but that simply isn’t true,” Jeff said.

Jon was shocked. He’d assumed it was Jeff. He didn’t even bother to run it for veracity. Jeff had a long history of telling him the truth no matter how unwelcome the message.

Jeff’s pad buzzed and he took the priority message from his intelligence head, Chen.

“Jeffery, we are seeing French orbital assets engaging North American satellites, both military and commercial. Somebody took out a French satellite first but I can’t swear it was the Americans. There must have been an Indian object hit too. They seem to have entered use-them-or-lose-them mode, and the Paks have decided they better do the same thing.

“Then some idiot hit British and Australian-owned satellites and the Australians took out the command routing with a ground launch, which brought the Germans in. The Japanese just vaporized several geostationary satellites. Not theirs, but positioned to watch them, with a beam weapon. There were half a dozen other explosions in orbit I can’t identify. One may be Russian but they are saying nothing. The Pakistanis are the only ones yelling publicly and that news isn’t being allowed through to the public in North America or Europe.

“It’s a cascading mess a half-hour in, and I am attaching a Venn diagram of known interactions. I’ll keep it updated. Copied to your partners.”

Jeff copied Chen’s message off the pad to Jon who read it slowly.

“Chen doesn’t accuse you of taking out the North Americans,” Jon noticed. “I’ll accept I was in error.” He frowned and thought about it. “If that changes, don’t tell me. If they want to conduct a silent undeclared little space war, plausible deniability would seem to have value for all the players.”

Jeff nodded in agreement, and Jon disconnected since he’d initiated the call. Jeff sat and carefully considered Jon’s advice. Deniability had merit in several different ways. Jeff got much more from Jon’s instructions than he’d intended.

* * *

Eileen and Vic were in bed and sound asleep when the satellite phone buzzed. That was as frightening as a long-distance telephone call in the middle of the night for earlier generations. The message from Mr. Mast was text and brief to keep it cheap. It didn’t seem to need a reply.

“Go out and look at the sky.”

“What’s going on?” Eileen demanded.

Vic just showed her the phone screen. She read it but then her face changed.

“Uh-oh. Look at it again,” she urged him.

The message was still there but now it said NO SERVICE in the top bar.

“Let’s go see what this is about,” Vic said, turning on a soft light to get his slippers and robe. By then Alice was standing at their bedroom door with her little rifle, having heard their voices. There was no sound from outside or evidence of an intruder so she had questions painted on her face.

“Mr. Mast says go out and look at the sky,” Vic said. So, they did.

“Wow. It’s like the fireworks shows when I was a little kid,” Alice said.

That made Vic smile since she was still very much a kid to him. Little was getting harder to apply. She was right. The sky just silently burned with a sleet of tiny man-made meteors and occasional bright flashes.

The phone in his robe pocket buzzed briefly against his hip. He pulled it out thinking there might be a new message. Instead, it just showed restored service.

“It’s working again. I guess it was just a hole in the coverage,” Vic said.

“I’m surprised there is anything but holes,” Eileen said, jerking her head and eyes up to indicate the distant violence raging above them.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point there,” Vic admitted.

* * *

It really irritated Jeff that the news people didn’t interrogate him when he’d have welcomed it. Any other time when he wanted to be left alone, they’d be lighting up his com console and beating on the door. It just wouldn’t do to issue press releases when there was a code of silence being followed. Even the Pakistanis had stopped their public threats and accusations. Part of that was they seemed to have expended all their orbital assets so there was nothing new to talk about. The same was true for a dozen second-tier nations. Some fool took aim at the Brazilians or a deorbited asset just happened to be aimed at their capital, and the response they could mount shocked everyone. Nobody had expected them to go nuclear. Indeed, the fact they had very capable nuke-tipped ballistic interceptors was a revelation. The intercept was technically over their territory but the EMP disrupted some of their neighbors' electrical services and older devices. They all decided it might be safer not to complain about the unintended damage.

When a newsie finally called Jeff, it was a South African reporter. That was a first.

“Mr. Singh, I am Charles Jabu, investigative reporter, inquiring for the Capetown station of our national network. The current contest in the heavens is visible even as far south as our latitude. To our frustration and disbelief, nobody professes to know anything about it among the principal space nations. Would you make a statement about how the Spacers are involved?”

“I will make a single statement on the condition you only quote it in its entirety and make it available to the wire services,” Jeff said. “I will hold you personally responsible if you breach faith on that promise.”

Jabu looked at him like he was expecting more, and then thought about it.

“It’s within my power to do that, so I will guarantee it.”

“Very well, this is my statement: Spacers are not a homogenous group. Like everyone else not blind, I’m very aware there is some sort of ongoing conflict in orbit. I’m assured none of the Home militia or My Lady the Sovereign of Central have involved themselves. My private systems are only configured to defend themselves autonomously, and I haven’t directed any of them to take any aggressive action against other systems or Earth targets. Some elements of my system were attacked and made to deorbit, but they were unguided and not directed to any target. The chances they did any harm at random are very slight and outside my intent or control.”

“That’s it? Don’t you wish to relate this to your recent treaty negotiation with North America? Do you expect us to believe this?” Jabu demanded.

“That was my statement to the public. You don’t need to feel obligated to quote this, but I’ll tell you personally that our treaty with North America is not under any continuing negotiation. It’s signed and concluded. They have not asked to modify it, and I have no evidence to conclude this orbital chaos has anything to do with it. My sources inform me this involves several nations, none of which have any interest in our recent treaty. Do you have any evidence they are related? Tell me if you do, please. As for the other, I simply don’t care who believes me. It seems the commonest reaction on your globe is to disbelieve anything I say. I can’t really blame people for thinking that since truth is such a precious commodity everyone seems to be hoarding it. Good day to you, sir,” Jeff said and disconnected.

* * *

The orbital conflict tapered off as assets were depleted. There were fewer targets and those nations who still retained the ability to act were being pickier about expending what remained of their systems. Everyone was holding their breath waiting to see if any of the factions in China would engage them. They had no idea who controlled the strategic weapons that remained usable among the divided territories. China had so many assets some of them must be functional and in control of the regional powers.

There was silence in the great powers, similar silence in Brazil and Japan despite their newly revealed abilities, and endless speculation with few facts among the lesser nations. Jabu kept his bargain and published Jeff’s full statement. It was disbelieved without serious consideration, just as he expected. Jeff didn’t care and was satisfied to have it on record as asked, not volunteered.

* * *

“Chen, what weak points have North America revealed by their attempts to degrade our systems?” Jeff asked.

“What exactly are you asking about? Doctrines, tactics, or command systems?” Chen asked. “We have lots of command intercepts and records of movements.”

“Nothing so abstract. I’m looking for hard targeting opportunities to send a message.”

Chen hesitated so long that Jeff thought he might not answer.

“I gave April a hard time about this. I wish I hadn’t now. How subtle do you want to be?”

“If they want to strike at us and never acknowledge what they are doing it leaves us in a difficult position,” Jeff explained. “They control all the media outlets. The ones that matter that is, the ones that have access to their citizens. Being truthful and forthright doesn’t work as long as we are the only ones who value it. I’d like to do a demo for them. I’d like to hurt them and then refuse to acknowledge it just like they do. Perhaps they will reevaluate how things would work if we play by the same lack of rules. Our treaty may look better if they start thinking about where that would lead. If you don’t approve of this tactic as dishonest, I understand. I’m not going to outright lie, I’m just going to refuse to confess. I’d like it to hurt but it should be subtle enough the other Earthies aren’t even sure it happened if North America tries to go public and cry victim.”

“That should be easy,” Chen said. “If there isn’t a crater left that you can see from orbit nobody will think it has the signature of one of your actions.”

“Yes,” Jeff agreed, refusing to take offense. “At least that subtle and limited in scope. No large fusion weapons. Ideally, it should be related to this particular campaign of theirs closely enough to ensure they get the message.”

“There is a critical Earth station in Utah that has never been acknowledged as part of the Space Force inventory,” Chen said. “It is physically small, but the volume of electronic traffic and where they are aiming it says it is not the scientific and meteorology station the signage says it is. It has fences and security that are just a little too good and there isn’t a heavy civilian presence at risk around it. Is that enough?”

“That's perfect. There haven’t been any Earth strikes on North America have there?”

“There was that unguided spray of your rods that fell across Kansas,” Chen said. “They were tumbling and they didn’t even bother to complain about them because there was no damage to point to. The Indians and Pakistanis traded some ground strikes but they stopped making public statements. I suspect they weren’t very effective. Who would want to brag on a strike that didn’t do significant damage?”

“One hopes now that this is all winding down that it catches them by surprise and the message isn’t lost in the general chaos. I’ll hit them at night when staffing levels tend to be minimized and the public being in bed are less likely to witness it. Send me that location, would you please?” Jeff said. “Oh, and don’t send the usual copy on that to my partners. I intend to inform them later.”

That got a raised eyebrow but no objection.

“It will be in your inbox by the time you look,” Chen promised. “The people we want to know will be very aware. That the majority of personnel for the facility will be home safe is good. Make it a very localized strike so there isn’t extensive damage at a distance people commute to work. They will be aware of what happened and need to be transferred to other assignments. They will have to start building a replacement station too. Word will get around inside the organization and destroy the morale of people who matter much more than the general public.”

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 3

The uplink station in Utah didn’t have search radar or ballistic defenses. It looked no more important than a hundred other telecom relay stations. Modern antennas meant it wasn’t as obvious as older stations with huge dish antennas. It depended on obscurity for its security. Fifty rods targeted on it from the west had to get through continental defenses that were concentrated too far to the northwest, protecting the seat of government. Even those were legacy systems designed to stop larger reentry sleds carrying strategic weapons. At extreme range, a swarm of very expensive interceptors only managed to hit seven rods sufficiently to damage their steering vanes and make them tumble off target. If citizens saw the interceptors rise in the night, they would be told it was a training exercise, if told anything at all. People were conditioned not to ask questions now. It was never of any personal benefit to have too many questions.

The rods weren’t low enough to drop a shock wave on the ground below until over a very sparsely inhabited region. Their guidance was so good that only three struck outside the perimeter fence. The facility was effectively gone. There was still an approach road leading to a field with pockmarks, scattered chunks of concrete, and random scraps of metal and plastic. Jeff could have stopped there but had no idea if the action was sufficient to send the desired message.

The end strike came in from the north along a route where there were no national ballistic defenses. A calcium bomb spread a radar blinding cloud low over the site to blind close in radar, laser, and point defenses. They didn’t exist but Jeff couldn’t be sure of that. Two buses followed it closely only a half kilometer apart. The first was a ground penetrator in case there were hardened assets below grade. That went fifty meters into the ground and detonated.

The following weapon detonated close enough to simultaneously, fifty meters above the ground. They were very low-yield weapons, a kiloton each. They just stirred a debris field to make sure Jeff’s message wasn’t too muted and made a very small shallow crater not much bigger than a conventional artillery strike.

It wasn’t a closed facility with housing. That wouldn’t have fit its cover story. Fifteen kilometers to the west a small crossroads village had doubled in size when the station was built and manned. Everyone in town was aware that what happened there was none of their business. Word was quietly spread that rewards were available for reporting any strangers in town asking questions about the facility. It helped that wearing duty uniforms in town was discouraged. Delivery drivers and people passing through might notice. A dozen people serving at the facility brought outside money into the community. In a permanently slow economy, it circulated through enough hands to be a real boost. Once construction was done there was no parade of heavy trucks on the through road and the annual groundwater reports didn’t show any new pollution. They were good neighbors.

The facility commander had a modest but thoroughly modern ranch-style home three streets removed from the picturesque block-long ‘downtown’ of five historic brick buildings, a gas station, and a halo of modern businesses. That put him on the outskirts of town. He was awakened in the middle of the night by a rumbling like a freight train was passing through his living room. It was intense enough to discourage him from trying to stand up. Being from California, he thought it was an earthquake. When there was an intense orange flash through the windows and the lights on his electronic devices went out, he still just thought it was an earthquake. He’d seen a similar flash during an earthquake when a transformer outside his childhood home exploded.

The next flash removed all doubt that something else was at play here. Earthquakes might bring the electric grid down, and he’d heard they produced electric sprites playing across the hills. This last white flash was so intense that the square after-image of his window was etched on his vision when he looked away. That was no earthquake.

He didn’t have time to ponder that long before the ground wave of the dual detonation reached his home and bounced him in his bed. The sound of brickwork cracking and joints popping in the house was shorter but just as intense as the previous rumble.

The airwave and the sound of his living room window shattering on the other side of the house followed so closely it just seemed like an extension of the ground wave. It seemed prudent to just stay flat in bed for a moment to see if anything else was coming. The sudden silence was an overwhelming contrast until there was the distant wail of a siren for the volunteer fire department. He reluctantly got up and searched the nightstand by feel for his cell phone. He found it face down on the floor by kicking it and retrieved it. The phone was fine and showing the date and time correctly, but it had no service even when rebooted because the local cell service was down. It was going to be a long difficult day.

The strike didn’t go unnoticed elsewhere.

* * *

“Come look. It’s doing it again,” Eileen said softly, leaning over and peering out the window.

“Let’s go outside,” Victor suggested. He put on his slippers and grabbed a pistol out of habit and caution. They hadn’t had any trouble at all. Late at night, it was cool in Northern California but not cold. A jacket might be needed to sit for hours but not to see the lights in the sky. This was the third night the conflict between the Spacers and North America was visible. The first night was spectacular but it seemed to be winding down now.

None of this conflict seemed aimed at their area which was just fine with them. All of Southern California still suffered from the bombardment of Vandenberg a couple of years ago. The delicate balance of services and legacy infrastructure that made the lower part of the state habitable had collapsed in a cascade from the point of that strike within three days. The rural northern part of the state still didn’t have electric power and existed in a political power vacuum but was habitable. If you had the skills and means it was possible to live much like people in the area had back at the start of the twentieth century.

The wrap-around porch shielded the sky but they went to the corner where they could see the sky both to the north and east. Their eyes were already adjusted to the dark since they’d been in bed. Vic examined the open areas, the tree line, and listened carefully before he allowed himself to look at the sky. There was no traffic noise or other sounds of civilization to break the silence and no sky glow of electric lights to spoil the view.

A man-made meteor passed by to the north shedding fragments of various colors as it disintegrated. It was too high and far away to hear anything. It petered out, consumed before it got anywhere near the ground. Vic silently hoped it wasn’t a manned object. There were fine single lines of debris reentering, very much like a natural meteor shower, but they suspected none of it was natural. Suddenly there was a bright spark high overhead, then another until there had been a regular procession off them leading off to the east. After a pause, there was a gentle orange glow on the eastern horizon that faded away. A few minutes later there was a brief white flash reflected off some clouds and then nothing more. That seemed to be it for this round.

“Do you want to look at the news on the satellite phone and see if anybody knows what is going on?” Eileen asked Vic.

“Not tonight. It always takes them some time to decide what to say, or to sort out what others are saying. Better to wait until tomorrow when the foreign reports will be more reliable. Let’s just go back to bed for now,” Vic said.

“You’re right,” Eileen said but leaned out and took one last look. Nothing was happening so she followed Vic back inside.

* * *

“Why, Mr. Jabu, how pleasant to talk to you again,” Jeff said.

“Very few people are so thrilled to speak with me,” Jabu said suspiciously.

“Not at all,” Jeff insisted just exuding good humor. “Perhaps you think I’m sitting in a storm of activity. Com calls piled up in a queue waiting for me to answer, a long list of text messages crying out for attention. Truth is, I haven’t had another reporter call me since last I talked to you. Perhaps I’m not as well connected as you think.”

“I feel safe to speak with you because I can’t imagine you’d ever have any reason to bombard South Africa. I know for a fact our government has never made threatening remarks about Home or imposed sanctions against your trade. If the idiots ever do, I’ll stay well away from all the major cities, dams, and spaceports.”

“I’m easier than that even,” Jeff said. “There are several countries who won’t trade with us, have imposed crippling tariffs, and prohibited travel both ways. None of us act against them unless they actually try to harm us.”

“Like North America?” Jabu asked.

“We do have had an unfortunate history of conflict with North America,” Jeff allowed. “I suppose that is common with colonies who split off from the founding country. I believe you know something about that?”

“Indeed, that’s the way of the world,” Jabu agreed.

“But now we have this new treaty. I have hopes it will hold,” Jeff said. “We’ve had a few false steps in the past, but I hope the current promisers may be of better moral character.”

“I’m hearing whispers it may already be breached,” Jabu insisted.

“Mere gossip,” Jeff insisted, waving it away. “Have I been screaming that we are betrayed again and providing evidence of it? Haven’t we always been forthright in calling them on any deviation from the letter of our agreements? Yet you see I’m not complaining.”

“We have reports from Texas that they detected a nuclear detonation, a small one, but nuclear, well north of them in Utah. The usual seismic stations in North America seem to have had a sudden problem with connectivity and when they came back online an entire four-hour block of data went missing.”

“Amazing,” Jeff said. “I know a lot of the infrastructure in America is dated, but I have to say I have very limited interest in earthquakes. I suppose that data is a real loss to some. As for the small nuclear detonation, the only nuclear weapons I possess are in the two-hundred to three-hundred-megaton range. That’s hardly small.”

“It’s suspicious as hell,” Jabu growled. “Let me ask plainly. Do you wish to modify your recent statement to me about Home’s role in the very visible heavenly conflict or its bearing on your treaty with North America?”

“Do quote this in its entirety if you wish to append it to your previous report. I have no news I wish to share about the reported conflict, conflicts I should say really, because I read the news too, and see many countries were implicated. I consider the treaty with North America to be in force until they formally disavow it, and I can assure you as a signatory to it that I am prepared to honor it just as well as they do . That’s all I want to say.”

“Thank you, Mr. Singh.”

“Not at all. I’m honored to be considered a worthy source by the media.”

* * *

Jabu must have been streaming his report out live. Jeff didn’t even have time to get a fresh coffee before his screen signaled a call of mid-list importance from his address book. It was crusty Old Man Larkin, who despite looking middle-aged now from the best life extension therapy, always came across like a peeved old curmudgeon. If you closed your eyes, it was hard to imagine him looking young again. To make him wait would just make it worse so Jeff took the call.

“I’ve got you search-listed to pop up by name for Earth news,” Larkin said. “What the hell kind of an interview was that you just did, boy? You sounded like some kind of smarmy Earth politician babbling double talk as smooth as goose shit. Usually, you talk in precise bullet points and I can make some sense of it. The sum of everything I heard you say to that fellow was zero .”

Jeff did a couple of slow blinks like he was struggling to process that.

“I’m upended. I resemble that remake and won’t try to impart you,” Jeff said. “Don’t try to deprattle me augerwise.”

Larkin’s face went from irritated to concerned. “Are you having a stroke? Do you want me to call medial to come give you an emergency evaluation?”

Jeff reached up and jarred his head flat-handed.

“That won’t be necessary,” he assured Larkin. “I was just stuck in Earth mode for a moment. Did I say something funny?”

Larkin laughed. “Yes, yes you did. I’m not sure they are bright enough to know when they are being parodied, but it was very funny. I didn’t know you had it in you and I’m sorry I was so dense I had to have the joke explained. Carry on,” Larkin said and disconnected.

Jeff would never tell Larkin, but he was hugely complimented he was on his hot news list. He had said one new thing that wasn’t zero-sum. It surprised him that it flew right past Larkin; the old boy was pretty sharp even if he tried to project a down-home country manner. He only hoped the right Earthies were sharp enough to catch the critical point.

* * *

It was a few hours before the head of Space Forces saw the interview. It was way down on his intelligence report list and he might have easily skipped it if Singh’s name hadn’t been on the summary line. It was as if the analysts assembling this saw no relationship between all the reports of their communication station’s destruction and this brief statement. Dawson was every bit as sharp as Jeff hoped and saw the impact of it immediately and his stomach clenched at the import of it.

“I am prepared to honor it just as well as they do.”

That was going to make his job impossible. He’d tried to explain the disparity in their forces and the Spacers. Not in numbers but in quality. The politicians were not capable of believing a reality they didn’t wish to exist or they wouldn’t keep ordering him to taunt and snipe at a superior force. It was hard enough when he could do anything he wanted behind a facade of normality and have it denied, while the other side played with their cards laid open on the table.

If they honored the treaty just as well as North America it was going to be very ugly in short order. Home was days away and well defended. Central might as well be counted a fortress. China laid a nuke directly on them and it was counted as an irritating inconvenience.

North America on the other hand was a vast area at the bottom of a gravity well circled by a parade of weapons systems that could reach it in a few minutes. The administration didn’t seem to understand that things fell down easier and cheaper than they could be propelled into the heavens. If Home felt free to drop a weapon anywhere in the world with North American interests and haughtily say they have no idea what you are talking about after, what was he supposed to do about it? Tit for tat with them didn’t work when they could out-tat him. North America didn’t have the number of worldwide bases they used to keep garrisoned, but they had ships and planes and commercial interests all over the world. His service was the one charged with protecting them from space.

His older brother was retired and unconnected politically. He had no other family to be concerned about. If he was forced to retire in disgrace that wasn’t so bad, but if they decided to punish him for failing to do the impossible life could be hard. They might strip him of his pension and put him at the very bottom of the list for minimum negative tax credits. That was a pretty squalid existence. He considered his chances of taking an executive jet to Florida. Once he turned south, he could fly down the west coast and divert to Cuba. From there he could fly commercial to Texas and defect.

That dream was shattered by a call announcing a car was on the way to take him to a meeting of the Joint Chiefs. He sighed. It was probably a few hours too late to run. He should have been at the port boarding before dawn. Finding a sudden reason fly to Florida instead of attending this meeting would just get him intercepted in mid-air and returned to a far worse reception than reporting as ordered. He’d just have to see how much he could save from a bad situation. He’d have to grovel a bit for sure. For now, he held the Florida plan in reserve, assuming he survived today.

* * *

“You didn’t ask us for input,” April complained, “though I have to admit that was artistic. It sounded like a denial without actually being one.”

“It slipped past Old Man Larkin,” Jeff told them the story. “He seemed to think I was just messing with their minds.”

“Why did you wait to tell us?” Heather asked.

“Its value depended on being plausibly deniable,” Jeff said. “If either of you were contacted, I wanted their software to read honest surprise and denial with no hedging.”

“Do you think they’ll get the message?” Heather asked.

“I’m sure somebody is bright enough to hear exactly what I said instead of what they wanted to hear. Whether they will be someone in a position to do something about it is a different matter. Earth government moves ponderously slow. It may be a few days before we hear anything,” Jeff said.

“And if they don’t?” Heather persisted.

“I’m not sure. It was something Jon said that made me try this. You both know now. Go ahead and advise me. Maybe you’ll give me more ideas.”

“Our crews are going nuts waiting to explore because we may need them available to deal with the Earthies,” Heather said. “Perhaps we should give them something to do if the North Americans don’t move in say – a week from now?”

“You have something in mind,” Jeff said. “Kindly be specific.”

“They can stay close and add some more rock to the Martian station we are building. That’s good practice. If the North Americans stay silent, perhaps we should gift them with some rocks or snowballs.”

“That’s awfully heavy-handed,” Jeff protested. “It would be as destructive as a systematic bombardment, and not as selective or as accurate. But I do like that it doesn’t use up expensive and sometimes irreplaceable equipment. I was hoping to stop short of open war.”

“Don’t target anything that would draw a response,” April suggested. “Rocks are free. Just drop one after another on an undeveloped area in their territory as a demo of what could happen. Continue it as a silent contest, just drop them without any claims or statements. They are a sufficiently clear message.”

“If we get them out-system they’ll have much slower Solar radial motion,” Jeff said. “It will be tricky and time-consuming for our guys to match them to Earth’s motion for an accurate drop. We had to play bumper pool a lot to get them lined up for Mars orbit.”

“Just position them in front of the Earth and let it run into them,” Heather said. “The math will be easier and they won’t have to do a bunch of short-jumps and fine tweak the velocity to hit an exact area. Pick a big enough target so you don’t have to be super precise.”

“Everything is so built up in North America now that’s hard to do. I don’t even want to risk damaging wilderness preserves that have their own special value,” Jeff worried.

“Drop them in the middle of Hudson Bay,” Heather suggested. “It’s so big it would be awfully hard to miss. It shouldn’t even make a very big wave at the few towns along the shore. Start with a few smaller snowballs to serve notice to the locals about what is happening. The politicians may not have a clue but the natives aren’t dumb enough to rush out where they see rocks falling from the sky.”

Jeff called up a map of North America on the screen. “Yeah, I think they can hit that.”

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 4

“Yoooo… Victor!”

“Well, he knows you. Do you know him?” Eileen asked.

“I’m not sure. Maybe,” Vic took his binoculars and looked out the window.

He got a big grin and went to the door to wave the man up to the house.

“Tell me before he gets up here,” Eileen demanded.

“That’s Titus, who lived with me clear back the first time I visited your grandpa’s house. I found him a home with a farmer the other direction from you, clear over in the next county, and their neighbor took the other boy, Adam. I didn’t know who it was at first because his voice was just starting to change then. He looks a lot taller too.”

“That wasn’t just a story you made up?” Eileen asked.

Vic was watching the boy come up the slight rise to the house. He stopped and laid his rifle down and took his pack off with exaggerated care about thirty meters from the house.

Vic looked back at his wife. “Why would I do that?” he asked, confused and a little hurt.

“I thought you made up a big story as an excuse to check me out. You were making a big survey and map of people for trading. Then I never heard anything about that again either.”

“I gave that map to Mr. Mast when he started the fairs. Good riddance, I never wanted to do that anyway. It was just something that needed to be done and nobody seemed to be stepping up to do it. It did give me an in with Mast and I think it paid off. He certainly seemed to appreciate it. Otherwise, I doubt he’d have offered us an alliance and helped us as much as he has. He doesn’t loan out his bike or have just anybody as his house guests.”

“Did I come at a bad time?” Titus asked. The discussion seemed a little too intense to him. He didn’t want to walk in on an argument.

“You can’t come at a bad time T. You’re welcome any time.”

Vic hugged him and Eileen noted he was already as tall, but much thinner than Vic. She wasn’t sure if he’d fill out as much. That might be all his growth. His beard was light too.

Eileen allayed Vic’s concern she was upset with him by hugging Titus too.

“What you doing over this way?” Vic asked.

“I’m working for Sheriff Stewart now and I’m taking some papers and things to Arlo Ritner over at Mr. Mast’s. The Sheriff told me you work with them now.”

“Some papers you’re afraid to bring in the house?” Vic asked, nodding at the distant pack. “They stinky or something?”

“They’re with some caps in foam sleeves, but why take a chance?” Titus asked.

“Good thinking. I appreciate that. Did you get the Sheriff elected over there?”

“No, Mr. Stewart was a deputy and the old Sheriff had a heart attack on the day and didn’t survive. He is trying to get organized similar to what Mr. Mast has done here, and says he will run for office when that can be done. In the meantime, if anybody asks about it, he offers to let them have the job if they are crazy enough to want it. We don’t have a fair yet which is going to make getting everybody to vote a lot more difficult.”

“I hadn’t thought about that. Holding the vote at the fair makes sense. Mast has just never said anything about that,” Vic said. “Do you want to stay tonight and get an early start? It’s too far to reach Mast’s by dark.”

“I can’t, thank you. I’m used to traveling in the dark. There’s a good moon tonight and it’s supposed to stay clear. I’ll be in bed at Mast’s before too late and sleep in tomorrow. I brought you a little something.”

He dug in a fanny pack and produced two boxes of .308 cartridges.

“I knew they’re your caliber. They’re factory loads too, not reloads. Just a little thank you for taking care of me and Adam.”

“Thank you, that's right nice of you,” Vic said taking them. “How is Adam?”

“He loves being a farmer. I could see that wasn’t for me pretty quickly. But Mr. and Mrs. Halle seemed to accept I didn’t want to do farm work and allowed I’d worked hard enough I didn’t owe them anything for boarding me. I kind of hope there aren’t any hard feelings there. They did get a hired man when I left, but of course, he expects to get paid. I just worked for my keep. I probably didn’t earn that the first year. They didn’t adopt me. They never talked about offering that to me at all. If they had, I might have stayed.”

“You content working for Stewart?” Vic asked.

“So far. He won’t make me a deputy until I am older and, as he says, have a little more experience in life. But that’s what I want. He has plenty of work to keep me busy without being a sworn officer.”

“If you can’t stay, can I give you some cornbread for a snack later?” Eileen offered. Do you have anything for the road?”

“I have some good venison salami and hard-boiled eggs rolled in salt. Cornbread is a treat and I’d welcome that, ma’am.”

Vic sort of twitched. “I’m sorry. This is Eileen. We’re married, and I have no manners not to have introduced you right away. We have a girl, Alice, living with us lurking around somewhere. Knowing her, she’s probably out front holding a bead on your back in case you’re some kind of trouble.”

Eileen went off for cornbread.

“A dangerous girl,” Titus said, and smiled.

“You’ve got no idea,” Vic said.

“Only dangerous if you give me a reason to be,” a voice said from the porch. Alice came in the door her little rifle hung in front, pointed down on its harness.

“Alice,” Titus acknowledged and actually gave her a little bow. “I’m just T to my friends.”

“Are you making application for that status?” Alice asked.

“I certainly am,” Titus said, not put off at all.

“You’re on probation then. Vic seems to think you are alright.”

“Thank you.”

Eileen returned with the cornbread in a sour cream tub.

“You won’t miss the container?”

“No, don’t worry about it. They split eventually no matter how careful you are with them. In a few years, they’ll be a Before-The-Day memory like paper towels.”

“Thank you, I’m going to keep moving. I’ll be sure to see you all again if I get a chance.”

They watched as he tucked the container into the pack, and carefully shouldered it again. He headed back to the road without looking back, just a wave over his shoulder.

“You held your breath while he got the pack on,” Eileen said.

“I don’t like that stuff,” Vic said.

Alice looked a question at him.

“Boomies,” Vic explained.

“Their folks died?” Alice asked, which indicated she’d heard the entire conversation.

“One presumes. They were at a summer camp, a fancy expensive one, and their folks lived down by San Francisco, south of the bridge. The boys didn’t like how things were looking after The Day and left the camp before others got the idea and it got too hard to sneak away. They stopped a few places along the road but all those folks had enough problems and told them to keep moving on.”

“Their camp was going to be like me with the Olsens,” Alice predicted.

“That’s what they feared, yeah,” Vic agreed. “They said the camp was turning into a cult.”

Later, Eileen quizzed him a little more. “You don’t ever talk about the boys,” she said trying to understand.

“What’s to say? They were typical young boys, fourteen and sixteen. They weren’t that much trouble and were scared to death from their whole world disappearing so they behaved without much yelling. If they ever fought with each other, they must have gotten that out of their systems on the road before I knew them. They weren’t here that long, and they didn’t especially want to keep talking about it. They just told me the bare outline. I’d be a poor shrink anyway.”

“But you must have talked about something,” Eileen said.

“Why? Did your menfolk sit around talking with each other all the time? We talked when I had to show them how to do things. There was plenty enough of that because they’d never had to do chores or work at anything before staying with me. They had rich parents and an easy life before The Day.”

Eileen thought about that.

“Before The Day, when our family got together my menfolk all went off in the living room and watched football, or basketball or whatever. They’d watch golf or bowling before they’d turn off the TV and talk. The women would all sit in the kitchen if they weren’t cooking or cleaning up, talking. For that matter, they talked while working too.”

“Did they get all chatty after the TV stopped working?” Vic asked.

“No, they sat by the stove and whittled fire starters,” Eileen admitted. “They played cards at first but my dad would get mad and stay that way for days if he lost. It wasn’t long before the cards were put away and nobody suggested playing anymore.”

Vic just nodded. “That’s part of why I found them families who wanted them. It’s not good for men to be living all alone together. If it just was just men raising a boy, he might not learn to talk until he was about ten years old.”

“The Olsens,” Alice said with disgust, “weren’t big on talking either but they sat around making plenty of rude noises.”

* * *

“Radar return on significant reentry body number 14 today. Bolide or cometary fragment. Its trajectory indicated a natural source in solar orbit. The radar return is gone now as it broke up at altitude already.”

The controller touched the bracket on his screen to remove it after his voice note was logged. Nothing exciting happened for a long time. Four hours later into his shift, he got another radar return of a bigger snowball on its ionized plunge into the atmosphere.

“Diffuse return that visibly fragmented on radar. Body 17 for today. Object broke up low enough to expect possible reports of a flash, sonic boom, or seismographic reports.”

He thought about how closely it mimicked the previous object.

“A repetition of a significant object on the same impact zone is of a very low probability. Note to oncoming shifts. This sequence may constitute a probe of our defenses.”

There, that felt safe. At least they’d know he was awake. It was a relief when another didn’t happen before his shift ended.

The next operator read the station notes and sneered. The other operator was an alarmist in his opinion. He’d hit the panic button three times this year, worrying people needlessly. In his opinion, they needed to force the fellow to switch to decaf.

Object 19 for the day was right on the same impact path as the previous two. It wasn’t a snowball and it was big enough their radar painted a return off it just before it hit the atmosphere and left a trail that would reflect radar. The scope said it was twenty to thirty meters across. He hit the alarm without a second thought. Three down the same line was no accident of nature. Once he figured that out another part of the pattern occurred to him. The next one would be bigger.

* * *

Constable Howard stopped for lunch as soon as the restaurant opened at 4 am. Everyone else was having breakfast and he did the same, ordering a breakfast special for his lunch. It wasn’t dark when he went in and almost sunrise when he returned to his cruiser. It was a lovely eleven-degree day and clear for August. He was going to park observing a main road and intersection until called. He needed to conserve fuel because it was rationed even to the police. Churchill was still a quiet little town without much stirring coming up on 5 am and he’d just turned east when a flash over the horizon dazzled him. The flash faded briefly and then grew again covering a quarter of the horizon. It was further to the north than the natural sunrise.

“Dispatch, I’m uncertain what just happened unless somebody bombed the snot out of Quebec, but I think you should send out a local alert on the phone system to stay away from the bay. Something just came down to the east, man-made or natural I can’t tell you.”

“Yes, we are getting all kinds of alerts on the national systems. What kind of alert should I issue?” his dispatch asked.

“Do you have one on your list for a tsunami?” Howard asked.

“That’s amazing… I do.”

“I’d issue a tsunami alert, a boating hazard alert, and a dangerous weather alert. If folks can’t figure out something strange is happening from all that they are pretty dense.”

“I’m issuing those on your say-so,” the dispatcher said. “If I didn’t have all kinds of weird warnings off the national systems, I’d wake up your supervisor and ask him to make sure you haven’t been drinking.”

“Call the Tundra,” Howard invited her. “I just had breakfast there and they’ll tell you I was as sober as can be.”

“Did you feel that?” Dispatch asked him.

“Feel what? I’m in my cruiser. I didn’t feel anything,” Howard said.

“Like somebody stomped on the floor or dropped something, but I’m alone here for another couple of hours.”

Howard thought about that. He wasn’t stupid and he’d been in the military. He cracked both windows down.

“Don’t be surprised if you hear a boom,” he told his dispatcher. “I think you felt the ground wave and we’ll have an atmospheric shock wave follow on.”

When it arrived, it wasn’t much of a bang, it was more like a muted roar.

“Was that it? I heard something,” Dispatch said.

“Yeah, I have my windows down. You’re all sealed up and it wasn’t that big a deal.”

“Should I leave the warnings up then?” she asked.

“Oh yeah. Any wave will be much slower. I have no idea if it will be three centimeters or three meters,” Howard said. “Better not to take any chances.”

* * *

“I thought eight was sufficient to make our point,” Heather told Jeff. “If we can drop them for a day, we can drop them for a month. As April said, rocks are free.

“They didn’t waste any interceptors trying to shoot down rocks,” Jeff noted. “Not that their systems are optimized to protect the middle of Hudson Bay.”

The only responses I see are some European comments on it,” Dakota said, “and a horrified popular video celebrity who said we will drive the polar bears to extinction.”

“The bay isn’t frozen over by this time of year,” Heather said. “Even I know that from watching nature programs, living on the Moon. I mean, they are great swimmers but it’s a big bay.”

“She’s twenty-seven years old and has been married and divorced four times. She’s still paying alimony to all of them,” Dakota told them. “What does that say about how bright she is?”

“Amazing, what is there to celebrate about someone like that?” Heather asked. “But it’s we Spacers who have no respect for the sanctity of marriage?”

“I suspect her celebrity is based more on her appearance than any expertise in non-human biology or conservation,” Dakota said.

“It does seem like one-year renewable contracts would make a lot more sense for her,” Jeff said. “Or even shorter fixed terms.”

“It is difficult for me to draw moral distinctions between marriage contracts of increasingly shorter periods, as they get closer to your basic one-night standard,” April said. “Why dignify that with any sort of legal acknowledgment?”

“Her last husband came in to fix her hot tub and stayed until she served him papers. I don’t think any of them involved actual planning,” Dakota said.

“How do you find time to follow all this Earth stuff,” April demanded.

“I used to read trashy novels and then I got hooked on trashy reality shows,” Dakota said. “It just got worse after I had the gene mod that reduced my need for sleep. I don’t have all the weighty matters of business and state to consider you people do.”

“OK, if anybody asks you can tell them you are my Minister of Popular Culture,” Heather said.

* * *

The head of Space Forces, Dawson, had a very well-thought-out plan and presentation prepared. He needed to sell it to at least some of the Security Council before laying it out for the President. If it was rejected, he’d express regret and promise to develop a plan that would be more acceptable to everyone. In reality, he’d wait two days in case anyone had enough doubts about his reliability to watch him closely and go about all his normal activities. Then the third night he’d engage a plan to fly to Cuba in a Space Force biz jet.

It was a shame it wasn’t a great plan but if such a thing existed it was beyond his ability to see it. There wasn’t any plan that didn’t carry the danger they’d have to fight the Spacers again. If that happened, he probably wouldn’t survive it. The key to his plan depended on the spacers being as honest as they’d consistently behaved. Since that wasn’t anything that he’d have ever counted on with any Earth government it was scary. The Singh boy, that was how he thought of him, had just served notice on him that he was willing to play the same game of false appearances and work entirely differently behind the scenes. Still, he hadn’t lied . Singh simply said the truth in a way that others could come to wrong conclusions.

There were plenty of public records available that nobody examined in detail. The full transcript of all the debates and voting of the Home Assembly was available. Most people would dismiss such open records as being as dry and unreliable as watching the North American Congress meet. Dawson didn’t think so. The Homies spoke in their Assembly with a candor that was terrifying. They said things no career politician would dare voice. Some publicly considered reducing North America or China to a pre-industrial state with perhaps ten percent of the population remaining. Thankfully, only a few voices considered that desirable, but Dawson was most aware that nobody spoke up and said it wasn’t possible .

Singh never advocated such total war. Dawson searched for Singh’s remarks in all the Assemblies and every news segment where his statements were directly from him, not hear say. He was firmly convinced Singh didn’t want to be seen as a monster and mass murderer. His only worry was that North America’s long history of actions might reach the tipping point needed to convince Singh he had no other choice than to destroy them. There was no telling how close that tipping point might be. Dawson only hoped he could get his people to back off confronting the Spacers and be patient until he had time to set his plan in motion. He wasn’t at all sure his intelligence agencies would accept the importance and intent of Singh’s statement to the South African. It might be too subtle for them, and they’d dismiss it. Better not to introduce it, and imply he depended on it if it couldn’t be believed.

Singh and his ladies seemed to be honest amateurs in the hard-core world of politics. He on the other hand had no problems being a monster if it made his nation and his service the winners in this contest. He’d find out soon enough if his superiors felt the same. If they didn’t, the Southern Hemisphere seemed like it would escape the worst of the devastation a real war with Home would bring on North America. Europe and even Asia would suffer from the temporary climate change such a war would create in the Northern hemisphere. He’d make every effort to get somewhere safe further south if he had to run for Cuba. He’d heard Buenos Aires could be lovely this time of year.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 5

“I think we amused our crew by having them bombard an empty wilderness bay. On the plus side, they had no moral qualms about an uninhabited target but they are anxious to stop humoring us and get back to the business of exploration,” Heather said.

“I hope somebody in the North American command structure found it less amusing,” Jeff said. “They could fool themselves that with a little improvement and investment they can intercept our reentry sleds and rods better, but nobody thinks they can turn aside a hundred-meter rock. Not even with a nuke. Even if they could, we can drop as many as it takes to get through.”

“I’d like to agree with you,” Heather said, “but I’ve given up on expecting rational behavior from the North American government. They may decide to repeal the law of gravity so our rocks can’t fall on their heads.”

“I don’t think they will challenge us again until they need to,” April predicted. “We’ll see if they build another starship and have time to ready a response. Surely, we can allow some exploration to resume again?”

“Not just allow,” Heather said. “We need to stay ahead of them, not get distracted from our goals by letting them keep us in a defensive posture. We need to own safe worlds for when the Solar System is no longer tenable.”

Jeff and April looked unhappy. They both knew that was a possibility but hated to hear it expressed so bluntly.

“Landing is dangerous. I’m asking you to allow our hired crew to land first and only take a turn if there doesn’t appear to be any serious hazard,” Heather said.

“It makes me uncomfortable to value myself more than Deloris or Barak,” Jeff said.

“You don’t have to discomfort yourself,” Heather said. “I’m perfectly willing to be the one to value you more. Neither Deloris nor Barak could step into your role and support me the way you can.”

That was saying a lot since Barak was her brother.

“It isn’t like we are ordering them to march stoically to their deaths. They are all eager to assume the risk for the adventure,” Heather pointed out. “Nobody is suggesting we should wait until we have two landers.”

“And for their shares,” April agreed. She didn’t mean that as a negative at all. “I can live with that as long as you don’t forbid us from going down at all. I couldn’t stand to view it from orbit and not land without some reason for the caution.”

Heather nodded. “Imagine how I feel staying here. I expect eventually it will be safe for me to visit some of the places we discover.”

Any other complaints they had died with Heather’s reminder of her status.

“I’m ready. How long do they need to assemble the equipment for landing?” Jeff asked.

“They already have all the decontamination equipment for pressure suits and isolation suits. They just have to be stowed in the air lock. There are small animals for testing and equipment to take samples,” Heather said. “They have a couple of fat wheel electric bikes for some mobility around the landing site. All of it is ready to go. We won’t try to test biological samples on-site. They’ll have to be brought back to the Moon. Even then our lab is rather limited and we may have to send things to Earth.”

“Be careful not to send anything with commercial value to Earth,” Jeff warned. “If it can be cultured or propagated from the samples, they’ll steal it.”

“Then we may have to expand our testing facilities and hire somebody who can teach themselves to be a xenobiologist,” Heather said.

“On top of historians and project planners,” April reminded her.

“The problem will be to hire someone we can trust ,” Heather replied.

“Perhaps now we can pay some young person to study for these kinds of positions,” Jeff suggested. “Somebody who already knows they want to stay here so we don’t lose them.”

“Why not? We can afford it. There is very little you can’t study remotely now,” April agreed. “We can offer room and board, tuition, a guaranteed job, and a raise in pay rate after training. If they don’t mind living on the Moon. Home is just too expensive.”

Jeff frowned and scrunched his eyebrows together.

“What? I see you thinking about something,” Heather said.

“I said some young person,” Jeff said. “I’m afraid that is lingering Earth Think speaking. With Life Extension, why not someone older who is tired of what they are doing or wants to expand their skills? It’s not the same race against the clock with a limited number of years to get from acquiring skills to retirement now. We need to modify our thinking.”

“There’s something I need to learn before we go,” April said.

“What could that be?” Heather asked surprised.

“I’ve never learned to ride and balance any kind of two-wheeled vehicle,” April said.

They both turned and looked an unspoken question at Jeff.

“Believe it or not, I rode a bicycle when I visited relatives in India. But that was a long time ago and a much lighter vehicle, I’m sure. It didn’t even have a motor, just pedals. I’ll need a refresher and to be qualified on what they are using too.”

“They didn’t bother me with their preparation details,” Heather said, “but I know Barak has never ridden any kind of bike. Ask them to show you how. How hard can it be?”

* * *

“I’d like to make my presentation and get you onboard before I’m called in again to show this to the Security Council,” Dawson said. The Chairman didn’t react much during his presentation and took the printed summary with visible reluctance.

“Tell me what you think of it,” Dawson urged him when he wasn’t forthcoming.

“It seems to me you want to shift the burden of responding to the Spacers off on everyone else,” Dumont said. “You can understand why nobody wants to assume that burden and everyone is happy to leave you to grapple with it. The President wants aggressive action from you and the bulk of your proposal is defensive in nature and expensive both short term and long term. Dispersing everything to make targeting it more difficult would create huge ongoing transportation costs and looks too passive and defeatist. It would make positioning our forces to keep the Texans in check almost impossible. It can’t be fully implemented until well into the next administration.

“Even if the same party prevails, that will leave it at risk of being canceled after a great deal of money and effort go into starting the project. I can’t support it because I know it has no chance of being accepted. You need to scale way back and only disperse those elements the Spacers would target and guarantee the safety of those who have to approve your plan. A broad civil defense initiative and dispersing the entire commercial community for trillions of dollars isn’t going to fly.

“Things like the banking system are already hardened. You aren’t going to disperse and harden things like hospitals and food processing plants. They’re centralized because they need to be a certain size to function efficiently.”

“If we fail to get through the Spacers’ defenses to completely neutralize their command-and-control systems and haven’t positioned ourselves to take their return blow they’ll destroy us,” Dawson objected.

“You need to make it too expensive for them to consider doing that,” Dumont told him. “Your analysis of Singh rings true and I expect his partners share a similar psych profile or will be strongly influenced by him. You can’t say it in the public record because it cedes the moral high ground to them. Rather than aim for a physical victory you tell me has little chance of success, use their moral qualms against them. The other services can help you with that instead of this unworkable proposal.”

“I confess, I’ve thought about how to do that at length and see no way to do it,” Dawson admitted. “None of my people have been able to suggest such a path. The leadership has made clear they expect a solution from Space Forces and I have nothing better to offer even if others would cooperate. Instruct me if you see any course of action I’ve missed.”

“All right, here’s what you need to do,” Dumont said. “I’m only going to tell you this once off the record. I’ll deny it’s mine if you try to pin it on me. If you chose to reject it or adopt it is up to you, but it will work.”

Dawson listened and thought his face was under control but Dumont looked disgusted with him when he finished.

“If you don’t have the stomach for it, you might as well resign,” he suggested. “I can see you don’t like it but it will work and what you are proposing won’t. Do as you will.”

“It will take me a little time to get accustomed to the idea,” Dawson admitted. He thought he was prepared to play the monster over what Singh could, but found he still had limits. He couldn’t bring himself to thank Dumont for his help.

“I don't doubt that President Dewar will buy it. I’m fairly sure nobody has an alternative plan that stands a chance of working. But when it comes to laying it on the Spacers, have State deliver the message,” Dumont said. “If you present it to the Spacers wearing that face, they won’t believe you’ll do it.”

* * *

Jeff closed his eyes tightly to avoid seeing April hit the wall again. Not that she’d hurt herself the first time. It was just painful to see her start to wobble and know how it would end. In the narrow tunnel, all she could manage was a glancing blow. It was enough the first time to bend the fender past fixing. Barak was gracious about it saying the fender wasn’t absolutely necessary and they could probably have one fabricated in an hour or two. It looked to Jeff like he might as well order up another two or three. The soft donut tire, front wheel, and forks were made of sterner stuff and bounced right off the wall.

The seat of the electric bike, Barak called it a Mule, was slung low in the frame. It was like sitting in a chair and very hard to hurt yourself falling from that height in lunar gravity. Her forward motion wasn’t hazardous either. You could keep up at a fast walk.

When there was no sound of impact he looked again. April had somehow regained control and was headed for the opposite wall. He forced himself to watch and she swerved away again continuing down the tunnel erratically but without contact. When she finally turned around and came back, she still wasn’t what you’d call steady but was staying in the center portion of the tunnel for the most part.

“I think this will be easier to do with more gravity,” April complained. “I don’t feel like I get enough feedback to know when it’s going all gollywompers.”

“Let’s hope for a featureless plain with nothing to run into for you to practice.”

“They did say it was a desert world,” April reminded him.

“But not a parking lot,” Jeff said. “I suggest you practice some more.”

* * *

Vic allowed himself the luxury of letting the sun wake him up. The days were getting shorter and there was a nip in the air. There had already been a few light frosts. All the kitchen garden harvest was in the root cellar, dried, or canned. He was so glad they’d limited how many of the jars dug up from the ranch dump they’d sold. Next year's seed potatoes were buried deep in well-drained soil to store them. The old root cellar was another expansion project he needed to tackle to have room for the potato harvest, but not today. All he intended to do today was split some firewood.

The other side of the bed was empty and he could smell the slight odor of wood smoke from the stove being lit. There was also a hint of bacon grease heating that was promising and made his mouth water.

The ting-ting-ting of his satellite phone was a rare and unexpected event. He was less concerned about it now than when it woke him up in the middle of the night. Mr. Mast inquired if he could join a conference with him, Arlo Ritner, his men Mark and Ken, possibly Mr. O’Neil, and some visitors. He was already rejecting this request in his mind because it was so late in the season. It was hard enough to reach Mr. Mast’s home from an early start with less daylight and travel this time of year could be risky even with what modern weather reporting remained functioning.

Then Mast informed him transportation would be provided within the hour of his acceptance if he could spare the time to come. He didn’t say if that would be by air, sedan chair, or luxury limo. One seemed as likely as another.

“Do I need to bring Joe?” Vic sent back. That was their agreed-upon code among the satellite phone owners to inquire if one of them was under duress. Any positive reply meant they were in a bad situation.

“No, Joe isn’t needed. I’d appreciate your input to question these visitors with us,” Mr. Mast said. It wasn’t needlessly mysterious not to identify their visitors. None of them fully trusted the satellite phone's encryption to be unbreakable.

“I’m in,” Vic sent without demanding more information. He was sure Eileen would want to know if there was room for her but Mast hadn’t invited them as a couple. He didn’t think that was an accident. Mast didn’t make those sorts of mindless errors. He had an uneasy feeling about this meeting and didn’t want to identify her to these people until after he knew who they were and what they wanted. He better get up, let her know he’d be gone, eat his breakfast, and get cleaned up.

To his surprise, Eileen didn’t show any interest in going. But his description of the message made her purse her lips thoughtfully.

“If they are providing transportation, you don’t need heavy outdoor clothing. You should wear some of the dressier things you hardly ever use now. We’ve lost the habit of judging a person by their clothing, but that sort of dress will still tell outsiders you are a person of substance and stature.”

“You pick an outfit for me,” Vic allowed. “I’m going to shave, do a quick bath from a basin and wash my hair. I got the impression my ride would be along fairly quickly.”

Eileen nodded in agreement. “Wear your pistol concealed. Take along your best rifle but in a soft case with a couple of extra magazines. Trust me,” she said to his scowl, “It’s a more civilized look, like things aren’t so bad here. I’ll prepare you a thermos too. Little things like that suggest we’re used to sending someone away from home.”

“OK, but no tie,” Vic said. He had to draw the line somewhere.

“No, that would be overkill,” Eileen agreed. “You’re a rancher. But I expect Mr. Mast will be in a suit.

“I’ll try not to be visibly surprised if he is,” Vic said.

“You’re shaving two days early?” Alice asked when she cut through the kitchen and saw Eileen preparing a basin of hot water. “Are we getting middle of the week company?” That was a rare thing.

“Mr. Mast called me into a conference,” Vic informed her. “He’s sending someone to pick me up.”

Alice looked confused, visibly decided not to speak, and left to find Eileen. It was far easier to find out what was happening from her than playing twenty questions with Vic.

“Mr. Mast called a conference. From the other guests invited it is highly political and there are outsiders. That’s all I know,” Eileen told her.

“ You aren’t invited?” Alice was all indignant for her.

“I’m good with that,” Eileen allowed. “I’m too young to be taken seriously by outsiders. By their standards, I was too young to marry Vic. Trying to force them to accept how we’ve accommodated reality here would be a battle and just detract from their purpose for the meeting. My ego isn’t so big that I need to make everything about me.”

“You figure Vancouver is going to take control of the area again?”

“North America or Texas,” Eileen said. “Those are the only possibilities. We’re right in the middle and nobody else has the base to start another nation. Mexico is cut off to the east and will be lucky if Texas doesn’t cut them off below San Diego and take the Baja. Trying to go north around San Diego would just be begging Texas to do just that.”

“Which would you prefer?” Alice demanded.

“Whoever will allow us to leave easiest,” Eileen said. “I want to go to space. I don’t care to stay in North America or Texas.”

“I hear you. Just don’t let it ruin your life if it’s never possible.”

“Don’t worry. I have lots of time and we aren’t even in a place where we can plan yet.”

“Eileen? Do you want to come and explain this to me?” Vic called from the other room.

Eileen winked at Alice and hurried to help him.

Vic was standing in boxers looking at charcoal slacks, a white shirt, a silvery gray cashmere car coat, and a dressy black Stetson laid out. There were fine black dress gloves he’d forgotten he even owned, and his grandfather’s heirloom bolo tie. His wallet that he never carried now, wrap-around sunglasses, and a dress handkerchief, not a bandana, were laid out too.

“You honestly think I need to dress this fancy?”

“The clothes say we aren’t struggling to survive. People who didn’t lose all the modern conveniences might assume we’re desperate. Show them we’re comfortable before they can form the wrong impression and expect to roll right over you.”

“The pants will be a bit loose on me now.”

“That’s why you have a belt. Pleated pants should hang loose. They look terrible with the pleats pulled open. The car coat mostly covers up the seat. Just wear it unbuttoned if it gets warm. If you need to send a message let it fall open enough to show your pistol.”

“But short booties instead of hard dress shoes?”

“They’re still somewhat dressy in leather. Certainly not to be mistaken for work boots or tennis shoes. I saw some oxfords but I’d hate to see you have to walk home in them. You have one change of clothing and a kit to stay overnight in the bag.”

“One hopes things don’t go that badly.” Vic picked up the bolo and looked at it.

“I know you said no tie. I hope you meant a necktie. That fits your role as a prosperous rancher. If it’s Texans instead of North Americans they might appreciate that beautiful hunk of turquoise. I sure do.”

Vic sighed. “If it isn’t the Texans maybe it will make them think about the Texans. I’m not sure that wouldn’t be a good thing too. I’m probably old enough to wear this now without looking silly.”

“That worry is entirely misplaced,” Eileen assured him.

“You pressed them,” Vic suddenly noticed looking at the clothes.

“The electric iron doesn’t retain heat very well but it will work off the cook stove.”

“Thank you. You put a lot of effort into this,” he finally realized.

Eileen just nodded and held his shirt up for him.

When they went back out Alice’s mouth dropped open and she stared.

“See what sort of impression you make?” Eileen asked him.

“OK, I’m buying it. Of course, these people won’t know I don’t look like this every day.”

“I expect they’ll try to impress you some way if they want something from us.”

“Just the fact they are asking to talk and not rolling in to do what they want by force and intimidation says a great deal,” Vic asserted.

“Come in the kitchen and sit at the table where you won’t wrinkle your pants and I’ll make your thermos of tea,” Eileen said.

* * *

Burton Deel was a senior administrator in the Federal Police. He’d briefly been a Federal Marshal early in his career before the agency changed names. When his boss called him in, he wasn’t introduced by name to the man already seated there.

“Burt, this gentleman is with the GAO and is going to make a presentation to your tier of administration and the two below you on behalf of another agency. He’s explained similar offers will be made to other agencies with sworn officers, but that’s none of our concern to know which. I told him you are the sharpest knife in my drawer, and he’s going to ask if you can suggest any improvements to his offer before it’s made to our other people. I’ve already given him my take on it.” He made a hand-turning gesture to the fellow that he had the floor.

“We’d like to gift you with an additional benefit at the cost of a minor favor from you. We’re prepared to fund your move to better housing in exchange for having an additional suite built on the home. What most people call a Mother-in-Law suite. This would have no access to your portion of the house and a separate one-car garage with an entry to the suite. You wouldn’t have access to that portion and an independent agency would maintain it and keep it in a ready state without bothering you.”

“Sounds more like a safe house than a Mother-in-Law suite,” Burton said.

“That’s a fair characterization, but you wouldn’t ever house anyone in the criminal justice system. It’s not part of a witness protection scheme. It would be used in emergencies to house senior government officials. For your protection and theirs, you wouldn’t know who might utilize it and that might change at any time. The area of this suite will be large but the building will be made in such a way that won’t be apparent from the outside. Such things as chimneys and plumbing vent pipes will be merged inside. Your portion will be a significant improvement from your current home and we will handle the sale of it and guarantee an agreed-upon sales price. Public records of these transactions will be classified and you will be sheltered from the tax consequences to aid in the secrecy.”

“What happens down the road if I retire or want to leave the force?” Burton asked.

“Just like the sale of your present home, we’d handle any future sales. We foresee a slow but steady expansion of this concept, so it’s likely the home would be offered on similar terms to another Federal employee.”

“Is this going to be a closed gated community like some big city PDs have done?”

“Not at all. They are going to be widely dispersed and further from the city. Most people will find the area to which they move much more desirable than their old one.”

“That will significantly increase my commute time,” Burton worried.

“Supervisors at your level are all going remote as part of this program,” he was informed. “In the very rare case you must meet it will be set up somewhere like a hotel with a conference room. We are also imposing limits on socialization outside work. I know many of you formed friendships to share lunch, had workmates as golf partners, or similar. In some cases, your families know each other. Being physically dispersed would limit that in any case, but we’ll ask you to identify two other people or families with which you intend to remain in social contact. Maintaining a wider association would enable outside organizations to trace contacts and keep a database of your internal structure. Those who agree to this offer would of course in most cases sever their association with you. Those who can’t agree will be ineligible.”

“And may still find that their office friends have disappeared forever,” Burton said.

The gentleman just inclined his head to allow the point.

“I think I’d be a fool not to take the offer,” Burton decided. “Will we have any choices about what area we’d get or the nature of the building?”

“There will be several choices from architectural drawings and the earliest adapters get more choices of location. Do you have any suggestions?”

“Yes, my two boys are teenagers now. My peers in the administration are of a similar age. I can instruct them to ignore things as part of my job at their age. However, if you expand this to lower ranks you are going to get people with younger children. It may be difficult to keep them from innocently making revealing statements. It’s not very predictable what they may blurt out.”

“That’s exactly what we were looking for from you. I’ll make a note of that,” he said.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 6

Traveling so many jumps together was not yet routine. Both ships closed up on each other and did a navigation check after each jump, comparing pulsar readings in each system before proceeding. Nothing broke and no problems surfaced but they carefully didn’t allow themselves to get separated widely enough to have trouble finding each other in a new system.

“I’m going to assume a geostationary orbit so we can stay in constant contact once you are on the ground,” April informed the crew on Dionysus’ Chariot once in the target system. “It’s not as if we could drop to rescue you from a lower orbit anyway. We’ll at least know what happened if you get in trouble. Heather pointed out that if we had two landers, it would tempt us to lose both by trying a rescue. It would be better for our coms if you stick to the low latitudes for a landing site.”

“Yeah, on the plus side, the screams and desperate last transmission when the sand worms emerge to consume us will sell for big money to the news services,” Delores said.

“I pictured hordes of black Bugs pouring forth like in Starship Troopers, but worms will do,” April allowed. “Try to get us some good video in your last moments.”

“I’m going for just southwest of the oasis at 12.783 degrees north, 80.724 degrees west on our survey map. It looks flat and clear with no big boulders or prominent features. We’ll orbit until you report you are in position so you can watch us land.”

“How much daylight will you have to work with?” April asked.

“Assuming you get positioned in the next two hours we’ll have about half of the twenty-five-and-a-half-hour day. That’s another reason I picked the site.”

“Sounds good. We’re moving and will call as soon as we are in position over you.”

April gave a nod to Johnson her pilot and they jumped out.

When they had the Hringhorni in position, the world was in front of them with the terminator to their left easing away. When Dionysus’ Chariot came around the world and they had its signal, they gave them the OK to land.

They watched the video from the lander without comment. Jeff looked over at April and she looked really unhappy.

“I know, I’d rather be doing the first landing too,” he told her.

“It makes sense, and I know in one way it is a huge compliment to be so valued. It’s just like when you were excluded from the Home Militia because nobody wanted to risk you.”

“Exactly,” Jeff agreed. “Maybe in the future, we’ll get to a place where all the people for whom we are responsible are safe from Earth and we can once again have the luxury of risking ourselves.”

“It doesn’t seem like that huge a risk,” April objected.

“But you can’t quantify it, can you?” Jeff countered.

“No. I’d have argued with Heather if I could, but there are too many unknowns. We don’t have any history of first landings to compare.”

Jeff just nodded. The terrain was starting to show details as Dionysus’ Chariot dropped. There was a difference from Earth's terrain even at this altitude. There was a lack of shaping from water. There were no prominently visible water sheds with large rivers, no extreme mountain ranges, and the land-to-ocean ratio was reversed if not a little drier than Earth.

“If this is a good world for us, I wonder if it could be improved by the long-term addition of cometary ice dropped on the poles?” Jeff wondered.

“I think we need to study what’s here for a few hundred years and understand it before we think about altering it,” April said. “The plant life they’ve seen from orbit might be so acclimated to dry conditions that more water would harm them. At the very least it might narrow the range in which they could survive.”

“See that dark spot?” Jeff asked. “I think that’s the oasis they mentioned.”

The spot slid off the edge of the camera view as the ship went more vertical.

There was just a brief window of a few seconds where they were low enough that the details of individual rocks and differences in slope were visible and then the Chariot’s exhaust raised an obscuring cloud of dust.

“And . . . we’re down and only two degrees off the vertical. It seems solid, no sinking motion happening, so we are powering down,” Deloris reported.

The dust seemed very light colored, more beige than brown. It blew away faster than it fell. One camera showed it dissipating to the east. The other quickly showed a barren landscape with a pink sky.

“Is that sky color for real?” Jeff demanded. “Does it look the same out a port?”

“Pretty close,” Deloris said. “I’m looking at the camera feed and out the port. The color runs more to the blue straight overhead but redder right near the horizon.”

“OK, I can see that a little now that you point it out,” Jeff said. “I don’t see any vegetation at all. It kind of looks like Mars.”

“I’m zooming in and examining it in more detail,” Barack reported. “Those dark areas on the north side of the rocks aren’t all shadow. There’s some sort of vegetation sheltering there.”

“How’s the air?” April asked. “That’s my first concern. Will we be able to walk around without needing a mask?”

“The mini-lab is still processing it,” Alice reported. “Gross pressure is 1,153mb so there is lots of something . No idea how breathable it is yet.”

“Thanks,” April said. She wanted to babble a whole list of questions but restrained herself. They would rightly resent being micro-managed.

“Nothing toxic showing, which the software would report first,” Barack said. “OK, almost no humidity. Just over fifteen percent relative humidity for the conditions, and nineteen and a half degrees. You’ll lose a lot of water just breathing.”

“Something just floated past my port!” Deloris called out.

“Flying?” Barak asked.

“No, I don’t think so. It didn’t have any motion like flapping wings. It just glided by. I barely caught a glimpse of it and it was gone before I could focus on it. Something carried on the wind I’d say.”

“We’re getting some numbers,” Alice said. “Oxygen is going to be a problem. It’s about two-thirds of Earth's normal.”

“Sea level normal?” Barack asked.

“Yeah, that’s the standard.

“How does it compare to higher Earth elevations?” Barack wondered.

“I have to look up a few things to figure it out,” Alice replied. “Give me a minute.”

“Earth-normal is a joke,” Alice declared in a bit. “Their pressure varies a lot even with the weather . What I’m reading off the charts is the air outside is equivalent to about thirty-one hundred meters. Most people can function at that altitude but it makes some of them sick, both short-term and long-term. We shouldn’t exert ourselves and watch for signs we aren’t thinking clearly or getting nauseous. One can become acclimated to it but not quickly.

“There’s supplemental oxygen in the medical kit,” Barack said. “We should take that with us if we travel very far from the ship.”

“Nitrogen is about like Earth but the noble gases higher. Carbon dioxide is a hundred eighty parts per million. Some Earth plants would be struggling at that level,” Alice said.

“I don’t think we’ll be planting fields of corn under an open sky but greenhouses should work just fine,” Jeff predicted. “And far easier than the lunar cabbage mines.”

“Or we may find other planets so much nicer and easier to live on we won’t bother with this one,” April predicted.

“It does have a certain beauty,” Deloris objected. “We deliberately landed in a featureless area. Other places with a more interesting landscape combined with the different sky might attract tourists.”

“Especially if you build a five-star hotel with every comfort,” Alice said.

She got no reply because nobody could decide if it was sincere or sarcasm.

“I’ll expose half the mice and hamsters to the outside air,” Alice said. “I’m not sure how sensitive to the pressure they are. I’ll pump it up to match the ship level partial pressure of oxygen to eliminate that factor. If they survive, we’ll expose ourselves tomorrow. I’ll keep our internal pressure up so we are at a slight positive pressure to the outside. If there is a leak anywhere, I’d rather it be to the outside until we know more.”

“Go ahead and do that,” Deloris agreed.

“We’re still good to do a walk around in pressure suits and get some samples before we see if the little critters survive?” Barak asked.

“I don’t see why not, with a decontamination shower,” Deloris said. “It seems a very safe environment in the immediate area. I will of course sit it out as planned, so I can recover the ship after the sandworms eat you.”

“Works for me. Want to flip a coin to see who is first to step on the new world?” Barak asked Alice.

“I don’t care for being in the history books. The glory is all yours,” Alice allowed.

Once they were suited up and checked each other Barak and Alice entered the lock and sealed it. They opened the outer door and deployed an expanded metal platform bolted to the airlock floor. Once outside, Barak reached out and flipped two wings open to triple the platform width. There was a spray wand to use when they came back and he positioned it where he could reach it from outside. Dionysus’ Chariot had pop-out ladder rungs that deployed from the flush surface and Barak actuated those from the lock. He reached outside and clipped his cable reel on the top rung, locked it, then snapped the end clip on his suit.

“Exiting,” he warned Deloris and stepped out on the platform for the first time. The cable had an arrester and he yanked on it to make sure it locked if it reeled out too fast.

“Fall arrester tests good,” Barak reported and swung off the platform onto the rungs.

Alice leaned her head out and watched Barak reach the ground and take the cable off. Barak pressed the button on the cable termination and it slowly pulled itself back. Alice watched the winch carefully in case the slack cable got snarled. When it was about two meters shy of retracted, she turned it off at the winch, took the end up, and clipped it on the eyelet on her shoulder. Her descent was just like Barak’s. When she reached the ground, she hooked the extended cable on the third rung of the stub ladder hanging under the retractable section. Deloris and the crew in the Hringhorni watched it all from a camera on the hull panned down as well as helmet cameras on both explorers.

“I’d like to get a sample of whatever sort of vegetation is nestled in close to those rocks,” Barak told them.

“Put on an over-glove and discard it in the box with the sample, please,” Deloris instructed. “Just in case it’s like poison ivy or has some sort of chemical defense.”

The nearest clump was about fifty meters away and they walked there slowly being cautious about their footing.

“It appears to be a group of individual plants like miniature bamboo. It has joints spaced along its length,” Barak dictated although they all saw the same thing. It went to the log.

“The bulges are nodes,” Jeff informed him, “and the sections between them internodes along the culm. But of course, they aren’t really bamboo if you wish to assign a different naming convention as the discoverer.”

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that,” Barak said. You could hear he was amused in his voice. “I have some flush cutters. I’ll snip off five or six sections, internodes that is. If it’s hollow like bamboo it should be easier in the middle.”

“There is solid bamboo too, Jeff said, “but it will be interesting to see what this is.”

“How do you know so much about bamboo?” Barak wondered. He cut off a piece even as he spoke.

“We’ve been collecting everything we can to make sure if Earth is ever lost, we have as great a variety of plants and animals as we can preserve. There are over a thousand species but we only bought about fifty varieties. The cabbage mines test everything we archive to make sure we can keep propagating it. We grew the bamboos in a vertical bore and they did very well. You propagate them from the rhizomes, the roots to simplify it. Different people arranged to preserve all sorts of plants. April’s friend Dr. Ames did mushrooms, which I understand was easily too much to dump on one person.”

The flush cutters separated Barak’s sample with an audible >SNICK<.

“That was pretty tough stuff,” Barack told them. “It is hollow but thick-walled and it’s dripping a thick fluid.”

“Be sure to decontaminate your cutters when you return,” Deloris reminded him.

“And the holster for them,” Barak added agreeing with her.

The little stem went into a tube and was stoppered.

“I’m going to start a trash bag so I don’t have to waste a bigger container for the gloves. I may use several pairs,” Barak decided.

“Look at the stump,” Alice told them. She leaned closer with her camera.

The stem slowly oozed a ball of thick fluid on the end. The shiny wet surface turned to a matte finish quickly as it dried.

“I wonder if it will grow back through that blob or if it just seals off the roots to protect it?” Alice asked.

“The stalks may have a common root system, but I’d rather put off digging it up to another day,” Barak said.

“Or another trip with a real biologist,” April suggested.

“And a geologist,” Alice said picking up pebbles. “I’m trying to get a variety by color.”

Barak slipped on another pair of gloves.

“There are a few tiny leaves of a different plant on the edge of the bamboo stuff,” Barak said. “It looks like a succulent of some kind. I’ll snip a piece. Do you have any technical terms for succulents, Jeff?”

“Alas, like mushrooms, succulents were somebody else’s concern.”

“Start back please,” Deloris said. “Suit work is tiring and I want a careful, thorough, decontamination. By the time you are unsuited and redressed, we’ll all be ready for supper. The planet's day is over an hour short on daylight at this latitude now, so we’ll want to get to bed soon.”

“Roger that, headed back,” Barak said.

Alice went up first, climbing just fast enough to keep some slack on the cable, and lowered it to Barak. When he joined her on the platform, they laid out their samples and sealed the trash bags, spraying them with a sterilizing mist. Alice got sprayed down, lifting her arms, and spreading her legs. She gripped the edge of the lock and got her boot bottoms sprayed.

Stepping inside, she ran Barak through the same sequence and handed him a net bag for their samples. Alice sat on a bench and lifted her feet while Barak folded the platform up and pulled it into the lock with them. He had to sit on the bench and push it the rest of the way in with his feet.

Once the outer door was shut. he fogged the room down with the spray from top to bottom. Once everything was soaked, he switched the wand to water and flushed the lock down from top to bottom. They took turns spraying each other, then did the lock all over again. The flush water was sucked down a drain on the floor and expelled outside.

“I’m glad you had us come back,” Barak told Deloris. “This decon is a lot more work and tiring than I expected. I won’t have any trouble sleeping after we have a bite.”

“I’m going to slowly drop our pressure to near local by morning. We’ll still use the lock to take the bikes outside and lower them, but I’m not ready to flood the ship with the ambient atmosphere and expose Barak even if the animals are doing OK,” Deloris said.

“We’re going to take a meal break and get to sleep early to stay synchronized with you,” April informed the ground crew. Our com is set to rouse us if you call.”

“We won’t unless it’s an emergency. Good night,” Deloris said.

* * *

The noise was so strange it made Vic jerk in surprise, then he was embarrassed.

“That’s so weird. I used to filter that noise out when it was common. Now it’s so obnoxious it’s alien,” Eileen said.

“You’re just trying to make me feel better for getting all twitchy,” Vic said.

The sound got louder and deeper until they could feel it in the floorboards and then abruptly stopped. They got up anticipating the knock on their door.

“Good day. Is this the Foy residence?” the young soldier in digicam asked.

“Yes sir, you found us. I’m Victor Foy and we were expecting you. I’m guessing from your tabs you are Lieutenant Porter?”

“Yes sir. Are you ready to go to the Mast compound?”

“Ready,” Vic agreed. “This is my wife Eileen and our house guest, Alice.”

Eileen gave Vic a significant look that said she’d seen the Lone Star on the soldier’s shoulder patch. He winked on the side Porter couldn’t see.

Porter almost succeeded in hiding his surprise Eileen wasn’t Vic’s daughter. He covered by standing straighter, giving her a nod that approached a bow, and saying, “Ma’am,” with every appearance of deference.

“Drive carefully and be aware bandits are still not unknown in the area,” Eileen told him sternly. “If you have any problems, be assured my husband is a significant backup, not just pretty.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Porter said again. Eileen had a command voice all out of proportion to her age or size and it visibly affected Porter. He managed not to salute.

His vehicle was an open off-road four-seater with knobby tires and a roll cage. Vic clipped the strap of his overnight bag around the roll cage behind his seat. He put his rifle case between his legs and zipped it open halfway so he could get to it without delay, before belting himself in. Porter watched that with interest but had no comment.

There was a GPS unit in a holder on the dash and his route from Mast’s to the Foys’ was marked in green. Vic wasn’t thrilled to know the Texans had his home location now.

“I understand Mr. Mast has a trading fair,” Porter said. “Do you folks walk that far?” The vehicle was loud enough that he had to raise his voice but not shout.

“We take bikes,” Vic said, “but it’s still a good ride. Especially hauling goods.”

The lieutenant sped up when he had a clear view and not much debris on the road but slowed down significantly when approaching a curve or when there was dirt and gravel washed across the roadway.

“Slow down on this stretch,” Vic asked, “I want to look for something.”

He signaled with his hand to slow more and then stop. Looking across the lieutenant it was obvious his eyes were searching the ground but he waved to go on.

“What was that place?” Porter asked.

“Those three small trees standing alone with all the branches trimmed off used to have heads on them. Skulls the last couple of times we passed. Somebody seems to have knocked them off. That’s OK. Everybody who travels this road will have seen them and got the message. I kind of figured that they were gone if you didn’t comment on seeing them on the way out. I’m told by folks from the coast that we have a reputation. They said that people who go raiding east into the hills don’t come back.”

“Bandits like your wife mentioned?”

“Yeah, the idiots tried to rob some salt sellers who come to Mast’s fair from the next county. They did a spray and pray and found out the salt dealers were shooters.”

Porter didn’t question him further but seemed more attentive driving now.

* * *

“My turn today,” Deloris informed Barak.

“Are you sure you want to risk it? I’d be happy to test the environment for a day before we commit our main pilot. The test animals aren’t a conclusive safety check.”

“You are entirely capable of lifting the Chariot to a safe orbit and home,” Deloris insisted. “If you feel unable, we’ve failed somewhere. April or Jeff could program a lift remotely and rendezvous with us from their vantage point if only Alice was left. Your commander is exercising her prerogative in quiet circumstances to leave her able second in command.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Barak said to what were clear orders.

The process of extending the platform and taking the electric bikes outside was greatly simplified by not wearing pressure suits. A little crane extended above the lock made lowering them easy.

“What does it smell like?” Barak asked them when they were both at ground level.

“There’s no distinctive odor,” Alice said. “It’s not like we’re in a meadow or woods surrounded by vegetation. The tiny patches of plants in the shade of the rocks would need to have a really strong odor to be noticeable. It doesn’t smell dusty either. Oh wow… I feel… a little short of breath after talking.”

“Breath out through your mouth and force it through your lips to raise the pressure in your lungs,” Deloris instructed. “That’s called huff breathing. If you don’t feel better in just a minute or two, we will switch you off with Barak. I don’t want you getting sick away from the ship.”

Alice nodded, saving her breath to follow instructions. She took visibly deep breaths and exhaled through pursed lips.

“That works quickly,” Alice said. “I think I’m good to go.”

“My battery shows 96% charged and good for fifty-two kilometers,” Deloris said.

Alice reached into the recessed power lockout and turned her key.

“My self-diagnostic says it’s good and 98% charged for fifty-four kilometers,” Alice said.

“There’s not a strong enough magnetic field to set up a compass,” Deloris said. “Set your navigation screen on inertial and a map from our overhead photo set twenty kilometers on a side. It looks like we need to go about eight kilometers northeast.”

“Have fun,” Barak said a bit wistfully.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 7

There were seven more of the off-road style scout cars and two heavier vehicles at Mr. Masts. They passed one of the light vehicles as they came within sight of Mast’s with two troopers seated in it and a light machine gun mounted on the roll cage. They weren’t made to stop. Vic could see another checkpoint set up down the road in the other direction.

His driver took him right up to Mast’s front steps and came around to escort him to the door. There was an armed trooper standing guard beside the door who advanced to the edge of the porch.

“No armed outsiders inside the Major’s security perimeter,” the man directed at his driver.

Vic just dumped his overnight bag back behind his seat. “Take me back home,” he told the lieutenant. He got back in the car and settled in. He didn’t unzip his gun case again, thinking that might be taken as a provocation.

“I will take you home, but by your leave, may I go inside and ask if this is known to the Major?”

“Sure, knock yourself out,” Vic invited. He worked to keep his face neutral and thought he pretty well succeeded. If the lieutenant took too long Vic reflected on the fact the keys were still hanging in the ignition.

It wasn’t long before the Major himself came out, spoke quietly to the guard, and descended the stairs to the car. He offered his hand and Vic took it but didn’t climb out of the car.

“My apologies. I’m Major Hemple. My man mistakenly thought we would follow the same rules we do in bivouac. He’s been informed otherwise and word is being spread to all my security detail.”

“Just to be clear, you aren’t placing the area under martial law?” Vic asked. “Pretty much everybody hereabouts goes armed, and if you try to disarm them it’ll be a massacre.”

He didn’t detail who would be massacred.

“No, we hope to place the north part of the state under normal Texan law, but that and more are what we want to discuss with you and the other local leaders,” Hemple said.

“I guess I’m the first to arrive then,” Vic said.

Hemple had a question on his face but didn’t ask it. He just nodded his agreement. Vic climbed back out and retrieved his kit.

“Don’t be surprised if the others coming are much more heavily armed than me,” Vic explained. “To the point that it may alarm your men. I’d hate to see them react badly because folks here will fire on you if you are first to point a weapon at them.”

“Thank you. I’ll issue orders to avert that,” Hemple said. He didn’t seem in such a rush to do it that he wouldn’t walk Vic in. Vic leaned his rifle case against the staircase inside and dumped his overnight bag there. If he did stay overnight, he’d be going upstairs.

They went into Mast’s dining room. The table had two sections added from when Eileen and he visited. The Major did go to the other end where a soldier had two laptops and a radio set up and quietly gave the man instructions. Vic seated himself.

“Mr. Mast is down at the barn,” he told Vic when he came back. He took a seat and turned it toward Vic. “He’s graciously allowed us to use an area there and is taping off a couple of places he uses for storage as off-limits.”

“I use that service myself,” Vic said. “It’s easier to let him keep trade goods between fairs than haul them back and forth.”

“I expected more visible security for a trading center in an area without any normal police force in operation,” Hemple said.

“He’s probably removing or deactivating some of his security,” Vic said. “You can’t blame him for not sharing the details of his systems when you have no need to know. He’s had armed raiders attack the place before and his arrangements have been sufficient.”

“Before we have a crowd here, let me ask you how you feel about the Republic’s intention to annex this area. If you have any more insights about where I will have difficulties or find an easy agreement. Just like your explanation of Mr. Mast’s security arrangements, I’d like to hear them.”

“The North Americans haven’t made any effort to reestablish control here. I suspect most folks would welcome it if it meant a return to what they consider normal. That is electric power and the sale of gasoline as well as a return to stores being supplied. I doubt many of them are thinking about a return to property taxes and income tax. I understand the county records are destroyed. I have documents to establish my claim to where I am living but I wonder how many others do? Some of them are squatters in homes where the owners and their heirs are likely dead. If you demand back taxes or start turning people out who took refuge in abandoned homes, they have nowhere to go and no way to get there. That wouldn’t go over well at all and create problems for people like me who are long-term residents.”

“Those are all valid concerns. However, they aren’t things I will address. I expect a new county government will be put in place when the area is secure, but honestly have no idea how that will happen.”

“If you try to bring in outsiders and install them in charge without any vote or consultation with the locals you’ll get resistance,” Vic told him. “There’s already a basic local communications system by radio and those who the residents regard as leaders. I sort of assumed you knew that, or you wouldn’t have turned up here dealing with Mast.”

“We did inquire as we came into the area and were directed to Mast and his site here as a fairground. Not everybody was willing to speak with us. Some of the homes when we approached to inquire if there was any local authority were abandoned. Indeed, in one place they fled so quickly that they left food cooking on the woodstove. I had it set off before it burned and smoked the place up and we moved on since they didn’t wish to meet us.”

“You can’t blame them if a large group of armed men shows up and they had a safe line of retreat. They had no idea what you intended. I’d do the same unless I knew I didn’t have time or would be too visible leaving to get away with it,” Vic said. “People will want to hear what kind of law they are going to be asked to live under. I have no idea how Texan law differs from North American. I have things flown in from Nevada and I have bank accounts I can access there. Will my friend still be able to fly in and bring us supplies and will I be able to do business with the North American dollars I hold? I’m not a veteran, but some people are sworn to North America. They may feel they have to renounce their citizenship to assume another or need to move back across the border when they can.”

Hemple smiled. “We intend to take Nevada at the same time, so your pilot friend will be inside the border with you, but eventually he’ll be regulated when the civil aviation authority follows into the area with all the other agencies. Right now, North American dollars are welcome in Texas but the opposite isn’t true. There are still North American dollars circulating with a Texan over-stamp on them that are accepted at par. There are North American banks in a few of the big cities, but most small branches are closed. They are limited in what transactions they can do for you in North America. It’s easier to deal with other distant countries sometimes than our North American neighbor. I understand the situation is worse in Mexico. They are stamping dollars too but wild rumors circulate and stamped dollars go up and down in value in the border areas.”

“So, there’s still really a Mexican government like my satellite news claims?”

“Yes, but it has withdrawn its military from the border area and is being economically absorbed. They are independent now from North America in everything short of making an official declaration. It’s a touchy fluid situation. The state governors have declared a council that is effectively a Mexican Federal government in an open-ended state of emergency. The border states are sending representatives to Texas. The odd thing is that while they effectively cede territory in the east, they have poured military into southern California up to the edge of LA. They have established a perimeter well back from the North American base at San Diego. My superiors seem happy to let them be a buffer between us there. It has to be odd for the San Diego base being surrounded by their own nominal ally’s forces but they seem less likely to fire on each other.”

“If I have trouble transferring my NA dollars, is gold jewelry still legal to sell in Texas?” Vic asked. He held up his hand to show Hemple his ring.

“Not only gold jewelry, but it is legal to make payment contracts in gold now in Texas. They haven’t tried to establish an exchange rate. They just allow it to be contracted by weight.” Hemple said. “Unfortunately, I’m still paid in Texan dollars.”

“That’s good. I’m attached to my wedding band but it’s nice to have the option if I need to raise funds.” Vic hoped his face didn’t betray how interested he was.

Mr. Mast came in, and Vic was amazed he had on a suit just as Eileen predicted.

“I have a neighbor lady and her daughter in starting lunch. I cook for myself but I always call them in when I have company. They should have it ready in another half hour.”

“Thank you. We have supplies. Is there anything we can contribute?” Hemple asked.

“No, I mean, you can feed most of your men as you usually do. My ladies couldn’t feed your full force out of our little kitchen. You’re welcome to set up a field kitchen down by the barn. I just intend to feed your close staff you have here at the house and the people I’ve invited in like Victor here. I’ll leave up to you which is which.”

“OK, thank you. I’ll tell my aide to sort that out for me,” Hemple agreed.

“After lunch, our other guests should be here,” Mr. Mast said, “and we can get down to business. Vic, why don’t you take your things to the room you stayed in before? If you want to come back down, we’ll have a drink before lunch.”

“Thanks, that sounds good,” Vic said. If Mr. Mast wanted him to stay over, he wasn’t about to ask why in front of Hemple but he was curious.

* * *

Deloris and Alice drove about as fast as they could have jogged. At least as fast as they could have jogged with more oxygen. They aimed around larger rocks and the big soft tires evened out the bumps from smaller ones. Barak and the crew above got the feed off their helmet cameras and what little chatter they had on radio headsets.

Alice stopped to chip a piece off a boulder that stood out for being white and different from all the others they’d seen. They took photos of several patches of vegetation that looked a little different and clipped a sample of one that was burgundy-colored.

When the oasis came into view it wasn’t a sudden change. The vegetation got somewhat thicker and some clumps didn’t shelter in the shadow of rocks. As they continued some trees came into view.

“I’ve never seen them in person, of course,” Alice said, “but these remind me of pictures of old Earth pines that manage to grow on the crags with their roots in cracks that don’t appear to have any soil. They have that same look of being bent to the wind.”

“Which is odd,” Deloris said. “We haven’t seen any strong wind blowing yet, but it must happen to sculpt them like that. Maybe it’s seasonal.”

“I’ll snip off a leaf and a bit of the stem it’s on,” Alice said.

They pulled up to one on the side to which it leaned so they could take a cutting without even getting off their bikes. The sample cut off easily but what surprised them was the other leaves on that branch curled shut and retracted into the woody twig behind them. Then slowly it spread from their branch until the entire tree withdrew its leaves to protect them.

“Well, that tells me something,” Alice said. “Something eats them or something else happens periodically to threaten the tree. That was amazing to see the message spread through the entire plant.” She looked around. “The next tree is a good seventy or eighty meters away, but I wonder, if it’s a chemical signal might a closer tree sense it?”

“If we find a couple of them much closer you can test it. I’d do it on the up-wind tree,” Deloris suggested.

“And the leaf I cut off didn’t roll up like the ones still attached,” Alice said.

“Too late to help it, wasn’t it?” Deloris reasoned.

“I see one bigger pond and three smaller ones in the overhead. I’d like to get a water sample for sure,” Alice requested.

“That’s fine, then we’ll go through and out the other side of the oasis and circle around the perimeter clockwise to head back,” Deloris decided.

“This is the big one, and it doesn’t look like much, does it?” Alice asked.

The water was murky and the edge was swampy with reed-like plants. There wasn’t any way to approach for a sample that wouldn’t leave them with a muddy mess to clean up. They didn’t have any high-top boots or waders.

“There are some bigger lakes towards the poles, but yeah, call it a pond,” Deloris agreed.

“I don’t want to go wading anyway,” Alice said. “It’s probably full of tentacled monsters.”

“Tie a cord around the neck of a sample bottle and toss it out past the weeds,” Deloris advised. “If you pull it back in fast enough it shouldn’t drag along the bottom and get full of muck and stuff.”

“I think you mean sediment.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

Alice pulled on some fresh glove, got a bright yellow cord about four millimeters in diameter, and tied it around the bottle, saving the cap in her pocket.

“I’m not sure I can throw it that far,” Alice admitted.

“Give it to me. I’ll show you how to do it,” Deloris promised.

Deloris tied the empty end of the cord around her left wrist. She let out about a meter of the cord from the bottle and stood sideways to the pond. She twirled the bottle in a vertical circle, easy at first, and then whipped it around faster. When it was on the rise towards the pond, she let go and it flew in an arch well beyond the reeds. It sank but bobbed up and didn’t sink again enough to get the opening below the surface.

“It’ll tip over when I pull it in,” Deloris said, doing just that. About halfway back it was sinking and something bumped it from below. Twice more something impacted the bottle but whatever it was didn’t break the surface and it wasn’t big enough to swallow the bottle.”

“We’ll skip swimming until we know what’s down there,” Alice joked.

Deloris cut the cord, capped it, and set it on a bare rock. She put the cord in the waste sack followed by the gloves. The sample bottle got sprayed with a sterilizing agent and then the bottom before it went in the collection box. She rinsed her hands with water to make sure there wasn’t any trace of the irritating chemical on them.

“I bet we don’t have a single fish hook in either ship,” Alice complained.

“I could have one fabricated,” April said from orbit, “but I don’t want to remove a specimen when we have no idea of their population. It’s such a harsh environment we might be endangering them to remove even one.”

“How will you find out anything about them then?” Alice asked.

“Next trip we’ll have a little submersible drone and just look at them,” April said.

Riding slowly around the pond they found a thin stream that fed successively smaller ponds. In the end, they were all connected. The last one had a stream leaving it but about a kilometer into the desert it petered out.

“It’s probably down there flowing along the bedrock,” Deloris speculated. “I wonder if there are significant aquifers?”

“If there are, it will make the planet much more habitable,” Jeff said, “but I’d like to avoid all the mistakes Earthies have made with depleting or polluting them.”

“The vegetation does extend from the center of the oasis along the direction of the water flow here,” Alice said looking at the overhead pix. “So, we’re back out on the perimeter. If, as Deloris said, we turn right and follow the edge of the vegetation around the oasis we’ll come back to our route in from the ship.”

“That’s the plan, go ahead and lead for a while,” Deloris invited.

After some time, Deloris called a halt.

“April, Jeff, if you will note where we are now, the land is flat enough to land the Chariot here. It isn’t as big an area as where we landed but plenty big as a landing field. It’s nice because some of the trees are visible from here.”

“That’s good because April can see them without a long bike ride,” Jeff said. “I’m still not confident she should ride further than she can walk back.”

“I’m not either,” April admitted. “I want to see how steady I am in higher gravity. Don’t worry, if I’m not steady, I won’t be stupid.”

“Thank you,” Jeff said.

“What’s that?” Alice asked. Her helmet camera showed a pink sky and her arm extended, index finger pointing. Deloris’ camera showed her glancing at Alice but following the line of her arm to the sky.

“I don’t see anything,” Deloris said after a pause. Jeff and April said nothing. They couldn’t see anything either, but their high-definition video still wasn’t the same as seeing something by eyeball.

“It was light glinting off something but I couldn’t tell what,” Alice said. “I only saw it for a second or less and lost it.”

“Wouldn’t you know we’d find a world with UFOs,” Deloris quipped.

“Or it could be a wind-blown candy wrapper,” April said deadpan.

“Maybe it has bugs,” Jeff suggested. “Insect wings can reflect light.”

“I will only predict you are all wrong,” Alice decided.

“You always play it safe,” Deloris accused her. “Let’s get rolling again. Watch for our tracks and we’ll follow them back.”

When they returned to the ship, they didn’t use a disinfectant spray as they had with pressure suits, but they bagged their clothing and showered in the lock using the same wand system. After they bagged their toweling, they entered to get clean clothes.

When they lifted, Deloris jumped out from five hundred meters. That saved a lot of mass and was a standard maneuver now. Nobody had jumped into an atmosphere yet, and probably wouldn’t until some life-or-death emergency required it. They proceeded to trade crew with the Hringhorni.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 8

Should he keep his pistol? Mr. Mast kept the house cool but not cool enough to warrant leaving the car coat on. Vic decided leaving it showing under his left elbow wouldn’t raise any eyebrows locally so he should keep it. If the Texans thought they were going to disarm them better to hear about a deal-breaker early before they reached too many other agreements. He didn’t think Texas could have changed that radically but you never know.

Mast, the Major, and an aide were sitting with drinks around the end of the table. The cook’s young daughter was setting plates at the other end.

“Get yourself a drink and we’re going across the hall to my library so Tiersa can set the table,” Mast informed Vic. “The carafe is sweet blackberry wine.”

Vic marveled that Mast had bourbon, scotch, and brandy still hoarded or imported at great expense. The soldiers probably had no idea what an extravagance that was here. If they weren’t impressed, he was. Vic took the wine knowing it was probably a local product and easier to replace. He ended up at the tail of the group going across the hall to the library.

There was a fire built ready to light in the fireplace and Mr. Mast reached under the grate putting a match to the tinder in the bottom. The kindling above got progressively heavier in layers until two log sections were laid across on top. Heavier log sections were stacked to one side on the broad hearth, more kindling to the other side. The warmth would be welcome. The dining room got some heat from the kitchen but it was cooler here across the hall. Vic might have kept his coat after all.

“So, are you a rancher, Mr. Foy?” the aide asked.

Vic immediately wondered if Major Hemple had his assistant primed with a list of questions so he didn’t have to look too inquisitive himself. It seemed out of character for the underling to be putting himself forward before his boss.

“Vic is fine. There’s no need for pointless formality. We’re not ambassadors.”

“Tony then if you will,” the aide agreed.

“I have a ranch but most people think cattle when they think ranch. I ran some cattle for years but got out of that well before The Day.”

“I’m not sure what The Day means locally. I could hear the capitalization,” Tony said.

“Everything here in California, the condition we find ourselves in, stem from the Spacers bombarding down south. Now, we don’t have a lot of facts about the matter, and the news reports both foreign and domestic contradict each other, but we know they bombarded somewhere on the southern California coast. That took down all kinds of critical infrastructure. A lot of the people in the county are refugees from that. There are quite a few vacation homes and cabins occupied by whoever had the means and the grit to get here. My wife was one of those. Her family walked here and had to set a camp and winter over before they made it to her grandfather’s place.”

“She must be . . . resourceful,” Tony said after thinking about it.

“You wouldn’t believe the half of it,” Vic said. “Most of the folks here have been proofed in adversity. The weaklings sat in LA and San Francisco and died waiting for someone to save them. Even among those with sense enough to flee, most got as far as a tank of gas or a charge would take them and not much further.”

“I can tell you with certainty what happened,” Major Hemple said. “The North Americans fired on a Spacer shuttle out over the Pacific and the pilot’s life partner warned them to stop or she’d stop them. She released their conversation. You can find it on European sites, but it’s hard to find from North America. The military told the traffic controllers not to forward every call from a child with a pocket phone. I heard your wife is quite young. I believe this young lady is of a similar age.”

“Oh crap. I can imagine if somebody spoke to my Eileen like that.”

“Yes, she very systematically stripped the North Americans’ preeminent missile defense site at Vandenberg of its own close-in defenses with hundreds of Rods from God and a whole salvo of small kiloton range weapons. Then she laid a weapon on it that left most of the county at a slightly lower altitude.”

“As in a honking big crater?” Vic asked.

“No, it was an airburst so there is just a shallow melt-crater a few kilometers across where the fireball touched the ground and a huge area pushed down about a half meter. We’ve overflown it with surveillance aircraft. It left the base and surrounding area pretty much a parking lot with a few low mounds marking where major structures used to be. Our people aren’t sure what the yield was but somewhere between a quarter and a half gigaton. Big enough there was damage in neighboring counties from the splash of debris.”

“California was a patchwork of obsolete power and water systems,” Vic said. “No wonder it was a cascading failure from that much damage.”

“Yes, we pretty much saw it as a self-goal,” Hemple agreed. “Properly protected systems should have disengaged and limited the damage to a hundred kilometers at most.”

“Sir!” Hemple’s Sargeant appeared at the door, “We have some rather heavily armed men approaching. We are not impeding or questioning them per your orders, but may I respectfully request I put two troopers with you until we know their intentions?”

“Mr. Mast, do you mind? My detail is very protective.”

“It’s probably just Arlo and his boys come for the talk-talk, but their caution is exemplary. Just put them behind you out of the way and we’ll pay them no mind.”

Hemple just nodded at his Sargeant and the man looked relieved. He stood aside and said, “Wilson, Rodriquez, at the wall behind the Major and be quiet as mice.” He left without giving them any more instruction than that.

The troopers weren’t all geared up with helmets and heavy armor but each had a rifle kept dutifully pointed at the floor and quickly took station behind Hemple.

They heard horses through the open door and then Arlo Ritter appeared. He was in a long leather duster open to jeans and a brace of pistols on a heavy belt worn cross draw. He looked every bit the cowboy but not particularly heavily armed. The pair behind him from the coast, Mark, and Ken were much more alarming. They were in full battle rattle with ballistic helmets, mounting night vision gear, cams pushed up in the front, and full magazine carriers over their armor. They had both rifles and a break-open grenade launcher hanging off webbing in the front. A bandolier of color-coded fat grenade rounds of at least three different types made them look very well equipped.

Ted Foster, the fellow who ran the local radio net brought up the rear. He was the only one who was by all appearances unarmed but had had electronics hung on a belt and a boom mic by his mouth. He looked over the room and clicked a switch by his ear twice, to send a message to someone.

Mast waved them to open seats but Mark and Ken took up station behind Arlo just like Hemple’s security. “Lunch is being prepared,” Mast assured them.

“May I record?” Ted Foster inquired politely.

“That’s fine with me,” Mr. Mast said as the householder. “Anybody object?” He looked around and got no complaints before he systematically went through introductions. Vic carefully noted the presumed rank in the order of the introductions.

“And what does each of you do for the community?” Hemple asked very politely.

Mast answered and nobody objected to him describing them. That established his role as their organizer. “Ted here provides us radio communications and is turning his community into a manufacturing center. Arlo has been contracting site security to people like Ted and me. People with assets like my fair site, horse farms, or fields with crops. If we can get organized for an election, we hope to have Arlo as sheriff and those he’s been using like Mark and Ken here as deputies. This can’t happen overnight. We’ll have to announce an election in the spring festival and let folks know the vote will go down in the fall. Do you think your Texans will have the patience to let all that work itself out?”

“I can say with certainty that in the areas we’ve annexed there are still areas without the full range of authorities or services at the county and city level. Those organizing it would be delighted to have locals with a plan to do so. The problem areas have been where the local governments survived intact and don’t intend to work with the Republic. In places with that sort of political machine the locals are usually delighted to see a change of administration.”

“Mr. Foy brought up an interesting point earlier,” Major Hemple said. “There may be those not in local government but sworn to North America itself, who find themselves in conflict to remain on Texan territory.”

“I might address that if you gentlemen don’t mind,” Mark spoke up from behind Arlo.

“Please do,” Hemple asked.

“Ken and I came in from the coast. We were in the service of North America and tried to follow crazy and conflicting orders until we lost communication with our superiors. There was no rescue or aid until we had to abandon our post and see to our survival. Every effort was put forth to extract those in the Federal government, banking, and high-tech industry. When that was done as much as it could be accomplished, we were abandoned in place. I don’t owe any oath to those who have foresworn their obligations to us. I’d have no trouble being an officer of a Texan county. For that matter, I’d have no trouble assuming Texan citizenship or joining your military service.”

“The process in other areas has been to respect private property and assume you are joining Texas if you don’t vote with your feet,” Hemple said. “We gave free passage and documents to those who wanted to leave. We didn’t even disarm them because traveling can be hazardous in a war zone. I thought your gear looked North American, but can’t see where your insignia was removed. I also don’t recognize those grenade launchers at all. What are they? Israeli?”

That amused Ted. “I’m complimented. They are our local manufacture but I understand Israeli gear is top shelf. I’m pleased they look that good to you.”

“I’d love to see one demonstrated if you could later,” Hemple said.

Vic silently wondered if he thought they might be stage props to bluff him.

“The situation is stable here. I don’t need these two for security,” Arlo said. “Why don’t we go back out on the porch? Ken can demo the launcher and I’ll release these two to drop their gear. I smell lunch cooking so it must be near ready.”

“I’m running out of rooms, but you two can have the green room at the end of the upstairs hall if you don’t mind sharing,” Mast offered. “Let Ken show us how they shoot and you can pile your gear there and come back down to lunch.”

“You two can report back to Sergeant Watkins that you are no longer needed and are free for whatever other duty he has for you,” Major Hemple told his guards.

They all walked out and Arlo invited Hemple, “Pick a target.”

“How about that sign straight across the road?” he asked. It was about a meter and a half wide and a meter high at head level on two posts. “What does that say?”

“It says it’s free to set up on that side of the road for our fairs or to see me to pay for an assigned sales site on this side,” Mast said. “It has some rules about using the outhouses and picking up your trash.”

Ken flipped his optics down off his helmet.

“That’s two hundred eleven meters distant and a three-meter drop,” Ken said. “HE?” he asked Arlo, pulling a round with a blue band from his bandolier.”

“No explosives!” Mast said before Arlo could. “That sign took a lot of work. Cut lumber and paint is expensive now.”

“A smoke round then?” Ken asked, shoving the first round back in its loop.

Both Mast and his boss nodded in agreement.

Ken shoved a red-banded round in the breach, snapped it shut, and raised a sight on the top of the barrel before he took aim. He didn’t take a fussy long time to sight on it and only had it tilted up about fifteen degrees. The launcher shoved him back with considerable authority and a deep >Poom<.

The projectile passed right through the middle of the sign, splintered boards flying every which way, leaving the upright posts and a few slivers of boards hanging on the nails. It hit the ground beyond and rolled to a stop belching red smoke.

“Oops,” Ken said.

“We’ll fix it before we leave,” Arlo promised.

“Don’t worry about it. You left me the posts and that was the hardest part,” Mast allowed. “It was worth the show.”

And worth the look on Hemple’s face . Vic thought.

“Let’s wash up and see what they cooked for us,” Mast said, turning back inside.

* * *

“I’ll put us at right angles to you with the airlocks about three meters apart. Then Barak will toss a padded weight across with a hand line across. You can secure that on an eye outside the lock,” Deloris said. “Please leave your attitude controls off and let the Chariot maintain position so the systems don’t work against each other.”

April wanted to say they didn’t have to bother doing that for her but bit her tongue. A three-meter gap wasn’t hard to jump across unless you were blind and crippled. She knew her grandfather, who trained Barak, wouldn’t agree. If anything, he’d ask why they couldn’t close to a half meter so you could reach out and clasp hands to be pulled across. Maybe they should alter the locks to be able to dock against each other. It would be a very bad precedent for her to degrade any safety measures. Deloris might request it be phrased as an order and logged. In the distant future, someone might use it to justify taking an incredibly stupid risk and cite her command decision. People did things like that.

Since Barak was qualified to command, April formally told him, “Your ship,” When he came across. “My ship,” he said out loud for the record. Deloris would do the same when she reached the Chariot . They didn’t need a change of command ceremony given how commonly it would occur.

“No offense but I’d like Jeff to take us down,” April told Johnson. “He has a lot more lander hours.”

“Not a problem,” Johnson said. “I’m not sensitive and I’d like to get down in one piece. I’m just happy to log the super-luminal hours.”

Aboard Dionysus’ Chariot Barak passed command to Deloris. She was far more experienced than him and he’d taken the hand-off as a formality. The weight of command was something he was happy to yield after ten minutes.

Jeff did a high-g approach to conserve mass and let the radar and autopilot finish the landing with his hands over the controls ready to intervene if there was a problem.

“Down,” Jeff announced when he had weight readings on all three landing struts. His hands paused just a few heartbeats waiting to see that the Chariot stayed vertical and none of the landing struts slid off a stone or found a soft place to sink. They were better than two degrees from the vertical which was excellent.

“We didn’t raise near as much dust as I’d have expected landing on an Earth desert.”

“Yeah, I noticed that when Deloris landed too,” Johnson said. “Perhaps there is a different pattern of weathering, or the stone composition may be different. Alice seemed to concentrate on rocks. I’ll be sure we get some loose soil samples too.”

April seemed eager to prove her theory that lack of feedback in lunar gravity was the reason her riding skills were . . . erratic. Jeff had his doubts and was visualizing how hard it would be to get her back up to the airlock with a broken arm or a shattered collarbone. Why didn’t they have a light gurney that could be lifted on the swing-out crane? He’d never thought of that before and typed a text reminder to himself to acquire one.

“To be clear, if anything threatens the ship you are to lift even if we can’t make it back,” Jeff told Johnson. “You might recover us by landing again but without preserving the ship we’re all dead.”

Johnson looked dubious. “Give me an example of how that might occur.”

“We know nothing about the weather here,” Jeff said. “If there was a sudden violent wind storm, maybe a sand storm given the lack of ground cover, it might threaten to topple the ship and you’d need to lift until it subsided and you could recover us.”

“OK, we’re clear on that,” Johnson agreed.

April sat on the mule looking entirely too confident and happy for Jeff’s taste.

“You lead off,” he said. “I want to observe from behind and see how you are doing.”

“And know if I crash without constantly checking over your shoulder,” April said.

“Well yeah, but I’m not trying to pick an argument,” Jeff said. “I could stick a window in the corner of my spex and watch your helmet feed. If you flopped, I’d know right away.”

“And I’d know because I’m watching both of you,” Johnson said on com.

April rolled and did wobble a few times, but less than she had on the Moon, Jeff had to admit. She steered around a few rocks with pretty good stability. When she hit a flat open spot with no rocks, she made Jeff’s heart come up in his throat by swerving right and then left. It was quickly apparent it was exuberant testing, not a crash but she hadn’t warned Jeff.

“You see? This is much easier than back home,” April insisted.

“You do seem to be doing well,” Jeff agreed. “Just don’t get cocky.”

“Oh, I saw something. I’m going to circle back,” April said. She made a long slow turn until she looped back to her track in the dirt. Jeff followed silently. When she regained her track, she put her feet down and let them slide on the dirt stabilizing her as she went slowly.

“Here it is. This rock has something growing bright red on it, not beside it. Kind of like lichens on Earth.”

“Or a fungus. Use gloves,” Jeff reminded her.

“Yeah, it might be a super athlete’s foot or something,” April joked.

“Bright colors are a warning on Earth life. It might be poison,” Jeff warned.

She was able to retrieve it and put it in a specimen box without dismounting her mule.

“Now that I’m stopped, I see little spots of it on other rocks but this one caught my eye.”

“Get some soil while you are stopped,” Jeff suggested.

April got a scoop and sample bottle.

“When I picked the dirt up there was something that burrowed back in the dirt in a big hurry,” April said. “It kind of looked like a worm because I didn’t see any legs.”

“There was something in the water and now something in the dirt,” Jeff said. “There are animals but nothing big or very visible.”

“At least not in the day,” April said. “On Earth, a lot of things are nocturnal. “We should set the cameras to record any motion while we sleep.”

“Setting that up,” Johnson agreed on the radio.

They made a short loop into the trees and back the way they’d come. It wasn’t long until they found their tracks again and turned to follow them back to the ship. The sun was in their eyes enough they pulled down their visors. The shadows made the stones easier to see so they didn’t need to slow down.

“I see you,” Johnson reported when they were about a kilometer out.

“Do you want to winch the bikes up or leave them out overnight? Jeff asked.

“Johnson, do you want to take a ride in the morning before we lift?” April asked.

“Yeah, it would be a shame to come all this way and not play tourist a little. We’ve done two rides into the oasis, I’d like to ride the other way out into the desert a little.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jeff volunteered quickly, “if you promise not to ride like you drive a rover. I’m not going to race with you.”

“No problem, I’ll let you lead to set the pace,” Johnson promised.

April didn’t object, which was the result Jeff was hoping for. He’d be a wreck worrying about her trying to impress Johnson.

“Sit a while,” April requested when they pulled up to the Chariot . If we are leaving the bikes out for the morning it doesn’t matter if we stay until dark. I’d like to see the sun go down. The sky is changing color already.”

“It’s a peaceful world,” Jeff observed.

“Maybe a little too peaceful,” April admitted. “We want a safe harbor but I don’t think this ever gets big storms without oceans. I’m not sure if there are active subduction zones so maybe no earthquakes. It’s too risky to land near the mountains with a thermal signature we saw, but I’m betting the volcanoes are milder than Earth too. I’m no geologist but I’d bet big oceans drive more active plate motions.”

“You could be right. I’ll watch for a scary wild planet with belching volcanoes and terrifying storms to excite you as we explore,” Jeff promised. “But I think this is a good place to set up a safe base far enough from Earth to avoid their attention for some time. I’d be happy with a cluster of buildings right here to research the world further and give us a fallback base to explore further away from Earth in this direction.”

“Now that’s an interesting color,” April said of the sunset. There was a halo effect around the setting sun.

“There must be dust or ice in the air,” Jeff concluded.

“Jeff! Look at the tree,” April said.

The nearest tree on a slight rise was displaying bright points of light in the waning light.

“You have better magnification on your hull camera,” Jeff told Johnson. “Can you see what the sparkly stuff is on the tree?”

“No, it’s point sources that don’t resolve,” Johnson said.

“We’ll walk over,” April said and started immediately. Jeff had little choice to follow.

As they approached some of the glints of light launched from the tree. They all went to the east away from the sunset.

“Came at it from the sun side,” Jeff said. “I don’t want whatever those are blowing against us until I know more.”

“We need to get a specimen,” April said getting a collection box out.

Up close it became obvious why they were difficult to see from a distance. The reflection was off a wet sphere as delicate as a soap bubble. The tree was blowing them up on the end of a twig that reached past the last leaves. The surface swirled with colors as if it had a film of oil on it as it blew up, then got clear as it got about the size of a tennis ball. It wasn’t long before it would detach. Some inflated faster than others and just a few didn’t go far before they dropped off and stuck to the ground.

Try not to get them stuck on anything but your gloves,” Jeff cautioned. “They look sticky and we have no idea what cleans them off.”

“They must be seed carriers,” April speculated. “Earth trees transport their seeds through the air with fuzz or little winglets,” she said making a rotary motion with a fingertip.

“It must be tiny like a mustard seed,” Jeff said. “I can’t see it.”

“Either the gas blowing them up is warmer than the air or the tree generates something like hydrogen to give them lift,” Jeff said. “Most of them are rising when they break off.”

‘Methane is lighter than air but the bubble would have to be mighty thin,” Johnson said. “If it’s making hydrogen, a biological process to make hydrogen would be valuable.”

April held a collection box over a bubble in progress. It popped and left a film on the inside when she accidentally touched it to the inside. She sealed that and got another. When the surface of the next bubble was almost clear she tried again. This time it separated and stuck to the side of the box. She sealed that and was pleased to see it didn’t deflate.

“Let me see if the popped one is still sticky,” Jeff requested. “April opened it and held it for him. When he touched a fingertip to the film inside it stuck well enough to pull his glove off when he pulled his hand back.

“It’s like contact adhesive,” Jeff said surprised. He quickly got a new glove. He pushed the dangling glove into the box and sealed it.

April had a manic grin when he looked up at her.

“What? Does that amuse you?” Jeff asked.

“No, no,” April explained. “This is the special thing that was missing for me about this world. It’s different and it’s pretty . “Look up,” she commanded with a wave of her hand.

All through the oasis, the trees were releasing their bubbles and they were a shiny mass slowly climbing off into the sky and streaming slowly east.

Jeff looked up from his task and took in the bigger scene.

“OK, this is pretty neat,” Jeff agreed.

In a few minutes, the last bit of sun disappeared below the horizon and they quickly climbed up the ship in the descending twilight.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 9

Victor thought they might not discuss business at the table but Major Hemple and Mr. Mast didn’t pause at all. Vic just listened and didn’t have much to say while they negotiated. As far as he could see Arlo’s contractors and he were superfluous. Maybe even Arlo. But then he thought about how that would look. The Texan needed to see Mast had solid community support. After coming to that conclusion, he made it a point to nod in agreement occasionally. Ted Foster was similarly reticent. Major Hemple’s close staff stayed out of the discussion. Vic was fairly certain they did so on instructions. They seemed interested to follow the talk.

Major Hemple was candid about the limits of his recommendations to the civilian authorities. Vic valued that more than all sorts of extravagant promises that would disappear when he was long gone.

“You need to supply a sheriff, a county administrator, and maybe some sort of clerk to take sworn affidavits about who holds property and who wishes to claim adverse possession. The Federal representative to the area will work with your administrator. He usually has a clerk or two, a housekeeper, and a federal cop to work with the sheriff. They will have computer access to Texan case law, different agencies, and his cop will put information into the system if you have any fugitives. Eventually, they’ll set up a schedule for a judge to service a circuit. All those things are basic and normal,” Hemple said. “What else do you need or want?”

Vic spoke up. “A post office. Lots of folks have had no contact with relatives and friends for years. Neither the folks here nor the people away have any idea if their kin and friends are even alive. Few of them can afford a satellite phone and those of us who can would do nothing but sit and call for others if we tried to help everybody. The postal service would fill the need until we get normal cell coverage again. We have a small store and lots of traders in used items but with a post office, we could have things delivered from outside. I have arrangements to get things flown in but most people don’t have the means to do that. If we had postal service, we could have lessons delivered for the kids and start up a county library to deliver books to peoples’ homes on request.”

“The Texas Postal Service has a savings passbook service for those who can’t get in the regular banking system,” Hemple said. “It will send and receive money for you anywhere in Texas or Mexico.”

“Wonderful, that would be a big step toward normality,” Mast said.

“I suppose a gas station is an impossible dream?” Arlo asked.

“That would be up to the people who sell it,” Hemple said. “They would need to know the roads were open and clear to get a tanker in. Then, they’d need a station with tanks and electric service. I’d suppose the easiest way to attract them would be to identify an abandoned station of their brand and offer inducements to reopen it.”

“I had more in mind a county garage with gasoline deliveries to our tanks. One hopes there would be some help with supplies at first until we reestablish commerce. A generator on site could use the same fuel.”

“And some vehicles?” Hemple asked. “If this is like other areas there aren’t many cars or trucks still serviceable. They need belts, batteries, and tires in most cases, hoses sometimes and to flush and change the fluids.”

“I think that’s asking a lot,” Arlo said surprising him. “I’d be delighted with just a half dozen dirt bikes. They would serve better until we can keep all the county roads cleared.”

“There are a couple of gas stations over on the state route. If the owners don’t want to put them back in service, we could take one of them by eminent domain as a county garage,” Mr. Mast suggested.

Hemple got a surprised expression.

“That’s good thinking. I know the Federal liaison will have a budget to make grants but I have no idea how extravagant it is. I suspect equipment will be much easier than cash.”

“Speaking of bikes, that’s what that sounds like outside. It has to be one of your people because we didn’t bring any that sound like that.”

“Mr. O’Neil, one of our few retailers with an actual store, has one. That’s probably him. He has very graciously allowed me to borrow it in the past and I managed to destroy the front tire for him. It was difficult and expensive to replace. The roads have so much debris on them you’ll need extra tubes and tires if you get bikes for your force,” Vic warned Arlo.

“We have to carry extra patch kits for our scout cars,” Hemple revealed. “It’s so common to get flats that we swap out a spare and repair them all when we make camp for the night.”

When O’Neil came in, they informed him they were just starting lunch and he should join them. Once he took his riding gear off and washed from the road, Mr. Mast brought him up to speed on the conversation.

“I have no objection to the idea of a post office,” O’Neil said. “People will always pay a little more for convenience. People don’t have the funds to stock up on things before they need them so the kind of things I sell, medicines, sewing notions, and candy, will still sell. I’ll be able to expand my stock to things too heavy and expensive to fly in.”

Lunch was venison fajitas and roasted quail. The green beans were undoubtedly home-canned and local too. He wondered if the Texans would know that the small bowl of imported rice was the biggest luxury item on the table.

* * *

In the morning Jeff and Johnson found their mules had sticky spots from the tree bubbles drifting into them. They deflated, overnight and shrank until the spot was only a couple of centimeters across. They contemplated simply covering them with something they could remove later. April, looking for bandages for that purpose, found a bottle of surgical scrub in the first aid kit. That did an excellent job of dissolving them. It stained the seats but that was better than being glued to them.

“Let’s go upwind,” Johnson suggested. “The other way is probably contaminated with sticky spots from the bubble release. It might make a mess on our tires.”

“OK, then I’ll angle off to the south away from the oasis,” Jeff said and took off. He set a very moderate pace and Johnson didn’t object.

Nothing much caught their eye for several kilometers until a hill ahead looked different. It was well weathered but one side had a fan of scree colored a lighter yellow than the other side. The rock above was darker in spots and bluish in contrast to that below.

They rode right up on the lower part of the slope. It lacked the stones that were everywhere on the flat landscape and had more of the dark appearance they expected of soil. Johnson stopped and kicked at the surface with his boot. Jeff couldn’t see anything of interest but Johnson was smiling and reached down without dismounting.

“Check it out,” Johnson said handing him a tiny stone. It was a dark octahedron, slightly misshapen and rounded but certainly a faceted crystal.

“What is it?” Jeff asked. “Some sort of ore?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s a diamond,” Johnson said. “They are easy enough to grow now but people still value natural ones as gems. Even if there aren’t any of gem quality, they’re useful as abrasives and cheaper than synthetics. This has to be an old weathered volcanic vent.”

Jeff looked thoughtful and pointed off in the distance.

“There’s a whole line of similar hills clear to the horizon. I bet they are all from the same source,” Jeff predicted. “Volcanoes on Earth breakthrough in lines just like these. Let’s see if we can find a few more so everybody has a keepsake.”

They each had a little garden trowel to use as a specimen scoop. It didn’t take long before they had several crystals for each of them, including the crew above. None were particularly transparent but several were somewhat translucent or dark amber-colored.

“Let’s check out the nearest hill in the line and then head back. I’d rather not get too far from the ship this visit. We can be bolder when we have two landers and can mount a rescue if something goes wrong.”

“Amen,” Deloris said from orbit. It was easy to forget they were listening in.

The next hill disappointed them for any diamonds or other exotics. But on the way back they found a clump of rounded burgundy shapes standing alone without needing any shade in which to shelter. It was some sort of plant and Jeff separated one of the smaller blobs at the edge. It bled a little dark red fluid putting it in a sample case, but didn’t have a defensive reaction like the trees.

“I see the ship,” Jeff announced about three hours after they left. “We’ll load the bikes and join you in orbit fairly soon,” Jeff told the Hringhorni. “ I count this a successful first trip. We found out a little about the world with no damage or losses and have specimens to find out what sort of biology the native life has. I’m happy going home with what we got.”

“We have no idea yet how common living worlds are, but we have at least one safe haven away from Earth,” April said. “That’s the big thing I was worried about. If we find better that’s fine but we have one safe harbor.”

“Is that what you want to call it?” Deloris asked. “We were waiting to name it.”

“No, I didn’t mean that as a name. I think your crew should name it. You discovered it after all. “

“I’ll propose a name,” usually quiet Alice offered.

“Tell us,” Deloris said. “Don’t make us drag it out of you.”

“Bubbles,” Alice said a little timidly.

“Works for me,” Barak said.

“Better than anything I’ve got,” Deloris agreed.

“We’ll need to start a registry of named worlds,” Jeff decided.

“One hopes,” Deloris said. “If we’re going to be filthy rich, that we’ll have a huge collection in which we own an interest.”

* * *

Heather was eating her oatmeal and contemplating a busy day when her house computer chimed. It was the news alert tone, not a personal communication.

“What are the keywords on the story, House?” she demanded.

“Texas, orbital, and military,” it replied.

“Run it for me,” Heather agreed.

Cuban News Agency (translated)

The Republic of Texas last night reported the resumption of orbital operations launched from their territory. The manned shuttle Elisha Pease lifted with a crew of two and cargo to rendezvous with the Australian manufacturing satellite Victoria. This was a commercial launch by Carbon Exotics Corporation, unconnected to the Texas military. Texas has not conducted a manned military launch since the formal declaration of the Republic. The flight path crossed no other country’s territory until it passed over Florida having attained orbital elevation if not its eventual insertion velocity. The launch significantly raised the depressed CE stock price on the Houston exchange,   Deutsche Börse, and TSE/TYO.

The Republic used this occasion to introduce its new Civilian Space Agency to the world. The new agency will operate at a Circle of Advisors to the President level.

“And if you don’t think they can do a military launch, I have a nice wet dock for your yacht on the Mare of Tranquility I’d like to sell you,” Heather said aloud.

“Do you wish to record or forward that statement?” the House asked.

“No, null message, House,” Heather said.

* * *

Vic woke early but both Mr. Mast and his cook, Elena, were up and active. Tiersa, her daughter was doing prep work in the kitchen and Mr. Mast was at the closest seat to the open kitchen door sipping tea. The other guests and the military contingent were still absent.

Elena brought him tea without asking. It was local stuff but had a sharp bite. If it didn’t have caffeine, it was an excellent placebo.

“You’ve slept on them. What do you think of Hemple’s proposals?” Mast asked.

Vic lifted an eyebrow and looked around the room.

“What? Do you think he has Elena employed as a spy this quickly?”

“Don’t I wish?” Elena called from the other room. “I bet he pays good cash money.”

“They have access to all the tech we’re missing,” Vic reminded him. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he dropped a few bugs off in the room and maybe in your library.”

“That would only matter if I gave a damn what he hears,” Mast said.

“That goes in my report too,” Elena warned.

“You can make up better gossip than that,” Mast said. “I’ve heard you talk with the church ladies about people while you cook.”

“That was in Spanish. You can’t speak it for anything. I know. I’ve heard you try.

“Es tan dificil para contratar buena ayuda,” Mast said.

“It’s a good thing I’d have to poison Victor to get you too. I like him,” Elena said.

“What do you think of Major Hemple and a Texan takeover?” Vic asked her. “Can you hear everything OK from the kitchen?”

“You bailed out and went to the library,” Elena reminded him. “I don’t care if we are Norte Americanos or Texans. I’m not a big landowner and I’m going to be in the kitchen cooking no matter how they draw the lines on a map. I haven’t got anything worth stealing and can walk away from what little I have. I heard all kinds of ideas but I didn’t hear any hard promises. Did he get down to making guarantees when you got over in the library? Did he put anything in writing?”

“No, he didn’t, I’d be delighted if half of what he considered possible happens when the actual civilian authorities arrive here,” Mast said.

“I hope they do for your sake,” Elena said. “If they take everything and turn you out, I can always use a good sous chef. These Texans will want some home cooking after they take over and there will be plenty of work for a good cook. How much longer am I going to be cooking for this bunch we have now?”

“Just breakfast and then they are packing up and moving over to the next county,” Mast said. “They’ll give you a lift home on the way,” he told Vic.

“Are they informed Stewart has ambitions to be sheriff over there?” Vic asked.

“They had his name even before I mentioned him,” Mast said. “What they need over there is a central event like our fairs to give folks more reason to travel to vote. Hemple didn’t have any ideas on encouraging that, but maybe his follow-on advisors will sponsor something. That’s their problem. We get so few traders willing to come this far we wouldn’t be missing much if they have their own fair and stop coming. We might lose the salt traders, but it sounds like we’ll have commercial salt from outside soon enough.”

“You want breakfast before the crowd arrives?” Elena asked. “The grill is hot. I have shell eggs and can fry onions and potatoes,” she suggested.

“Please, and do the eggs over very easy on top of the potatoes,” Vic requested.

“Please,” and being polite, got him a third egg without asking.

* * *

Nick Naito called his Commerce counterpart in Texas openly. Since business was his legitimate concern, no need to hide it with third-party contacts. He was prepared to defend his initiative to anyone in his government who objected.

“Secretary Winslow, thank you for taking my call. This is just a heads-up. I’m sending a written proposal. The gist of what it contains is that now that we see Texas is resuming commercial space operations, we are inviting you to use Hawaiian launch facilities if it should prove convenient.”

“I’m not sure how that would work since we haven’t even exchanged ambassadors or put embassies in place,” Winslow said cautiously.

“I’ll leave that for the heads of state and their managers of political concerns,” Naito said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “We deal with the realities of trade. I am assured you have significant trade with Mexico and you haven’t exchanged ambassadors. I appreciate the situation with them is delicate being in transition but we’re fully independent. There is no reason to fear the North American reaction to trading with us.”

A mask of irritation slid over Winslow’s face when Naito said: “Fear.”

“I fear we may not have items to trade that each other needs,” Winslow said. Which was no denial of fearing North America but he was trying hard to make it sound that way.

Naito just shrugged. “If not, we’ve had some success as a transshipment point. We’ve had parties who couldn’t entirely trust each other use us as neutral ground to hand over multi-ton shipments of gold.”

“Really?” Winslow said. That was interesting enough he forgot to be offended for a moment. “I wasn’t aware there was that much gold moving around.”

“I’m not at liberty to reveal the participants,” Naito said, “but it was lifted off-planet.”

“I’ll look at your proposal when it hits my desk,” Winslow said neutrally.

“That’s all I’d ask,” Naito said. To him, that was just a nibble. Not yet time to try setting the hook until Winslow found an advantage for his side.

* * *

Heather received Chen at her residence with April and Jeff present. She tried to make him comfortable but he was visibly stressed.

“This is the sort of report I hate making,” Chen told them.

“It’s been a long time since you asked to visit to sit and discuss something,” April said. “You usually just drop it on us in com. What’s different this time that you’d go to the trouble to come to the Moon and not even wait for us to return to Home?”

“It’s a negative report. We know something is happening but we don’t know what. It’s like seeing a hole in radar coverage. You can infer some kind of stealth aircraft is there but you don’t know what sort or how big. It may even be a flight of two or three and it may be loitering so you don’t even have any idea which direction they will eventually follow or how fast. It isn’t very useful except to tell you that you should be prepared to be surprised.”

“What is your hole?” Jeff asked.

“Much of the North American government is simply disappearing. We have always depended on satellite data to know where North American assets resided. The government has always lagged industry in decentralizing. Part of it is legacy systems. The government owns a huge inventory of overpriced real estate. They were built with no price restraints and the buildings aren’t easily suitable to sell off for commercial use. Some are designated as historic and can’t be modified or torn down. The model of a Federal building full of agency offices is so firmly ensconced that they will sacrifice efficiency to utilize the office space. They force their workers to commute to a central location and then turn around and drive back to where they perform their duties. That also damages their ability to recruit because younger workers see that as an actual lifestyle they associate with hide-bound failing industries.

“All of that was good for our intelligence gathering. We had a central gathering place where we could identify agents and support personnel. We could target the building for advanced electronic interception or physically insert bugs. We could follow the workers leaving to determine their residence and sometimes what sort of cases they were working.”

“Are they closing up those offices then?” April asked.

“No. I suspect that would stir up local opposition. They do pump a lot of money into the local economy. They are retaining a front desk person and one lower-tier administrator. That lets them say the office is still open. The cost of maintaining the building goes down sharply. I’d assume they will drop or lower their expenses on things like janitorial services. Utilities will be sharply lower. We already know their electricity use is much lower.”

“How do you know that?” Jeff asked. “Did you hack into their billing?”

“You can remotely read the temperature of their transformer. The heating and cooling cycles are very dependable and weekends and holidays give you base rates.

“I think they will eventually liquidate the real estate. But slowly enough to keep city and county governments happy. When they do off-load them, they can promote it to the locals as enhancing the tax base. There isn’t a market for office space since there was already a surplus from private industry. These buildings were often over-built to higher than normal specs as offices. However, that would make them desirable to convert to luxury apartments or condos. The economy down there goes in cycles and it’s due for an expansion that would create the sort of buyers who’d support that.”

“But you already know where all the active agents and executives live, right?” Heather inquired. “You’d just need to find some way to discover who the new hires are from the normal turnover.”

“Normally, yes. However, there has been a tremendous turnover of the upper tier in these agencies buying new homes. Significantly larger and more up-to-date new homes. We have no way to prove it because most of the budget isn’t public anymore but I think they are subsidizing these moves.”

“Can you watch public land records?” April suggested.

“They’ve taken the county-level land files off public access. You have to show you have an interest such as holding the mortgage or a contract to sell the house before they will release the information to you. That goes back to our manner of surveillance. We could work around that limited access if we had a vast crowd of human agents to operate at a county level. We could get people into positions with access to the databases. But this is probably too big for even the larger countries to track by human intel.

“Once we saw empty parking lots and utility use drop off it wasn’t hard to insert agents a few places with legitimate business appointments to confirm what we were seeing was accurate. Checking all of them is beyond our resources but we ran spot checks. Jan still has enough contacts in Europe and North America for that.

“We’re doing a role reversal here. I like to wait until I have a handle on the why of changes before I tell you they are happening. Jan is usually the one to feed you interesting data points without interpretation. But he opted out of reporting this without some better analysis. I thought it was such a large change that you should know even if I can’t suggest possible reasons. It’s such a sea change it’s not going away. I don’t see us developing a better understanding soon.”

“Are they hiding their activity on the military side of things?” Jeff asked.

“Space-related things to a degree. But the other services haven’t stood down or hidden at all. They rather seem to be stepping up their readiness.”

“In fairness, we have said in the past we didn’t care what they did down there ,” April said. “Our actions agreed with that stance too. That was even before Texas broke away. Nobody was as big a threat to North America before them. Now they have pretty much cut the North off from Mexico and the Mexicans seem headed for independence too.”

“Yes, things do change down below and both my and Jan’s contacts and knowledge degrade slowly. I hope we can recruit senior people before we aren’t still well enough connected to be of any help to you,” Chen said.

“You will still know the mindset and be able to analyze how they think and react for years. We don’t expect to be here forever,” Heather reminded him.

“Yes, I read your summary about exploring that world for your retreat,” Chen said.

“That’s one. We will continue to look for others,” Heather assured him.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 10

“You can drop me off at the bottom of my driveway,” Vic told his driver.

“No sir. I was told to give you the VIP treatment and you don’t ask a nicely dressed gentleman to haul his baggage up a muddy driveway,” the driver insisted. “I’ll catch up to the column easily. If I just dropped you off, I’d expect a reprimand.”

“Thanks, don’t break your neck catching up,” Vic counseled him. “This area hasn’t seen any bandits this season and a random outlaw or two wouldn’t mess with a straggler anyway. They’d be happy the main force passed them by and not want to do anything to make them double back looking for someone. That doesn’t mean I’d stop for anyone trying to flag you down.”

“Not much chance of that,” the fellow said. “Unless it’s heavily wooded, I can go off-road to bypass them in this baby.”

“Indeed. I have a 4-wheel drive truck that’s nearly as capable. I’ve put it up on stands and done everything I can to keep it ready to return to service. The hardest part long-term is keeping the rodents from chewing on the wiring. I’ve emptied a good dozen of the damn things from traps I’ve set.”

“We have a hard time keeping them out of our field rations,” the driver revealed. “They’ll chew through fairly thick plastic cartons. Let me come around and take your bag,” he insisted at Vic’s front door, “so I can say I followed my orders to the letter.”

He did so but didn’t presume to carry it inside. He politely nodded to acknowledge Eileen and Alice waiting on the porch and quickly drove away.

“Well, he didn’t lie on the dirt to let you reach the steps without soiling your boots,” Eileen noted.

“They have been most solicitous,” Vic admitted. “We can only hope the civilian administrators who follow on will be half as accommodating.”

“So, a Texan takeover is a done deal?” Eileen asked.

“Yes, nobody seriously suggested fighting them. It never came up. But I’m still glad Arlo’s boys showed up in full battle rattle with impressive weaponry. They didn’t look like the TV image of rural deputies. They made the Major’s personal security very nervous. If they communicate the situation on the ground to the incoming team, maybe they will tell them not to push this bunch of locals too hard.”

“Or send extra security so the officials don’t disappear?” Eileen suggested.

“Being around me has made you cynical,” Vic objected.

“I was already cynical and being around you just hardened it,” Eileen said. “What does a Texan takeover mean for us? Not Mr. Mast or any of the county government he wants to put in place. You didn’t get suckered into taking an official position, did you?”

“Now that’s a thought,” Vic mused. “Why keep struggling to make an honest living?”

That didn’t amuse Eileen at all.

“No dear. Nobody offered me a job,” Vic added quickly, “but you mentioning it made me think I better be prepared what to say, if the civilians coming in try to recruit me.”

“That means you’d turn them down I hope?”

“Yes, why get invested that deeply in the local politics if we’re planning on leaving? It would just make it harder to leave when we decide it’s time. We can support Mr. Mast’s agenda short of that. He’s no dummy. I may have been there as a token citizen with no special interest in seeking a government position.”

“To show he has popular support?”

“Exactly. I think the biggest news for us is that the Texans allow private contracts to be settled in gold. We can use ours or sell it to refiners for currency. It lets us keep panning and accumulating it knowing we’ll be able to legally use it to travel.”

“That’s wonderful. We can try to put more effort into mining,” Eileen said.

“I’m glad it’s the Texans, not the Mexicans,” Alice volunteered.

“Why?” Vic wondered. Surprised she even had an opinion.

“I remember the TV news about Mexico. Even though I was a little kid it was obvious things were always a mess down there. Almost every evening it was about drugs and shootings and corruption. The kind of stuff that doesn’t just suddenly change. You may be leaving, but I’m going to live here,” Alice reminded them.

“Maybe you should hit Mast up for a county job,” Vic teased.

“Maybe I will. They’ll need clericals or dispatch and there’s not a lot of overeducated locals available to bump me out of the job market. It would go along with what I see as my best path forward right now.”

“I had no idea you were planning so far ahead,” Vic said. “Do you want to enlighten me about what you have mapped out for your future?”

“I’d like to buy this place from you when you leave. I can add my gold to what you two pan to get your lift fee. If that’s not enough I could make payments the same way. I think that owning the ranch would make me a better catch. I saw how Titus looked at me. If he doesn’t blow himself up carrying explosives around, I think he’ll find reasons to come back and visit. I’m not going to discourage him. He’s not bad-looking and seems headed for a decent job. If he doesn’t blow himself up, then he must not be too stupid either.”

“You’re much too young to be thinking of marriage,” Vic protested blushing.

“Like Eileen was much too young when you kept coming around her grandfather’s place?” Alice asked.

“She’s got you there,” Eileen said. “By the time she can buy us out, or Titus has his deputy job, she’ll be plenty old enough. When Titus said, ‘A dangerous girl,’ and got a silly grin, I knew he was smitten.”

“Whatever,” Vic stammered. “It’s not like we have an actual say once the women decide.”

“I’m glad you know it,” Eileen agreed.

* * *

“Our exploration crew has found another world off in the same quadrant that may be habitable. It has life and free oxygen but of course, the native life may be inimical to us and a hazard rather than beneficial,” Jeff said. “Deloris is begging us on behalf of all three of them to build another lander.”

“We need to. There’s never enough money or competent people to do everything we want but there’s no denying it’s a major safety issue,” Heather said. “If we keep on landing without a rescue vessel, we’ll eventually lose a crew and a ship.”

“Make it a big hull and don’t over-invest in specialized equipment,” Jeff said. “Have big holds we can use to haul bulk materials and lots of sockets and recessed utility boxes to divide them up into decks or cabins if we want to.”

“What would we haul that’s that so much volume?” Heather asked.

“If we find rich deposits of non-precious metals. We’re always short of them and can sell any we don’t need on the Earth market without the danger of depressing prices. You don’t get near as much copper as we need from separating regolith, do you?”

“No, nor silver or other elements that we don’t need much but get almost zero locally. It’s a rather long list,” Heather admitted.

“If it’s high-grade ore we can just dump it in piles on the lunar surface and refine it in batches,” Jeff said. “We don’t have the people to set up mines and refineries with support people at each location. We can have one set of ball mills and furnaces adaptable to each process.”

“We don’t have to build all the decking and scaffolding to transform the holds at first,” April suggested. “Just build a sample piece to check for fit and to validate the fabber instructions so we’re ready to make them if we have a sudden need. If there’s ever such a thing as excess fabber hours we can run off some as standby jobs.”

“I suspect we’ll find easier sources to mine in trashy systems with heavy debris discs,” Heather said. “It will give our explorers something else to look for besides sanctuary worlds with usable real estate, and a more immediate source of income for us all.”

“Can you get Mo started on it?” Jeff asked.

Heather shook her head no.

“I’m already asking too much of Mo. I’ll tell him what we want and let him pick one of the promising young men he supervises to run the project with only occasional reports and checking of how it is going from Mo.”

“Humor me,” April requested. “Call it the Behemoth Project.”

“Done,” Heather agreed once she saw the slight smile on Jeff’s face.

* * *

“Tomorrow is supposed to be above freezing and sunshine all day long,” Vic announced after consulting the satellite phone. I’d like to spend the day mining. I’ve been thinking about it and I want to find a place to hide our gear so we don’t have to haul it back and forth every weekend.”

“Could you afford to have Mr. DeWitt fly you some fiberglass cloth and cans of resin in from Nevada?” Alice asked.

“Yes,” Vic said with a slightly quizzical expression. He didn’t see the connection.

“Have him get enough to cover an area about like the living room rug and some for the sides,” Alice said making a shape in the air with her hands. “You can make a fake boulder with it and paint it to look like others up there. Have bumps and ridges in it like a real one. While it’s still wet, throw a little sand and gravel on it like is always on a real one. Then, we’ll dig a hole in the hillside to fit all your stuff in, high enough to be above any flooding, and fit the fake rock over to hide it.”

“That’s brilliant,” Vic admitted. “I have some rough scrap plywood in the barn I almost threw away. I can use it for a big flat shape and other scraps to make bulges and steps on top to do a lay-up. Whatever gave you that idea?”

“When we lived in the city, back before The Day, my parents kept a fake plastic rock in the landscaping with a key in case any of us got locked out.”

“Thank you, that will save us all a lot of work,” Vic said. “I always worried somebody would see us leaving and it’s kind of obvious what my sluice or shaker board is, even from a distance. It will improve our secrecy too.”

“Is that why you never pan right here by the house?” Alice asked.

“No, I tried panning here clear back when I wasn’t much older than you,” Vic remembered. “There just isn’t as much gold here as upstream. That one drop-off we climb around had good panning at the base of it and above it has been decent.”

“How far above have you explored?” Alice wondered.

“Only a couple hundred meters. It produces well and to go further I’d spend so much time hiking I’d have less time I have to work. Especially hauling all my gear.”

“Well once we have a base there with our stuff, I’m going to hike upstream another kilometer or so and see if it is any richer,” Alice decided.

“Knock yourself out,” Vic invited. “If the area yields better enough to make it worth walking further, we’ll be better able to consider doing that, not carrying everything.”

Alice nodded to affirm it was a plan.

* * *

“I’ve no idea why, but there is a wide range of diplomatic chaos happening. Jan doesn’t know either. All his contacts swear they have no idea what’s happening. I’ve never seen him so visibly worried,” Chen said.

“Tell us more, do. What’s so chaotic?” Jeff asked for all three of them.

“Japan recalled their ambassadors to North America and Australia but it wasn’t reciprocated. North America kicked out the Australians. Then the Australians kicked out the North Americans. Not just a few. They emptied their embassy. Then the Tongans and the Australians parted ways. It doesn’t make any sense and the timeline doesn’t work. They haven’t made public complaints against each other or put new sanctions or tariffs in place so it’s purely political not economic.

“The news people are going nuts speculating. They don’t seem to be getting the usual level of direction on what to say because you can switch from one to the next and the stories aren’t all the same. But they have to attribute it to something to look knowledgeable.

“The Europeans are involved to a lesser degree. That helps explain Jan’s lack of information. But there should still be some chatter. For example, France called a whole bunch of their people home from multiple embassies and replaced them with no explanation about why. All this is happening with no press releases. Normally they issue all sorts of public statements justifying their behavior and accusing the other side of spying.

“The North Americans and Australians seem to be pulling their corporate people back home. Quietly using business back channels instead of government travel warnings to repatriate their people home. Enough of them that other ex-pats are picking up on it or being clued in by friends and seeking friendly borders themselves. You can see it by following the occupied seats on flights. We have counters who watch the actual boardings, and the arrival and departure screens at the hubs, not what they publish later.”

“Isn’t that expensive? I thought you had limited human intel down there,” Jeff said.

“The people who do that for us aren’t real intelligence people and they aren’t aware for whom they are ultimately working. They’re more like the readers who go in stores and check the price the competition is charging for things. Even in retail the shelf price isn’t the online price or isn’t kept up to date. This isn’t expensive, it’s profitable, and we were doing it long before this current crisis. We have all sorts of buyers for the information other than you or our use. The airlines check each other, the government checks against company financial reports that they are meeting regulations and mandates, the various companies who contract for travel, and third-party sellers check that they are getting real discounts and not having seats withheld they could sell. Nobody trusts anybody else.”

“With good reason?” April asked.

“Yes, they pad some numbers and under-report others in normal times,” Chen agreed. “If we didn’t catch some significant discrepancies for them, it wouldn’t be long before they’d unsubscribe from our services. Right now, the seesaw shifts in personnel are making it hard to keep seats filled both ways. They are upsetting people with price increases to cover it. But you have to double the fare if you have empty seats going one way very long. Nobody is happy about that. I imagine there are all sorts of other disruptions. People yanked home who just arrived and signed leases and settled in. We aren’t tracking those sorts of things.”

“As leaky as some agencies and businesses are, you aren’t getting any gossip and rumor about why this is happening?” Heather asked.

“No, they’re keeping a tight lid on it. So tight they must not be telling their people why they are being moved, except at the highest levels.”

“Thank you, Chen. At least when we do figure it out, we’ll be able to fit it to a timeline,” Jeff told him. “It’s building up to something, don’t you agree?”

“Certainly, but what and how far in the future is just guessing right now.”

* * *

The com gave an urgent signal. When Heather answered there were windows for Jeff and for April, but April hadn’t answered yet.

“They pulled one on us,” Chen announced, shame-faced.

“It can’t be that bad if there aren’t troops in our tunnels,” Heather said.

“Nearly as bad,” Chen insisted. “They have dispersed their troops and more importantly their heavy weapons. Some are well hidden, but others are just divided into such small groups that they don’t make much of a target. Someone planned this well.”

“That doesn’t seem especially aggressive towards us. We never intended to destroy their tanks and field artillery. It’s not as if they are going to lift them to the Moon to assault us,” Heather said.

“And yet they seem to be urgently protecting them,” Chen said. “From whom? If some other Earth power is threatening them, I can’t see it. Certainly, China is fragmented and none of the resultant states is any strategic match for North America. They are busy contending with each other. Russia is beset internally by much the same problems Europe is suffering. That leaves only India right now with the population and assets that might be threatening to anyone and they haven’t even taken advantage of the Chinese confusion to expand across that border.”

“How long have they been at this?” Jeff asked. April joined him with wet hair so Chen did something to his board and made April’s window go away.

“Just two days but they’ve made amazing progress. Some things like mobile missile launchers have just vanished. There was a definite well-thought-out order of priorities to it. I don’t think they have been digging tunnels. That takes years and it’s difficult to hide all the rubble it creates. My best guess is they have been buying up or leasing commercial space. Some things, like tanks, they have moved to prepared places like factory parking lots. They usually have excess room and can put a half dozen tanks, armored fighting vehicles, or APCs off in the corners with a hastily erected fence and tarp. Besides dividing them into a lot of smaller targets, it uses civilian structures and civilians as hostages to a strike. Hitting so many small targets in mostly urban areas will generate casualties and civilian damage. That isn’t right, but at least they’ve had the decency not to place them by hospitals and schools.

“I confess we had several strange conversations intercepted in the last week that hinted at this. One was in a DoD hallway. They’ve gotten too good at finding the current generation of bug bots to get them in meeting rooms and executive offices. The other was between staffers in an outdoor restaurant. We simply didn’t interpret them correctly. They moved on it before we could gather confirming intelligence. It’s unusual for them to move so fast.”

“There is always a workaround,” April insisted. “They can’t hide oil refineries or pipelines. If I destroy those how long will their stocks of fuel last for that armor?”

“Not very long at all.” Chen agreed. “The impact on the civilian population would be even more severe. It might be kinder just to go ahead and target them directly rather than kill them by cold and starvation.”

“Maybe they shouldn’t allow psychopaths to govern them,” Heather suggested.

* * *

“Up there between those two boulders looks like a good spot,” Alice suggested. “It’s about two meters above the flats so it shouldn’t flood. If it ever does, it’s on the lee side of the ridge and the rocks on each side should keep anything from being swept away. Measure it and we can build a fake rock that will look just like it slid down the hillside with the other two. It isn’t loose soil below them, so we won’t make a visible path using it.”

“What’s this we stuff?” Vic asked. “I’m going to have to dig the hole and lay up the glass for the cover. Next visit that is. I’ll measure it but I’m not going to dig a big hole until you go sample upstream. Then I’d end up digging a second hole up there somewhere if it, as they say, pans out. I’ll just do our regular mining today.”

“OK, I’m going to do at least three thousand steps upstream, maybe a little more if it’s easy going along the flats and see what kind of color I can find,” Alice said.

Vic and Eileen just nodded. That was the plan and they were already setting up.

The sun was shifted from one side of the creek to the other when Alice finally returned.

Her face told Vic everything he needed to know but he asked how it went anyway.

“It was a total bust,” Alice admitted. “I dug around all the right places just like you taught me and have five tiny flakes and a few speckles to show for it.”

“Victor, doesn’t that suggest there is a source of gold between here and up there,” Eileen said, waving her hand in a generally upstream direction.

Using his full name was a way to get Vic’s attention, but was unneeded this time.

Vic thought about it and just nodded in agreement. It was Alice who looked shocked and said, “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Too late to test it out today.” Vic pointed out. “Next time, we’ll spread out and each do test sites to see if we can localize it.”

Alice looked back upstream and was visibly distressed.

“We don’t have camping gear and it will still get pretty cold tonight,” Vic said, reading her distress. “You don’t want us to try to walk home in the dark with just the one small flashlight I brought. The gold is either there or it isn’t. It’s taken years to move to where it sits and it’ll all be in pretty much the same place next Sunday.”

“I know, but I won’t be able to think about much else until we find out,” Alice said.

* * *

“Heather, I have a com call from the Armstrong bus terminal. I think you should take it,” Dakota said.

“Fine but don’t dump it on me cold. Why do you think I need to take it?”

“It’s a Japanese fellow, Tamezo Yanada, and he’s from their Ministry of Foreign Affairs. I screened him like I do all your calls but he won’t tell me the nature of his business. He said he wishes to speak privately with you and asked me not to post any public notice of meeting him on your public schedule. I didn’t bother to explain we don’t do things like that.”

“Does he check out online as working for them?”

“Not on their website. But it’s his listed job on two social media sites and he has pix posted of after-work parties. He’s listed on a job and career site too.”

“Why not the agency site?” Heather asked suspicion heavy in her voice.

“I think because, as close as I can figure it, he’s an office assistant, a secretary to an executive in the sixth layer down at Foreign Affairs,” Dakota said. “He’s not important enough to warrant a mention on their public site.”

Heather blinked slowly, visibly thinking.

“He wouldn’t make enough at that level to visit on his own,” Heather decided.

“Not unless he was a space nut who’d been scrimping for years to make a once-in-a-lifetime trip. Then I suspect he’d be visiting the Apollo sites and other touristy stuff. If he had some sort of fixation on you, he’d be on the shortlist of nuts who send you mail almost daily.”

“April has more of those sorts of loons. I don’t dress up in ninja outfits and wave swords around. The gossip boards are devastated that I don’t give them stories befitting a queen.”

“You have more than you think. I don’t update you when I add a new nut case to the blocked list. They go in with all the pleas to promote causes and beg money.”

“If his masters paid his way up, I’d guess it is because he’s unimportant enough he isn’t in the public eye and won’t be missed from his job. I think I better talk to him,” Heather agreed, “but in person. Go back and arrange to bring him here.”

“Do you want to send somebody to escort him down?”

“No, if there’s one of the automated cars close enough, give him an access code locked to bring him here. If he tries to jump off at a stop the cab will lock up without his weight in it and report to us. He’d be easy enough to find then. That would pretty much tell us he’s up to no good if he won’t come straight to us given a free ride.”

“I’m on it,” Dakota assured her.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 11

“We’re not trying to be productive today,” Vic said. “I’m just bringing pans and qualifier screens to travel light. It will be enough to accomplish today to find out if the deposits we’ve been working on have an identifiable source. I’ve been thinking about it and I want to observe the banks and hills on both sides for any signs as we walk upstream. We’ll stop and have one of us sample anywhere something looks different. If that doesn’t help us localize it, we’ll work back downstream by set distances. Alice, how many paces did you end up going to find the unproductive area?”

“I went twenty-four hundred paces. For me, walking on gravel, figure four paces to the meter. There were only a few places I had to climb over big rocks and I crossed the stream twice when it was flatter on the other side.”

Vic nodded. “I’m bringing a notebook and I’ll make a map as we go.”

They walked along mostly silent. There wasn’t much to say and silence in the woods was a habit to enhance safety for them. Unnecessary chatter broadcast they were coming to man or beast. Better to see or hear the other fellow first.

“There’s the boulder I dug under and worked on our last visit,” Vic said. “This is our start point.” He drew a line at the bottom of his first notebook page. “We have a hillside tapering away to the left and a ravine coming in ahead a little bit on the right.”

He drew a curved line for the left slope and a V for the ravine on each side of the stream and wrote what they meant in case it was hard to remember later.

“Let’s pace it off, then we’ll keep doing that. You count your paces, Alice. It’s easier for me to match your steps than to make you stretch to mine.”

“A hundred thirty paces to the centerline of the ravine,” Alice called it.

It was a hundred twenty-five delicate little steps for Vic. He wasn’t too far off her stride.

“It isn’t a real ravine but the hillside dips away from the stream here. I’ll note that.”

They proceeded like that, marking snags and boulders as well as the features of the terrain out to twenty-six hundred paces.

“This cleft is different than the others,” Alice said.

Vic thought so too but he was waiting to see if the women would see it.

“This is the first place there is a little valley opposite each other and the one face is sheer, almost a cliff,” Alice said.

“And that face is lighter colored,” Eileen observed.

“Yeah, I think this is our first place to test,” Vic said shrugging off his pack. “I’m going to get a bag of dirt from the dry channel above the flood line for the creek and bring it down to pan out. Alice, I’d like you to go a hundred meters or more upstream and pan for about an hour. I’ll blow my whistle for you to come back. Eileen can try the main stream here a little below these cuts, but in sight of me.”

For a wonder, they both went with no backtalk.

Vic almost called them back early, but went instead and got a sack to test from the narrow little canyon on the opposite bank. When he finished that he gave a couple of long blasts on his whistle.

Alice didn’t even say anything. She just gave an emphatic thumbs down as she approached.

Eileen waited for her by Vic, so she’d only have to tell her story once.

“It’s not bad at all,” Eileen said. “I found one little hot spot under a rock and most of what I got was from there. It looks like close to a half gram,” she said showing a vial. “I’ve done that well downstream but not very often. How did you do?”

Vic held up a vial three-quarters full that amounted to about twenty grams.

“Hot damn… That’s more like it,” Alice said. She couldn’t stand still bouncing in place and holding her hand out to see the little jar.

“When you climb up there,” Vic said pointing. “There’s a lot of quartz on the steep face. It runs in veins down towards the stream and then on the other side it can be seen down low. I suspect it will continue down below ground out of sight. That’s why there isn’t as much gold to be found over there. It hasn’t weathered out of the rock.”

“There’s probably gold in there a hard rock miner could get out,” Eileen speculated.

“And maybe someday, if the Texans get things back anywhere near our old normal , we can buy explosives to break it up and tools to exploit it. Right now, I think there is a lot to be cleaned up along the cliff, down this wash, and in the stream from here down. Plenty enough to keep us busy for a few years,” Vic predicted.

“And you can set up your storage pit there on the side with the gentler slope,” Alice said.

“Next visit,” Vic agreed. “This is going to be our regular site for a long time. I need to make a bigger sluice we can position right in the stream and carry up the hill to hide in sections. Do you want to work together and split it three ways instead of working alone?” he asked Alice. “You’d mostly be bringing paydirt down to the stream.”

“Better than lugging it uphill,” she quipped. “I’ll try it. If we don’t do better, I reserve the right to switch back.”

“Deal,” Vic said very formally.

* * *

Tamezo Yanada was slight of frame and looked terribly serious. Dakota announced him, and went back to her work. He presented his card double-handed and incorporated a slight bow with the presentation. Heather was surprised he had a card at his professional level. His position wasn’t the sort that would face the public. On examining it, the name wasn’t his. Rather the card was for a third-level minister of foreign affairs, well above him, heading the Bureau of Information analysis. She waved for him to take a seat.

“I don’t understand why you are handing me somebody else’s card,” Heather said.

“My apologies. I thought being from Mitsubishi 3 you would be very familiar with the customs of meishi. I gave you that to show I have the confidence of this person and that you may be assured I’m acting as his agent. It acts as my bona fides.”

“OK, so you are saying you are acting with portfolio,” Heather surmised. “And this is like a letter of introduction. This secretive approach doesn’t give me the confidence in you a public visit from higher-ranking actors would. I don’t understand the necessity of it.”

“That is understood. If you decide to disregard what I tell you entirely that is the risk we take. However, we are under duress.”

That claim made Heather raise an eyebrow but she didn’t interrupt.

He didn’t put on a show of a strained voice or contorted face. Heather doubted the little man had the capacity for such theatrics, but his hands found each other and gripped together white-knuckled against his stomach with emotion that was more convincing than the card.

“The North Americans similarly served notice to us with a deniable lower-level embassy staffer that a change was coming,” Tamezo said. “The core message was that there was going to be a reckoning with the Spacers. That North America saw access to the stars as a matter of national survival and we were told we would be well served to discuss it internally and be ready to publicly accommodate it. That would spare us the indignity of needing to back off any initial opposition because they intend to do this at any cost.”

“Do they really not understand it is within our capacity to destroy them?” Heather asked. “I charged a peer with formulating a plan to do so. We can remove the energy, communications, and transportation infrastructure of North America such that the economy and population would crash back to early twentieth-century levels. The more complex it has become as they grow, and all the interdependencies they’ve built in to increase efficiency, have made that easier . The whole mess has grown to be so complex it is at constant risk of widespread failure from one storm or earthquake, much less external hostile action.”

“They know. They know ,” Tamezo agreed, “What is new is that they vow to take your allies with them if they fall. If you cut them off from the heavens, they vow to cut you off from trade with Earth even if they must block their trading partners and past allies. They promised military action against spaceports that allow launches that connect to Home or Central. They made clear they intend to take us and others… hostage , to use against you. And like any bully, they made threats that we must maintain our silence. They vow any public complaint would cause them to immediately initiate their plan.”

Heather was shocked to silence.

“The situation is to their advantage right now because China is in chaos and very little is making its way from that country. Indeed, several of the factions have isolated the areas they hold. Europe hasn’t been able to supply its own needs for several decades now much less have excess to export. Australia still doesn’t have the population to be a world supplier and likely never will.

“My own country has seen the same decline in population and decreased production as the others. It isn’t just gross numbers. The talent that ran all the vital industries died off when things were no longer produced domestically and they never passed their skills on. North America went through this same supply crisis before us when recovery from it was easier. And Africa. . .”

“Has always been a mess and will be until they dump tribalism,” Heather said. “Never, if I’m any judge of human nature.”

“Yes,” Tamezo said. Grateful she said what he was reluctant to say out loud. “We are dependent on North America to a degree nobody would have believed possible two generations ago. The threats of withholding trade and blockade are very credible.”

“Surely, it’s not just cutting off exports to you. They will damage themselves if they stop buying from you,” Heather reasoned.

“Indeed, that was pointed out to them, but they insist the issue is important enough to accept the damage until they can duplicate the more important production. New factory construction has increased three-fold from last year so they appear to be proceeding on the assumption they will be forced to do so and are reducing the lead time by starting now. There was a sudden issuance of government funding to do so.”

“I haven’t heard that detail. I’ll ask our intelligence people to report on that. A flood of funding like they’ll need to do always ends badly,” Heather mused. “What about Texas?”

“They are still recovering from exactly what North America is threatening for us. When they declared independence, they had bits and pieces of North American industry that frequently found themselves crippled by the lack of a key component or material from out of state. The North Americans were happy to continue selling them Coca-Cola or tennis shoes but parts for combines and aircraft suddenly dried up. I believe that is why they became aggressively expansionistic so quickly. They desperately needed to capture a wider industrial base. That was certainly not the outcome the North Americans desired.”

“That leaves India and the various nations of South East Asia,” Heather thought out loud. “To what degree can you and our other friendly Earth nations rely on them?”

“India actively pursues certain export markets,” Tamezo said. “Pharmaceuticals for example. But they don’t support the research to develop new. They are great for drugs developed ten years ago. Their neighbors are hostile or fearful of India dominating them and won’t allow the importation of a lot of Indian products. The Indian internal market is so huge they self-isolate to a degree. For example, they sell launch services but will set back your launch date to favor domestic payloads.

“As for the others, nobody can rely on them,” Tamezo’s face registered personal disgust. “They don’t have the political stability to depend on them for defense or trade. Laos has had three governments in ten years and each is willing to abrogate the agreements of its predecessors. All of them have shown the same talent at stealing trade secrets and nationalizing factories for which the Chinese were infamous. Nobody will risk pouring in the foreign capital needed to boost manufacturing.”

“They can’t understand why anyone holds their history against them since it was a previous corrupt administration that did those things. They will never acknowledge it is a cultural defect. You can get all the cheap kitchen gadgets and children’s toys you wish from them. Things they can make at their level of expertise and resources. Try to get a fully assembled computer or a reliable ground car out of any of them and their limitations become quickly apparent.”

Tamezo paused frowning in apparent thought.

“I may not be making the level of the threat clear,” Tamezo said. “They aren’t just threatening to embargo us, nor are they threatening to blockade us from you . They intend to even isolate us from each other. They still have the world’s largest navy even after warring with you eliminated half their carriers. They retain most of their submersibles and long-range aircraft to stop us from replacing our commerce with them. Stopping airfreight would be difficult but you can’t run an economy on airfreight. They can easily stop the big slow container ships, tankers, and bulk carriers. Just stopping or sinking a few would result in the rest staying in port when their insurance was withdrawn. International shipping is a very delicate risk-averse system run to close to full capacity for efficiency and hard to alter.”

“That would be a brazen act of war,” Heather objected. “It would crash the world economy that has never fully recovered. Can they possibly mean to force a war with multiple other nations and abandon any pretext of moral principles?”

“Are you not yet instructed by how they have treated you?” Tamezo asked. They have no regard for how it will look . They will inform their subjects how it looks and they will support that if they wish to retain social ranking and income security. The perception of people under other governments outside their control is of no interest.”

“I thought we were in a different class,” Heather admitted. “That it’s OK to hate Spacers because we are rich and don’t accept all their restrictive laws. I thought the respect of other Earthie nations and trading partners still had some value to them.”

Tamezo shook his head, no.

“Without the constant sniping in the press, the public would forget to despise you. Only the very bottom tier, the negative income tax recipients, envy your relative wealth. Truth is, they despise their countrymen not trapped in poverty without needing any such encouragement. The strivers, who have a little wealth and want more may parrot the party line. They’d be very happy to join you in your good fortune given the chance. The silly issues like outlawing short pants and sleeves that are used to keep the public distracted are held in contempt in most of the developed nations even if it isn’t mocked in their public media.”

“We still can’t absorb everyone who wants to come up here,” Heather admitted.

“When it has been convenient, they have demonized other Earth nations just like they do you. The North Americans, well, the predecessor United States, what they call the Middle States now, put all their citizens of Japanese origin in internment camps at one time.”

“I never knew that. I knew they put the indigenous people on reservations.”

“Most big governments need external enemies. They’ll create them if there aren’t any handy historic examples. Americans have never normalized relations with the Russian Republic since the first Atomic War, through four changes of government and their economic integration with Europe.”

“Changes of the Russian government or American?” Heather wondered.

“Both, if you could get either to admit there wasn’t continuity.”

“I have a friend who had to flee the White House for her life. I can assure you she’d disavow any connection to the next administration,” Heather said.

“Ah, yes, President Wiggen. To me, she’s a historic figure of a previous generation. It seems strange to me to think that she is still alive.”

“She’s not that much older than me,” Heather reminded him. “It’s a problem from our side dealing with short lifers. We perceive that as a lack of continuity. When you talk again with your superiors, point out that supporting and promoting Life Extension would address your decline in population and preserve a core of experienced workers. You are currently throwing them away to retirement just when they have peaked in their talents.”

Tamezo looked surprised or scared at the idea. Heather wasn’t sure which.

“Surely you and the other hostage nations would have some military response if attacked. You may not be the equal of North America but modern weapons don’t need vast numbers to inflict unacceptable damage.”

“I am not authorized to discuss that eventuality,” Tamezo said with a hard face.

“Dakota,” Heather said to the ceiling, “Do you know where my cards are? I had some living on Home and I packed everything up when I moved to Central.”

“Of course, I do. I organized it all in a spreadsheet and repacked it logically for easy access. Big stuff to the back and small stuff accessible. Do you want them or are you just reminiscing about the good old days?”

“I’d like them please.”

“I’m going to run everything you’ve told us past my peers and intelligence,” Heather told Tamezo. “The North Americans have made a lot of suspicious internal changes recently that put us on alert. Things we could observe from orbit. They’ve dispersed military assets we ignored in the past because they couldn’t reach us here. That all may be part of what you are describing.”

Dakota came in with a long white foamboard box and laid it within reach of Heather.

“Since you used the associate minister’s card to send a message, I’ll send my card back to show I’ve listened to you and acknowledge using you. These just have my name and com code. It’s a Home code but still forwards to me. I’d scribble whatever else I needed to on it depending on what sort of business I had with that person. I haven’t thought to use them in years,” Heather said. She offered one politely, two-handed.

Tamezo took it but unaccountably broke into laughter. It seemed a bit manic.

“One did not expect,” He started and smiled collecting his thoughts. “When someone attains a certain level, they no longer present name cards. That only works at the high end. Even bar girls carry cards. The head of Mitsubishi or the Prime Minister would never offer cards. The assumption is you already know who they are and what they are at that level beyond needing to be informed or reminded. It is the sort of thing of which you must be very certain you’ve attained that level or you will never live it down. I think as Queen of the Moon, you are safe. I’ll treasure it.”

“I’ve rejected that title for years because it suggests I claim more than my limited territory. Here, let me follow my old custom and inscribe it,” Heather offered, holding her hand out for the card. Tamezo parted with it reluctantly.

She took a pen and wrote: The Sovereign of Central.

“There, that establishes what sort of business we conducted. I sell real estate and salad greens too, you know.”

Tamezo stood knowing this was his dismissal and carefully tucked the card into his little case. “I thank you for the memento and will be your accurate messenger,” he promised.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 12

Except for an extra blink, Chen didn’t betray any surprise Heather was calling him. Anyone else wouldn’t have caught that minor tell, but Heather held court weekly and was much more experienced at dealing with every devious liar and con than she ever wanted to be. The slightest change in voice or shift of the eyes provided her a wealth of information now. Some days she was tempted to banish the entire population and start over. Sadly, they’d probably rise up in rebellion and depose her now if she tried.

Heather calling was unusual. Without looking for an exact date it was about two years since she’d called him. She drank in everything he passed to the three of them with little feedback. It was Jeff and April who asked for specific information. Jeff’s questions could be so technical that Chen sometimes pulled an all-nighter just figuring out what the devil he was talking about. April’s questions were so perceptive they weren’t much easier for being narrower. He’d learned if she had a question about how avocados ripened and were shipped to consumers ready to eat, she wasn’t making guacamole, it would turn out to be an indicator of geopolitical significance. It just took a bit of study on his part to find out why . It was frustrating. He was the employee so he couldn’t demand she explain. Well, he could but he felt it would diminish him in her eyes. It usually made him spend hours researching obscure references and history. April would have just told him he would be better for doing that, and she’d probably be right.

“I have a contact in the Japanese Ministry of Foreign Affairs who explained why the North Americans have dispersed so many military assets and hidden key people,” Heather informed him. “They intend to hold everyone who is freely trading with us and acknowledges our legitimacy hostage. Given the chaos in China, they are currently the only source of so many manufactured goods that withholding them would be just as crippling as losing the very specialized things we produce.”

Chen frowned. It wasn’t lost on him she didn’t qualify any of that. Heather saw he had a thought and paused.

“They can obtain some things through others, just like North America still gets some pharmaceuticals and specialized chips from us. They just pay a premium to get them second hand.”

“And casually kill some of their own, who can’t afford the drugs or get stuck on the waiting list too long,” Heather said. “Just to make the point they hate us.”

Chen dipped his head to acknowledge that.

“It’s beyond that this time. They intend to attack any spaceport that supports flights to Home and here,” Heather said.

“Nobody flies to Central or Home directly ,” Chen said thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I have no idea how they intend to interpret that,” Heather agreed. “Maybe being uncertain is a deliberate benefit. How many are willing to find out how closely it is enforced by testing it until they get a spaceport nuked?”

“Given they are usually dual use international air hubs situated near major cities that would be a big risk. If they believe they’ll do it,” Chen added. “Even using very low yield devices would result in damage around the port.”

“The fact that Japan told me by a deniable back door contact suggests to me they believe it. They were served notice that making it public will initiate it.”

“I don’t see the point of that,” Chen admitted. “What value does such a threat have in secret? How will those threatened explain their change of behavior? How will it not result in others stepping in to take up the trade?”

“You are thinking long-term,” Heather said. “It would take several weeks of canceled launches before people will be certain of the pattern that these few countries are no longer supporting launches carrying Home or Central trade. I expect to be approached fairly soon by North America and given an ultimatum.”

“To drop the L1 doctrine?” Chen guessed.

“At worst, yes. To drop the doctrine in its entirety, or at least allow interstellar ships to jump out armed with any damn thing they please. They have no idea what or who is out there. Their record of testing and intimidating each other on the sea and in the air gives me zero confidence the North Americans won’t do something stupid if they meet an alien vessel. Treating an alien like a Russian or Chinese vessel and intimidating him with targeting radar is a good way to become an expanding ball of plasma. Said aliens then may reasonably conclude all humans are a homogeneous hostile species.”

“Is there any room to negotiate at all?” Chen asked. “I’m assuming you aren’t telling me all this background information just to explain why you are about to destroy North America. Although I’d appreciate a heads up on that, you must want me to find out something or try to influence events.”

“First, you mentioned the information you are getting from bug bots has degraded. I’m asking Jeff to pressure the Japanese to deliver the next-generation bots even if it is only a limited number. We’ll get those to you as soon as possible.

“As for what we’ll do… There’s no way we’ll drop the L1 rule, allow them to militarize the Solar System, and bring all their regional wars to space. If they try that I’m willing to allow April to activate her plan to reduce North America to the population and economic level they enjoyed at the start of the twentieth century. Texan territory is of course no longer targeted, and Mexico we’ll regard as a Texan protectorate. They just haven’t finished consolidating their hold on it. That removes a lot of the damage we’d do to the hemisphere.

“Canada hasn’t integrated into North America much differently than when it was its own country. That’s been a major complaint of the Canadians that they are discriminated against in the job market and the banking system. They get short-shrift in government spending. It’s too bad that they are tied into the North American power grid. If they can disconnect smoothly, they will retain considerable natural gas and electric power. They’d still suffer the cut-off of supplies from the south. There’d be little breakfast orange juice in Canada for a very long time. There aren’t many Canadian sites we’d target directly, but everywhere in the Northern Hemisphere will suffer several seasons of cold from the particulates released if we strike.

“What I want you to do right now is go to everyone trading with us at whatever level you or your associates have access to make them aware we know of this scheme. Don’t ask anything like you are fishing for confirmation. Present it as a known fact.”

“You’re that confident of it?” Chen finally had to ask.

“Confident enough to bet their lives on it,” Heather said.

* * *

“I have a proposal,” Eileen said.

“But we’re already married,” Vic said.

“Not that kind of proposal.”

“Good. I was afraid you had a better offer. I don’t think Texas allows polyandry, though I could be wrong.”

“A work proposal,” Eileen clarified. “I think we should double up and mine both Saturday and Sunday next mining season.” She stopped and let Vic think on that before continuing.

“I kind of got people trained not to expect to find me home on Sundays before we married. They do stop by on a Saturday now and then. I’m already nervous too many folks know we are away on Sundays. If they talk about it in front of the wrong person we could get robbed. You know all that, so I figure you’ve thought of a workaround?”

Eileen nodded. “I know we’re a lot better off than the Woodleighs . I’d like to hire Pearl to work the weekends for us. That way somebody will always be here and people will find that out fast enough too. She can do housework if it’s cold or rainy. Weed the garden or hang laundry if it’s nice. There’s always something to do and she can put supper on. Then we can stay a bit later mining. If she wants Tommy to come along that’s fine but I’m not talking about hiring him yet. Their family has no source of money for outside goods and even with the Texans coming in I doubt they will have any work available for a few years. Not until transportation gets a lot better. It seems smart to me to help our close neighbors.”

“It’s no trouble dragging the baby back and forth?” Vic asked.

“Tommy can carry stuff and they have a garden wagon if they need it. She can leave extra baby things here if she has enough. She manages all her chores at home while still taking care of Little Tommy.”

“How would you pay her?” Vic wondered.

“In North American dollars. You have plenty in the bank and they can use the credit to order goods brought in or buy from Mr. O’Neil. Are you going to keep your Chase account or switch to a Texan bank?”

“I’m hoping Chase does business in Texas and our existing account will be good on either side of the border. They may even let us do currency exchanges. If not, we’ll get a Texan account but I’m not sure with who. Probably whoever sets up the nearest physical branch. At this point, I think I’d keep both.”

“Figure on letting them use your phone to order things as part of her wages,” Eileen suggested. “I think it would look like we’re nickel-and-diming them to pay her then demand payment for a data session to order something. Just figure it as part of her pay.”

“That all assumes we’re going to be able to sell gold for Texan dollars,” Vic pointed out.

“If we get mail service, we can send it to a regular refiner with a real receipt and a decent percentage of spot price paid,” Eileen said. “That sounds lots better than trusting some tank truck driver to carry it back to the coast. Neither one of us was thrilled with the security of that and how much he’d nick us to facilitate it.”

“That’s fine,” Vic agreed. “You negotiate the hiring of her and what Pearl gets paid. You might get her to accept some things in kind. I know they haven’t had much luck growing potatoes. They didn’t have the volunteers we had in our old field for starters. They’ve been acclimating to our microclimate since my grandfather’s day. We usually have some left by the time we start replanting. It would be easy to plant more to supply them. Don’t tell Pearl why our potatoes grow better. It’s useful to have them depend on us for something. They might not think to try growing them from our spuds since they failed before. You can loan, not sell, canning jars to them to use. We still have more than we can fill and I’m reluctant to sell any. I’m sorry for the ones we sold at the fair. Nobody is offering anything for them I’d consider a fair trade now. Maybe she will have some other request I can’t imagine. Now, how are you going to explain where we are going that we need her house sitting?”

“I figure she already knows. You once said her dad and Mr. Mast both know to dig in the corner of the barn if anything happens to us. They aren’t stupid and they know that’s not where you hide your seed corn. As you mentioned once, you have to trust somebody. We had to trust Arlo,” she reminded him.

“We did,” Vic admitted. He remembered it as her saying you had to trust somebody but didn’t argue. “Pearl has more sense than most. If you’re going to be explicit about it, take the opportunity to stress we’re buying her careful protection of that secret too. As far as we are from any other neighbors but the Woodleighs, their security is pretty much linked to ours. If she speaks to the wrong person and attracts trouble here, they are comparatively easy pickings to anybody who would rob us.”

“I’ll explain it just that plainly,” Eileen promised.

“As far as Tommy, I’ve been thinking about it since you mentioned him. If they want us to hire him too, let them bring it up and explain what he’d do worth the money. I can’t think of anything I want to be done for us that badly. Maybe he’ll get inventive and convince us.”

* * *

“You are entirely correct,” Chen informed Heather. “The Hawaiians were horrified we know they are being coerced. They have so little land area there isn’t any way for them to disperse. Given the flight time of sub-launched missiles, they’d have to turn the islands into fortresses to absorb the kind of punishment North America could inflict. Of course, they don’t have the resources to do that even if they had the will.

“They never did admit they are being threatened, but their response made it obvious. I did get the impression a lot more is going on with them. There were awkward pauses in their replies and inappropriate facial gestures. The veracity software was throwing all kinds of warnings about rage and subterfuge but no specific conclusions about why .

“I haven’t been able to find anybody on Tonga who will talk to us. When they decide to shut down any leaks, they know how to do it.

“The Australians are in a somewhat better position. They have been slowly making hidden secure facilities for years now out of fear of China, but they’ll serve the same function as well for North America. What has them upset is the intelligence they shared about Japan. We were shown very credible evidence that Japan is prepared not just to absorb a North American blow but respond.”

“We’re aware they have some sort of beam weapon that is effective in LEO,” Heather agreed. “I wouldn’t expect whatever orbital assets are identifiable as North American to survive a day if there are open hostilities.”

“I’m told,” Chen said, “without supporting evidence, that they have been able to fit that beam weapon as a defense to a few of their destroyers and the four cruisers they have. There’s bigger news that they did document to my satisfaction. The Australians have always wondered why the Japanese kept a bulkier anti-air missile on their frigates and destroyers when everybody else has worked towards better performance with smaller missiles. It appears they did so to allow dual use of the same magazines and launch tubes for land and sea attack missiles. The Australians swear the Japanese are switching loads on all their light ships as fast as they can be rotated in and out to swap them. They claim from sensor data that the new missiles are nuclear capable. Japan has been mocked as a military lightweight in a lot of quarters for having no carriers and a lot of destroyers and frigates. The experts may have to revise those opinions soon. That many small ships dispersed will be much more difficult to track down than a carrier group, and the load from even one of them can do more damage than you want to absorb.”

“Oh ho. How many missiles can a destroyer carry?” Heather asked.

“From watching loading operations, they estimate sixty missiles divided between front and rear magazines and dual missile launch racks at each end. A frigate only carries thirty in a single rear magazine. They may be leaving some of the frigates loaded for air defense to escort the destroyers.”

“Everything is so complicated,” Heather complained. “On top of everything else, I have to worry Japan will devastate North America even if we avoid doing it.”

“Knowing most of the assets April has, her attack would be an order of magnitude worse than Japan’s,” Chen argued.

“Technically you may be correct,” Heather agreed. “I doubt they’d see it that way if they were only decimated instead of utterly destroyed.”

“May one know what you plan to do?” Chen asked diffidently.

“I feel the ball is in their court,” Heather said. “I see no advantage in revealing any of our intelligence capabilities or trying to disrupt their execution after they’ve invested this much effort. I expect they will deliver some sort of ultimatum soon and I’ll be in a much better position to respond knowing the limits of their demands.

“We took some ranging shots you might say.” Heather described the drops on Hudson Bay. “If they think those were a coincidence, they’re foolish beyond my ability to send them a message.”

* * *

The video message was delivered on a memory chip from the hand of the French ambassador to the North American President.

“I was not prohibited from looking at this when it was given to me. Since it has no encryption or password I did so and have already forwarded copies to my government. I believe the Hawaiians are being truthful in the matter and have the will and means to do as they say. France will plan accordingly.” He then left abruptly.

Forewarned the contents weren’t going to be a love note the President cleared the room and opened the video file in private.

The Hawaiian Prime Minister, Tanaka, was seated at an outside table with lush vegetation behind him. He was dressed casually and spoke that way too. His face was not the neutral diplomatic mask Dewar expected, rather he trembled with rage.

“Since there is very little we can do to offset the threats your government made against us we have put in place retaliatory actions to be initiated if we are attacked. If there is a bombardment with serious damage, we have created two smaller simpler nuclear devices to use from the fissile material in the weapon the Spacers gave us. Both are very well hidden on your territory already. We understand you are dispersing your government and military but we are prepared to use both weapons on major population centers.

“Since we only have two, we have arranged for both to be clad in casings that will enhance the fallout level both in intensity and over a larger area.

“Additionally, if we are attacked at a level where we are utterly destroyed and depopulated, we will have nothing to lose. We have no uranium mines but we have an excellent research center specializing in tropical diseases. We have deployed a biological weapon of their creation to be released in North America. I will of course give no hint of its exact nature that might allow you to prepare a response, but my people have confidence it would remove at least a third of your population with the majority of those being in the valuable working ages. It will then likely sweep around the world, but what do we care if we are gone? If you wish to feel our hand upon you from the grave, just try me.” Tanaka said. It was not a hand he raised to the camera but a fist.

The President didn’t doubt him at all. If anything, the hostile little man sounded like he wanted to do it. The man sounded as unbalanced as his Spacer allies. It was outrageous and infuriating that they would threaten North America with their own stolen nuclear material. He thought Australia or Japan might resist their threats but never little Hawaii. He couldn’t do anything about it right now but Hawaii went on his list with the Spacers for major payback someday, somehow.

* * *

“You know the little walkie-talkies some people carry around at the fairs to keep track of their family?” Eileen asked Vic.

“Yes, there are several kinds. Some are barely more than toys and some require licensing, but everybody ignores that. I don’t know if it will be any different with the Texans but it probably wouldn’t be enforced for a few years.”

“Are there any we could afford that would reach the Woodleighs?”

“Sure, but we’d have to buy theirs for them,” Vic said. “It would be a luxury for them.”

“It might be worth it,” Eileen insisted. “I’d like to be able to tell Pearl when I need her or what to bring along instead of making a double trip for something. It would give us early warning if trouble comes from their direction.”

“It is hard to expect her to be here two days, not able to talk to her family,” Vic agreed.

Eileen just nodded. Why interrupt Vic talking himself into it?

“That might be enough to sweeten the deal to get her to accept working weekends. It would let them hear Foster’s pirate broadcast too.”

Eileen nodded again keeping her face neutral.

“I thought about getting us a pair back a couple of fairs ago when I saw others using them and never followed through. It was a relatively larger expense for us then. I was thinking it would let me call you from the barn or most of our cleared land.”

“Would it reach our mining site from the house?” Eileen asked.

“Not likely,” Vic admitted. “They always advertise them as if you can chat with somebody on the Moon. The reality is they’re good for line of sight and anything between you degrades the reception quickly. Trees and buildings even but hills for sure. Maybe if we had a tower here and went to the top of the hill up there. They make repeaters but that’s much too complicated and expensive for us to afford right now.”

Eileen regretted bringing that up.

“They are cheaper in sets,” Vic said, frowning as he thought out loud about it. “With no power, you need a solar charger and a power pack to save it to recharge in the evening. But one charger can service more than one radio.”

“If we’re going to have a system, I don’t see buying two radios for Pearl and you. I’d buy six and a charging station for each household. That would give you, me, and Alice each a radio, two for the Woodleighs so they can use one as a base station and the other as a rover. The extra is for when one breaks down or gets busted. That would significantly improve our security situation and save us a lot of time. Does that seem like too much to you?”

Eileen was surprised he expanded on the idea and then turned the question around and was asking her. That was a lot more money than she thought he’d spend. She didn’t want to be obvious about how badly she wanted this.

“How many weekends of mining will pay for it? We’re kind of borrowing against our future just like a credit card, but I think we may wonder how we ever did without it.”

Vic laughed. “If we have a few more days like the last two will pay for the whole thing.”

Alice sitting listening to the whole conversation spoke up.

“If you’re getting me a radio too, use our pooled gold to pay for the whole thing. It seems like a good idea to me too.”

* * *

“I’m waiting on some sort of contact from North America,” Heather told April and Jeff. “It may be a message, it may be a news release, or they could even send an envoy. Do you want to be called in to help grill him if they send a spokesman?”

“I had my fill of this episode planning their destruction,” April said. “I’d rage at him so badly it would derail anything to which he might agree. They are trash and criminals. Telling them so won’t make me feel good enough to be worth doing. You deal with them.”

Heather looked at Jeff.

“They think I’m a monster. What could I possibly say? If they come to you with demands after they signed a treaty with me, they are simply announcing their suicide. Do record it for posterity,” Jeff suggested.

“We know everything you’re going to say,” April told Heather. “I could even say it with your voice and inflection. Don’t waste any more time than you need to with them. You know anything they agree to is just a temporary stance. They’ll end up breaking their word.”

Heather nodded.

“I’ll go through the minimal motions. For posterity as you say.”

* * *

“So, this is going to be a summer job?” Pearl asked.

“Yes. It’s too hard and dangerous to go back and forth in the depths of winter. We can just occasionally at the seasons change like now if the weather holds for a few days. We don’t pan for gold so we’re all free to do what we need to at home all week and won’t need help. We save up all the work we can do when we are shut-in, just like you do. In the winter, we are also trying to instruct Alice so she isn’t completely lacking in schooling.”

Eileen spoke of panning for gold because people could picture that and it conveyed a more modest image than Vic’s big sluice he fed by shovel.

“We’d like your help with the garden and laundry in nice weather. Feeding the chickens and gathering eggs. In nasty weather, there is always plenty to do inside. We want you to start supper for it to be cooking so we can stay panning until later in the day. If it’s raining hard on a Sunday night you are always welcome to stay over.

“I’m offering $200 credit a weekend against our Nevada accounts that you can use to order things from outside. We can also supply your family with as many potatoes as you want. Vic tells me they don’t grow well on your land. Also, the use of canning jars on loan. You can order lids from Nevada. We’ll supply a pair of radios like we are getting. We can call each other but you can also call between your two radios anytime you want. They’re the right sort to hear the local news broadcast too. How does that sound?”

“I need to talk to Tommy and my dad. They’ll miss my cooking and other things for two days. They need to have a say and they’d be upset if I agree without talking to them.”

“I understand. I’d want to talk to Vic in the same circumstances. If you need to get all of us together to discuss it, we can do that.”

“I see three things I can tell you I want right now,” Pearl said.

Eileen nodded at her to go ahead, hoping they wouldn’t be too extreme.

“It’s true papa has never got a decent crop of potatoes, but he’s had good luck with corn. I’d like you to get us started on raising chickens because we can feed them easily. The canning jars are welcome but I would need you to show me how to use them. I’d like you to forgive it if we break one occasionally. The other thing is, when you’re done with outside chores for the season and working inside, I want Vic to make a pair of gold wedding rings like you have for Tommy and me.”

“I could hardly deny you that,” Eileen agreed. “When it comes next harvest season you can help me do my canning here and then I’ll come help at your place. We can get you started on chickens come spring, but let me warn you. It isn’t easy. You’re going to have to get your men to build a chicken coop that will keep out everything else that wants to eat chickens too. On the plus side, we’ve got some nice pelts from traps around the hen house.”

* * *

“There is a third-level bureaucrat from the North American State Department at Armstrong requesting an audience with the Sovereign of Central,” Dakota said.

“How very interesting,” Heather said. “I don’t think they have ever acknowledged there is a Sovereign of Central before.”

“How gracious of them,” Dakota said drawing her face into a long sarcastic pucker and lifting her eyebrows in a single quick parody of surprise. “They must want something.”

“Oh, they do, and I’ve been expecting it,” Heather agreed. “I just wonder why they didn’t show up at our door here like everyone else?”

“They probably expect you to provide transportation suitable to their station.”

Dakota frowned and thought about it for a few seconds.

“That isn’t such a bad idea. I don’t trust Earthies but I trust the North Americans even less than the usual Slum Ball dwellers. Why don’t you send that big ugly bodyguard you have on loan with a backup to bring him over? Send a doc with the best remote sensors and medical scanners too. It’s been simply ages since they’d tried to assassinate you or your peers. I wouldn’t put it past them to send somebody with an active case of smallpox or a bomb up their butt.”

“All your theatrics aside, you're absolutely right,” Heather said. “Send a private car. That makes it safer for all the folks who ride the commuter bus too.”

“I’m on it,” Dakota promised. She was pleased anytime Heather listened to her.

* * *

“Tommy and her dad agree. No need to even meet them on it. She came over just to tell me that and had to go right back home,” Eileen told Vic.

“It’s a slushy mess out there. She didn’t have to trudge through that just to say OK.”

“I think she wanted to nail down the agreement before I could change my mind.”

“Good. That means she feels she has a good deal and we shouldn’t see any regrets. With that settled we’re just waiting for a warm enough spring day to march upstream. If you think the water was cold last fall wait until you see what it is like from fresh snow melt. You could look happier to have a house-sitter and cleaning lady,” Vic observed. “Are you having second thoughts for some reason?”

“I never thought I’d be the sort of person who would have help. I’m glad of it but it changes our relationship. I hope Pearl can be an employee and still be a friend.”

“I don’t see why not,” Vic said. “You’ll only be oppressing her on weekends.”

All this was said with Alice listening as she worked catching up on winter work sewing. She was getting good at buttons and sewing tight even stitches for patches and repairs. Suddenly she dropped her chin to her chest and started quietly sobbing.

Vic looked dismayed.

“Honest, Alice, that was just my stupid humor. I’m sorry if it upset you. We don’t intend to take advantage of Pearl.”

“It wasn’t anything you said. I’m not sure why I’m unhappy. That sounds stupid after I said it but it’s true. You’re both kind to me and we have it really good compared to so many folks but I just suddenly felt so overwhelmingly sad .”

Eileen got a suddenly understanding expression.

“It’s near the shortest days of the year. Lots of folks have a hard time with that and get seasonally depressed. Alice, honey you need to bundle up and go outside when the sun is shining like today and get some light.”

“But there’s always something that can be done and there’s light enough for it from the window,” Alice protested.

“But not enough to trigger your brain to feel normal. I don’t remember all the names and details of it,” Eileen said, “but I remember it’s a well-established thing.”

“If that’s what you want me to do,” Alice said uncertainly.

“I just knew it as cabin fever,” Vic said, “but yeah, it’s a real thing and we both do want you to go outside in the bright sun.

“I could split some more kindling,” Alice suggested.

They had enough firewood to last into next winter. One didn’t hazard running out as it was life-critical but Vic agreed since that was what it took to get her outside.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 13

Assistant Undersecretary Dunne was staying at the Marriott. Mack Tindal had “Doc” Gustav with him and wanted to pick him up in their lobby. Dakota had expressed her full misgivings to Dunne and Mack but they felt he was unlikely to do anything devious in a public place. Even more so in a separate political jurisdiction.

Gustav was a space-rated Emergency Medical Technician. With the tech he had supporting him he could do as much or more than most doctors outside an emergency room just fifty years previously. If he couldn’t fix you, chances were very good he could stabilize you until a specialist could work on you.

When Dunne came to the lobby to meet them, his luggage followed him at heel. Many people had a careful hesitant manner of walking in the unaccustomed lower gravity. His gait was outright doddering and his hair was thin and dry looking. The man just didn’t look healthy. It was shocking to the Spacers who were used to Life Extension Therapy making much of the population look middle-aged and healthier than the untreated. Dakota’s remarks had them primed to see anything out of the ordinary, but they hadn’t expected anything so obvious.

Gustav and Tindal looked at each other and Gustav got the nod that he should lead.

“Sir, could we sit over here and talk for a moment before we leave?” Gustav asked.

Dunne nodded like he wasn’t surprised. Gustav didn’t want to make the man keep standing, not even at Lunar gravity. They eased down on seats.

“May I have your permission to do a scan of your person? With all due respect, you appear to be ill to me. I’d like to do so for our safety and perhaps to be of service to you.”

“Go ahead. Unless you have some advanced therapeutics of which we aren’t aware you won’t be able to help me. I know I’m ill. I’m in the third relapse of a very nasty bone cancer that has reached the limits of current treatments. I have the pain blocked for now and still can function but I expect to be dead in another two months. I’ve been walking with a cane and sometimes a walker at home. This lower gravity is a treat. If I didn’t want to see my family one last time I’d just stay here until I pass.”

“Unfortunately, there is little basic research here in the medical sciences,” Gustav said gently. “We simply don’t have the population to support it nor the government structure to subsidize it. What we do have is here because it needs to be done in weightless conditions. Even that is sponsored and controlled by Earth companies.”

“Understood,” Dunne said with a nod. “It was only a tiny hope I still held a little. Go ahead and scan me to satisfy yourself.”

Gustav waved his pad with add-on medical sensors down Dunne’s abdomen. Gunny Mack looked around concerned they were creating a spectacle but there was no one in the lobby and the clerk was busy with his back to them.

Gustav frowned and had to consult several databases.

“All his respiratory emissions and direct readings indicate what he claims,” Gustav finally told Gunny Mack. “Some of them are things I’ve never seen but they are in the diagnostic databases. I don’t see him as a biohazard to admit to Central.”

“Sir,” Gunny Mack asked gently, “why would your people send someone in your condition? It seems to me you should be in a comfortable hospice situation not stressing yourself with travel. Begging your pardon, but it seems unfeeling to me.”

That inspired Dunne to laugh heartily.

“I’m the perfect candidate for this mission,” he insisted. “No matter how it plays out, I very shortly won’t give a damn who praises or blames me for the outcome. I didn’t undertake it as a noble cause. I already had a comfortable pension coming I won’t get to enjoy now. But on top of that, my family was given a little better funding and had permanent residence and passports paid for in Cuba. I certainly made sure they were there and secure before I came. If I manage to return before I expire that’s where I’ll spend my last few days with them.

“My fate gives me license to speak freely. I suspect some of the people in my department believe their own propaganda. I think they were afraid to deliver an ultimatum to the Moon Queen for fear she’d send their head home on a platter as an answer. That holds no particular fear for me. At this point, it would save me a few bad days.”

Gustav looked a question at Gunny. The next decision was one of security not medical.

“We’ll call a jitney to take us to the road port and convey you to our Sovereign in our private vehicle,” Gunny said. “If there’s any comfort we can offer please ask.”

“Thanks. Can one get a decent cup of coffee hereabouts?”

“Yes, we can manage that. I’m ready for a cuppa joe too,” Gunny told him.

While Gustav rode up front and engaged Dunne in conversation, Gunny sat behind and silently sent Heather a text outlining their actions and Dunne’s story.

* * *

Vic’s satellite phone dinged and he dragged it over near his breakfast and continued working on his fried mush. Nobody had called him in a week. There just wasn’t much going on. The hours of sunlight were getting longer so they had a few more eggs than in the depths of winter. The thought occurred to him that with more outside goods maybe they could add lighting to the hen house to tweak their biological clock. He’d have to ask the fellow who got them started raising chickens if that would work.

“Wow, Mr. Mast just sent us a long message. He copied it to a bunch of others so maybe it’s one fee no matter how many recipients.”

“If you look up the service contract to find out, download the whole thing to memory so we only pay for the data once,” Eileen suggested.

“I’ll do that. I think we’ll be doing a lot more calls with the Texans coming in. That’s what Mast is talking about this morning.”

“Want to summarize it or wait until after breakfast?”

“The advance team to liaison with the county government arrived yesterday. A Texan lawyer from their Justice Department and five minions. One a federal cop. They are willing to accept Arlo as provisional sheriff. They expect a vote to be held within six months for a county executive with an open slate. Mr. Mast is fine with that. He is actively soliciting anybody who wants to run against him. He’d rather be a kingmaker than be saddled with the day-to-day drudgery of the job. I’d bet anything that’s not the usual situation where they are dealing with locals. Most will be seeking the office.

“Mast suggested they build a service center and post office across the road from him. That was all state land so they won’t be stepping on someone’s toes to take it.

“He doesn’t want any of that to expand his fair?” Eileen asked.

“We talked about that some time ago. You can’t take government land by adverse possession. Even being a previous government that might come back to bite him on the butt years down the road. I’ve encouraged him to do that to the property all uphill behind him. It’s timberland held by a North American company. I doubt they can even do an aerial survey now to watch for that sort of encroachment. With all the fairgoers observing his use of it, it will be well documented as notorious possession.”

“Anything else?”

“Mast said the Texas Fed, Corey, hasn’t asked for a bribe yet. That’s a very good sign.

“Indeed. It occurred to me that putting them right across the road makes it easy for him to keep an eye on them,” Eileen said. The weather is still kind of rough for building, but they have fuel and can bring in machines. It seemed like we’d never see that sort of ability again.”

“Yep, they’ll be going in and out just three hundred meters off his front porch,” Vic agreed. “In easy range for a walkover and talk-talk.”

“Or that big Lapua he keeps,” Eileen told Vic.

“I certainly hope you don’t say that out loud to anyone else.”

* * *

Heather made Dunne comfortable and informed him they would provide him accommodations overnight and return him to Armstrong tomorrow. She cradled her mug of coffee in her hands and leaned back in her seat.

“My man says you are delivering an ultimatum,” Heather said without apparent emotion. “Have your say.”

Dunne looked at Gunny sitting back listening and at Dakota who had retreated to a com console but was easily in hearing. He decided not to object to their presence.

“The entire executive government, not just the President, is in agreement it is a matter of long-term survival of our nation to have access to the stars. Not this year or even ten years from now. The technology has to mature and become commercially viable. But just as the earlier nations who didn’t develop ocean-going vessels and later air transport declined and stagnated without external resources and markets so it will go in space. We do not intend to allow ourselves to slowly slip into insignificance a hundred years from now.

Dunne paused and looked at her so Heather didn’t feel she was interrupting him.

“Perhaps you noticed. We didn’t prevent France from going to the stars. In fact, we have not issued any prohibition to keep other nations or North America from doing so. The entire problem is that the L1 doctrine is still in effect. You were not unaware of this. You could have come and discussed it with us but you tried to bull your way past and ignore it. You’re getting pushy with me and we don’t push around for anything. We’re simply not going to allow you to go out there armed aggressively where your actions may have consequences for our entire race. Aliens may see humans as all the same and bearing collective responsibility for their actions. In particular, there is no reason to send armed military vessels to explore. They’ll damn well find something to shoot . It’s what they do .”

“Do you go to the stars unarmed?” Dunne countered. It was the first of his questions that sounded spontaneous instead of a rehearsed talking point.

“No indeed. Our armament is even superior to yours but neither do we have a history of attacking others who have not threatened us. We have no professional military. The sad truth is when you make it someone’s profession to stand around waiting to kill others and break things, they often find reasons to justify doing so.

“I can easily understand that if you are part of such an expensive force, not appearing useful or even necessary on occasion threatens the flow of funds to you. Exaggerating threats and creating incidents is a way to get even more funding and retain influence over the executive. Often, the military tail wags the political dog and gets the whole beast in trouble.”

Dunne blinked rapidly. Heather’s blunt style and pointed accusations weren’t the normal way Earth diplomacy was conducted. Her views were entirely alien. North America would find agreement with the other Earth governments on needing a military. They all prized their military as basic to any functional government. Having no common ground with the Moon Queen was challenging.

His pause to consider such a radical view made Heather wonder how Dunne was prepared for this meeting. Some spies were altered and conditioned to make normal veracity analysis difficult. His health might be too fragile from his disease to chance altering his basic physiological responses without killing him. She’d run the entire meeting through veracity software after they were done. Trying to follow the software while one spoke was distracting when you needed your full thinking ability to consider the issues. It was entirely too easy to start tailoring your statements and questions to feed the software instead of the discussion. A meeting could devolve into competing over managing the veracity programs instead of the original purpose.

Dunne was wearing high-end spex and using his high-level government issue veracity software as he had in hundreds of other meetings. The reports it made on Heather were more than simple percentile ratings of discreet statements. You could download fairly decent free software for that task now to determine yes or no. The very top-end government software inferred mood and emotional levels with some complexity. That is if complexity was there to be found. There usually was an abundance of mixed feelings and even internal conflicts present in his political adversaries, but not Heather, and it scared him. The fact she wasn’t running software and monitoring it was itself different from every other interview he'd done but he didn’t know that. He just knew the little shifts of opinion from the other side that reading their software generated in others was absent with her. He knew the little tells he expected were absent but not why .

Dunne wasn’t afraid for himself. He was obviously past that. He was used to negotiating with huge egos full of willful determination that was like a suit of armor. If there was personal fear in his opposition it was often deeply buried. Sometimes beyond the ability of the person to acknowledge it to themselves. A brilliant beacon of fanaticism or rigid ideology neutralizing personal fear was not uncommon.

As they talked, he became certain he bored Heather. That too was an uncommon thing to see in high-level negotiations. She was disconnected from him emotionally because she didn’t think he had anything worth hearing. She was going through the motions out of a sense of obligation, to create a record for the future that she’d made some effort, and somewhat depressed because she thought the end of the matter was predetermined.

The way Dunne read it off his spex, she didn’t want to destroy North America but thought it inevitable and had no doubt the burden of guilt for it fell squarely on them. He read that as a ninety-nine percent plus conclusion. He’d known before he left Earth that the Spacers could reduce them back to where the Middle States, the old US of A, had been around 1900. A mostly agrarian nation with a population in the tens of millions. He now knew from reading her that she not only could do that but would. A lot of the North American government still didn’t believe that. He decided the record in his spex would be vital to get back to his people. Unfortunately for that plan, Gunny would see to it that his spex would be thoroughly fried by a directed EMP weapon on leaving Central. They contained too much targeting information, right down to turn-by-turn directions to Heather’s residence.

Dunne explained in great detail how they could damage Central and Home’s Earth allies if access to the heavens on their terms was not granted.

“You of course must decide if you wish to take hostages and commit this great crime,” Heather said. “That is beyond my control. I’m sure you can damage those well disposed to us. In the end, they will still exist, if damaged, and North America won’t. I doubt we would even need to keep you suppressed. Once you are sufficiently diminished, Texas will continue to encroach on your territory. Mexico if it remains separate from Texas will try to steal some pieces too. Especially if San Diego falls once unsupported. Quebec, uninhibited, will seek to dominate and claim New England. Perhaps down as far as Pennsylvania. I suspect even the western provinces will become an independent Canada again. They’ve never been happy to be ruled by North America or before that their eastern elite. They will be greedy for warmer farming territory in the mid-continent. Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Michigan seem vulnerable to annexation at a minimum which would give them control of the western Great Lakes. You are surrounded by those who begrudged your rule if not outright hate you.”

Dunne could see all that happening in his mind’s eye.

“Can you define what sort of weapons on explorers would be acceptable?” Dunne finally asked. It wasn’t on his memorized list of questions, but every one of those questions Heather had easily brushed aside when he posed them.

“Defensive short-range anti-missile missiles, autocannons such as are used to defend wet navy warships, nuke tipped missiles that have limited powered range and are fail safed when they reach it. Say, ten thousand kilometers and incapable of generating radiation beams. They shouldn’t be mounted on a reentry bus that would allow them to be used against a planetary surface. The crew should have the option to set those off while still aboard to prevent capture,” Heather suggested.

Dunne noticed she didn’t have to stop and think about it. This was something already given a lot of previous thought. He wanted to ask if they had self-destruct mechanisms on their ships but didn’t want to hear the answer or worse, amuse her by asking.

“The treaty negotiated between your peer and Love is short on details about a commission to register extra-solar claims. If such an organization is formed it has to have some teeth to guarantee protecting claims,” Dunne reasoned.

“Be glad they didn’t detail how it would work,” Heather insisted. “This way you are free to make it acceptable to Earth sensibilities and Earth governments. Lots of luck doing that but we’ll cheer you on if you can make it work.”

“My point is, responding to a report of raiding aliens or human piracy is different than dropping in to unexplored star systems. They wouldn’t be out there looking for trouble, they’d be responding to a reported danger.”

Heather looked intensely interested for the first time and sat up straighter.

“How interesting that you bring up Love, who you thoroughly repudiated and ruined for his service. Yet that does seem a valid point. We still see no need to allow armed explorers or warships to roam about the Solar System at will.”

Dunne was shocked at her manner. Her voice changed . She was displaying an entirely different posture and expression. More than that, her biological readouts in the veracity software changed across the board so abruptly that the software decided she was a new speaker and started feeding its data to a new track for a second person. Dunne had never seen anything like it and wondered briefly if the software had just crashed.

“Let Us tell you again. The L1 doctrine is unaltered. We will pass exploration vessels with very limited weapons. We will give you guarantees of safe passage from the L1 limit to jump for such armed vessels as have commission business outside the Solar System. Such a defensive force must be composed of all the members capable of supporting it, not just North America, and must ask clearance to leave before breaching L1. Structurally, it should take the form of an international alliance. We are not going to negotiate this matter with the Earth nations one by one. We will publish that as Our will on the matter.”

Dunne got a chill down his back when understanding hit him. He’d dealt with countries that were still monarchies before but he’d never heard a sovereign make law in the majestic plural. Modern sovereigns were more national mascots than real heads of state. His peers at State all thought monarchies amusing anachronisms. Before today, he too would have thought it a silly affectation born of exaggerated self-importance. Hearing it in person from someone who had the means to enforce her will, there was nothing funny about it. To cap it all, he’d never seen his software label a statement with one hundred percent certainty before.

Heather leaned back, relaxed, and became - just Heather - again.

“Is that offered as an addendum to the treaty?” Dunne asked.

“No. You would have to ask for Congressional ratification and document it from your government. I imagine anyone who signed off on it would have to be sacrificed like Love. Consider it a freely granted clarification on the L1 declaration, not an alteration of the newer treaty. I don’t wish to open the door to modifying that treaty. You can be sure if I grant one modification they be back in a week or two begging more. If they send another spox after you they won’t even be granted an audience. This isn’t going to become a weekly chat.”

“I’ll be sure to inform them of that.”

“I’ll send an audio file and transcript of our exchange back with you. I’m sure you were tired when you arrived. You must be exhausted by now. Any further discussion is likely to be simply repetition or damage the understanding we achieved. May I suggest we stop and allow my man to show you to your accommodations?”

“I am, and I agree. Thank you for your time and response.”

“Gunny, see Mr. Dunne has an overnight room without data access and a meal.”

“You will have to wait to communicate with your people from Armstrong,” she said.

“Understood,” Dunne said. He didn’t object or plead because Heather was a stone wall of indifference to his wishes. He had a premonition right then that his veracity files were doomed to never be shared back home. At least an audio record of their conversation would yield very basic data about the Sovereign. It would have to do.

* * *

Jeff and April watched the record of Heather’s meeting with Dunne but played it at time and a half speed. The graphs and color codes of the veracity software ran to match.

“He twigged to the fact he wasn’t going to take his spex data home at the last there,” Jeff figured out. “If he thought he was going to take that detailed a map of our deep tunnels and elevators home he wasn’t an intelligence professional.”

“No, he has a long public history with State,” Heather said. “He wasn’t in the sort of position, like embassy staff, that might be used to give cover to a spook. I felt bad for the little man on a personal level. He’s facing death and hasn’t fallen apart like some weaker personalities might. I think that his question about a commission having a viable enforcement arm was his own. He’d run through a shortlist of other questions that all sounded memorized when he recited them. That might get him in trouble when he returns if he went off-script. Hopefully, he made sure his reward is secure and his people away so they can’t punish him through them.”

“We have so much smaller a population that we don’t see many exotic diseases and disorders,” April said. “The sorts of things that strike one person in several million. It’s a sobering reminder that Life Extension doesn’t fix a lot of things that can go wrong.”

“You and he were right,” Jeff allowed. “Love and I didn’t try to hammer out a complete plan for a Claims Commission. We would have needed the classic months-long conference with a hundred underlings, all running copies of change documents back and forth, that would be shredded before the day was done. We presumed the details would be worked out later if both sides would simply be reasonable about the end objective.”

Jeff didn’t say more but looked unhappy.

“Do you think I was unreasonable in what I offered?” Heather worried.

“No, he had a valid point. I think he was off script with it and that as you suspected it was his spontaneous thought. I’m frowning because I worry the Earthies’ implementation may not be as reasonable and politically neutral as we’d like.”

“How might it go bad?” April asked.

“North America is still the world’s second economy after India since China is so fragmented,” Jeff said. “They lead in a lot of areas in quality where they don’t have absolute quantity. I’m worried any enforcement arm of a commission might get stacked to favor them because they can carry the majority funding and build the most ships.”

“Yes, but that isn’t going to happen next week,” Heather pointed out. “If it is enough to keep them from forcing our hand right now it’s worth it.”

Jeff looked thoughtful and didn’t answer for some time.

“Everything we are doing is basically about delaying them until we have places to be safely away. So yes, it’s well worth it to buy another decade or more. If they abuse the privilege, better to deal with that later than commit mass murder within a year or two.”

“If we have as little as a decade, we need to build more ships, faster,” April insisted.

“We’re getting so much metal from the French mills we could spend more but it would drive down the value of gold and the platinum metals to dump that much on the market,” Heather said. “The real danger is people could figure out we have much more available than we are releasing or is available on Earth markets and cause an actual crash. They wouldn’t trust us to be moderate if they knew our capacity.”

“You’re the one who studied economics for us,” Jeff reminded April. “Does that seem possible to you?”

“Very much so. The amount of money in circulation has to be balanced against the size and activity of the economy. It doesn’t matter if it is specie or an agreed-upon fiat. If there is too much money or not enough money it changes prices and will heat up or impede business. It’s just that the scarcity of gold usually kept it from driving inflation. When the Spanish looted gold from the Americas, it wasn’t that many tons by modern standards, but against the amount in circulation then it drove inflation up three hundred percent over a century. Heather stopped building new mills when they were harvesting more metals than we could easily sell. If she turned the fabricators back on to crank out new mills, we could destroy the current metals market in just a couple of years.”

“Three hundred percent over a century doesn’t sound all that bad,” Jeff said. “The best Earth currencies run near that rate of decline on purpose and the poorly managed ones much worse. Could we spend what we need for a much shorter time and still manage to buy what we need before the value of our metal dips too low?”

April was shaking her head no.

“That was when the whole world was on the same standard. It might be different weights and a different ruler stamped on the coin but it was all gold. Now, it’s far more complex. If you flood the world with gold and platinum in payment you will distort the economy in ways I can’t start to predict. There is already a dual market. Some things are settled in fiat by law and some things are in gold or other commodities. Citizens are forced to use fiat and state actors can trade in gold between themselves or something like oil or wheat.

“Do you want to upset that, having no idea what the third and fourth order effects will be? If the world economy was forced to contract to where contracts could be settled in gold, I think millions would die. You might force some country with no reserves to stop importing grain. You might end up hurting more people worldwide than just going ahead and bombarding North America.”

Jeff looked embarrassed. “Forget I said anything that stupid, please.”

“You do make me aware of a partial solution,” Heather said. “We have a lot of other elements stored up we could sell. Some things like copper and silver we don’t have enough for our needs. However, there are some things like vanadium and cobalt that we have excess to our needs. If April can estimate the world market for them, we can decide how much of them we can release without causing major disruptions.”

“I can do that,” April agreed. “I can hire out some of the research to unconnected researchers and keep the critical parts in-house.”

“Your elements are all sorted by isotopes, aren’t they?” Jeff asked.

“To a degree. Some things were mixed back together because there was no advantage to keeping them separated. There just isn’t any market for them separated. Some would need post-processing to be pure enough to use as lab grade. Isotopes with close weights are only partially separated. Why do you ask?” Heather wondered.

“If you kept your fissile uranium separated, I’d be very careful to whom I sold it,” Jeff said. “Even if it’s not weapons-grade any enrichment is a big step towards that goal.”

“It’s only about thirty percent enriched,” Heather said. “We’d have had to modify the mills to get better enrichment with so little difference in mass. That would have made them bulkier and less efficient for all the lighter elements. That’s enough enrichment that we need to store it in long tubes spaced apart to keep the geometry from raising the fission rate and slowly contaminating it with fission products It would quickly get rather hot and a nuisance to store. I do take your point. We’ll make sure we aren’t selling it to bad actors.”

“That might include states,” April worried. “If somebody gets nuked with our material, I doubt we could satisfy them that we are innocent.”

“OK. We’ll just keep that off the offering list,” Heather decided. “It’s not worth the downside risk.”

“You said nations make settlements in gold. How about quietly selling gold directly to nation-states?” April suggested. “It will still cause inflation but the reason will be somewhat hidden. The money we get will be spent before it can lose much value and not be directly tied to gold sales. If the Earthie nations want to increase the issue of fiat to cover our payment who will know but a very few in government? None of them will want to admit to buying gold from us at a discount to friends or enemies. Very few nations are even reporting their gold sales and purchases now. If they want to deliver our gold in payment to somebody else, bars are easy enough to recast and stamp to hide their source.”

“I like it,” Jeff said. “The Earth governments would be effectively laundering our bullion sales for us.”

“Assuming we have any takers,” Heathers said.

“Gold production peaked about 2050,” April said. “Technology was keeping up with declining ores, but many governments were making sales to them the only legal market and maligning it as a way to fund crime and terror. Mining for gold itself as the primary product declined. Most legal production is now secondary production from other ores like copper. That’s pretty hard to hide since they know how much base metal you mine and that you will get a certain amount from your refining.

“If we offer it slightly below the current price and with assured anonymity. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble finding buyers at all. Almost all the central banks still hold gold. Some are even obligated to buy their native production. Selling it is usually a sign that a country is in serious financial trouble. That’s why it has become a secret.”

“I’ll see if Chen has an agent connected to the metals trade,” Heather promised.

“Oh, about Chen. He’ll have a hundred of the next-generation Japanese spy bots in a couple of days. He decided to let Jan use them all in North America and requested they be delivered ballistically to a remote area in Kansas,” Jeff said.

“You will get them lifted and drop them yourself?” April asked him.

“The Japanese have offered similar dead drop delivery, but I thought that tells them too much about Chen’s agents. I’m having them delivered to New Las Vegas and one of my people will take care of them from there. I’m getting two of them for us to inspect.”

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 14

“It’s like Love has returned to torment us with more amateur diplomacy,” the Secretary of State complained.

“I was given to believe you simply fired him,” Dawson said from down the table. “The news made a big deal of his arrest and not a peep about the charges being dropped when he cooperated. Please tell me you didn’t quietly make a martyr of him later.”

Several faces pivoted to hear his answer with real interest. So many of them would just love to have something that dirty on him.

“Not at all. On the contrary, I invoked executive privilege to credit him with several years more service so he’d have his full retirement on termination. He was privately informed that would be protected as long as he didn’t go on a talk show circuit or start a blog complaining about his early retirement. So far, he’s kept his side of that bargain.”

“And a similar deal with his supervisor?” the head of the DOJ asked.

Brenton just nodded. That man’s silence cost them a great deal more. He had much more incriminating documents than Love. To his relief, the top cop just looked satisfied by the affirmative nod and leaned back in his chair disengaging.

“No professional diplomat wanted their name eternally bonded to this mess, so amateur is what we wanted and got. When it looks like a losing situation that’s just rational. I’m not casting blame here. Say what you will of Dunne, he thought up that question on his own when nobody would have accepted responsibility for putting it on his list. It wasn’t half bad for an amateur and it did give us a door to go extra-solar, Dawson said. “We wouldn’t have gotten that much if he hadn’t gone off script.” He looked down the table to see how that was received.

“At the cost of begging the Spacers for permission to pass L1,” Brenton said.

“Only if you chose to characterize it that way,” Dawson said. “Everybody keeps telling me that the proper form is to just declare what happened and stick to that narrative. The Spacers aren’t trying to put any contrary spin on it. They seem almost disinterested in public opinion sometimes. I wouldn’t want to lock us into insisting that simply asking for traffic clearance is in any way begging. How much better to say we’ve always been cooperative about traffic safety when no military secrecy was necessary. Ask clearance on launch and act surprised if anyone makes an issue of it. If pressed, we can say the previous launch had national security issues that prevented our asking for clearance. A simple traffic clearance request from the pilot seems a cheap alternative to ruining our relations with long-standing trading partners and risking fighting a nuke war from the wrong end of the gravity well.”

There was silence for a moment as the council and guests digested that.

Chairman Dumont was impressed. Dawson was getting better at this.

“Yes,” the President said. “It still makes me want to gag but we’ll smile and act like that was what we intended all along and they seriously overreacted. But mark my words. Eventually, we’re going to make them pay for this.”

Long after I’m dead and gone. Dawson thought prayerfully. He’d have been surprised how many down the long table echoed his thoughts.

* * *

There was a report from Chen. It was copied to all three of them with no urgency attached to it. It was in a long list of other reports and news summaries.

“I check weekly to see if the North Americans have started any new activity on the Constitution or signs of building a new ship. We saw suited figures active around the wreck a few days ago so I put a platform in a position to observe with greater detail. I anticipate we’ll be watching them for a long time so I bought a telescopic package rather than use a service.

“They appear to be sectioning the ship into three pieces. The rear with the drive that was shot through is already detached. The workers appear to be removing the front control cabin ahead of where the weapons bay was. In my opinion, they will use the front third in building a new vessel and disassemble the rear sections.”

“Ewww,” April said repelled. “I wouldn’t want to clean up the bridge after the way they tumbled it. I imagine they upchucked all over the screens and controls.”

“It will just be freeze-dried powder now,” Jeff said. “A quick blast of air flushed to vacuum once or twice will sweep it all out the lock. At worst there will be a little staining to clean up. Just stay buttoned up in your suit to do something like that and you will never have to touch or smell anything disgusting. I bet there are sub-systems they can salvage from the drive section too.”

“The mid-section might have some environmental equipment worth keeping,” April said. “It’s a shame we didn’t get a better look at everything before returning it. Any delay might have endangered the crew. More so than we even thought at the time. If we found any advances, we could have copied them. We may have a better drive but we aren’t always ahead in everything.”

“And besides using the tech we could sell it,” Jeff reminded her.

“If you want to sell the tech you did seize, the nukes, let me know,” Chen offered. “I can seek buyers for that sort of tech who won’t use it against you and will keep quiet about it.”

“We already had this conversation about the fissile materials our French mills extract from regolith,” Heather told him. “We decided it carried too much risk of being blamed for how it might be used.”

Chen opened his mouth and then shut it. He had something to say but changed his mind and stifled it. April wished he wasn’t so damned polite . He acted like she in particular was some sort of ogre waiting to bite his head off.

“Out with it,” Heather commanded.

Chen smiled sheepishly. “It’s just that you already gave a very valuable, fully assembled weapon to the Hawaiians as a gift .”

“They don’t have any delivery systems or industry to make them,” Jeff objected.

Chen just looked at him disappointed.

“I think you underestimate them,” Chen said very mildly.

“Oh, crud, ” Jeff said. Not rejecting Chen’s thought but his mind racing down all the possibilities now that he had the obvious pointed out to him.

“Any ship. Even a sailboat with a low radar profile like the military ignores and for which they have never developed strict tracking protocols,” April said.

“Why get fancy?” Heather asked. “Crate it up and send it air freight.”

“They scan freight very closely,” April objected.

“But Hawaii has control of the sending end,” Heather pointed out. “They would detect it for sure on the receiving end but it’s on the ground at the destination airport. Too late.”

“I suggested they get help from the French,” Jeff remembered. “I suspect the French will be in the market for the designs even without the physical device.”

“Indeed, you didn’t lay any prohibition on them about reverse engineering it or selling off the actual device,” Chen reminded him. “Who knows what they have done with it?”

Jeff suddenly got a huge smile.

“Well, I’m glad you can find some levity in this mess,” Heather said, “Care to share what amuses you so?”

“I thought I was merely shaming North America by showing the world what liars they are. I didn’t see the other follow-on effects of releasing the weapon to Hawaii. Now that Chen points it out, I’m sorry if that ruined other opportunities, but it’s a bonus if I created much more trouble for North America than I realized.”

“Well and good,” Heather said. “But please remain above expressing any public joy at causing them mischief. They may do something crazy if provoked.”

“Certainly,” Jeff agreed. “No point in deliberately taunting them. They could get in a snit and refuse to take you up on your offer of passage.”

“They better get moving to form a claims commission pretty sooner if they are going to use my offer as a basis to ask clearance,” Heather said. “It had hard terms.”

“They will just declare the Constitution an explorer,” Jeff predicted.

“They aren’t going to rebuild that ship in a week or a month,” Chen said. “That’s why I didn’t attach any urgency to the news they were working on it again.”

“OK, but keep an eye on them,” Heather ordered.

* * *

“Listen up to this business news story,” Heather called out to April and Jeff and started reading aloud.

“The North American Department of Commerce announces a conference to proactively set standards for a new age of interstellar exploration. All spacefaring nations are invited to form a body to peacefully establish standards for explorers, set claims to discoveries, and join in issuing guarantees of rights to properly documented claims.

Discussions will consider how to promote development over the accumulation of unworked claims and the limiting of claims to single star systems rather than broad areas.

Questions of safety from biological exotics and the possibility of finding sentient owners will be considered.

Ways to promote associate members capable of supporting a national space industry into full participation and ways to share the benefits of exploration with those unable to actively participate in exploration will be explored.

We strongly suggest including business elements of your nation’s governance rather than purely diplomatic representatives.

When: September 12

Where: At the Roger Conference Center, Manhattan, New York.

Contact Milo Moretti, Associate Secretary. MMoretti@Commerce.gov

“They seem serious,” Jeff said. “At the time we proposed it I didn’t think anything would come of it. I got the impression Love didn’t hold out much hope either. We certainly didn’t waste a whole lot of time trying to detail how it would work.”

“I think the more you detailed how it would work the less likely they would adopt it,” Heather said. “This way they can claim it is their program and your suggestion to create it the very vaguest of ideas.”

“We’ll see,” Jeff said. “If they do something that smart, it will still shock me.”

“They have time to hammer it out,” April said. “There is no way they are going to have a ship ready until well into next year.”

“I bet we have our next lander built before they have their jump ship done,” Jeff said.

“Well sure. You know they’re going to make changes. They’d need six months of design studies to build a taco cart,” April said. “You can tell Dave what you want for specs and he’ll be quietly sending texts to the proto shops before you are done telling him.”

“You exaggerate. Maybe texting them to reserve blocks of time for him,” Jeff said.

“And he’ll deliver it exceeding your performance envelope with a few extra systems you had no idea you needed,” April added.

“That has already happened,” Jeff admitted.

“I’ll still going to issue instructions right now for our controllers to pass armed ships if they properly request passage,” Heather decided. “It would be like them to try to catch us by surprise by asking for traffic clearance before we are expecting it and then making a great fuss if we refused.”

“I hardly think they will surprise us,” Jeff insisted. “They need to both hold their conference and rebuild their ship.”

“Maybe, but what if somebody else like India asks the same consideration?” Heather asked Jeff. “I want to appear reasonable and unprejudiced.”

“You think they might form their own claims system before North America can ask?”

“There would be fewer barriers to doing so internally. It would give them a lot of leverage to influence the larger conference if they have to graciously step aside because they implemented their own system.”

“Oh, sort of a throwaway for advantage. I can see that working,” Jeff admitted. “They would appear to be giving up something. It reeks of Earth diplomacy.”

“While this will be marvelous if they make some version of this work, I do hope neither of you wants to register our discoveries with any Earthie commission,” Heather said.

“I never considered it for a moment,” Jeff said. “They are going to charge for this protection service, and did you catch that bit about sharing the benefits? They’ll set up a welfare scheme to keep all the poor and mismanaged countries beholden to them.”

“Besides skimming a good-sized piece of the action, I figure they’d consider the location of our finds targeting data,” April complained.

“Good. I’m glad we’re of a like mind,” Heather said.

* * *

“Have you seen the terms of L1 passage the Moon Queen demands for armed ships?” the Prime Minister, Verlaine, inquired. He raised his brandy to the light and inspected it with as much apparent interest as his question.

The retired Foreign Minister of France, Broutin, regarded him with amusement. The man was genuinely young, not just regressed in appearance from Life Extension. He at least paid lip service to Broutin’s experience. How much he valued his experience and how much he appreciated his influence, even in retirement, was an interesting question. He was young by current standards but Broutin admitted he was no fool. He asked very good questions. He knew much older men who had never outgrown being fools. The electorate seemed to agree that artificially extended age didn’t always buy wisdom to match.

“I have. They wish to limit the arms of explorers and keep serious arms limited to a smaller enforcement arm run by one joint Earth entity. Do you think the North Americans will agree to such a thing? They instead seem to be setting up to cut the Spacers off from their Earth allies at any cost.”

The PM gave a little negative shake of his head.

“That action preceded her issuance of those terms. Since those terms have been published, the North Americans haven’t renewed any threats. They never did threaten us the same way they did others.”

“Not anyone who admits having nuclear arms,” Broutin pointed out. “Have they reversed the physical dispersion of their forces?”

“Not yet. I’m not sure they ever will. It does make them more secure even if the original reason for implementing it has vanished. Since they went to all the trouble and expense why not let that aspect of it remain? It would near repeat the cost to undo it.”

“I’m almost persuaded,” Broutin admitted. “This conference they announced could be to demonstrate to the Moon Queen that the other nations can’t be persuaded to cooperate. It might be a head-fake to make them drop their guard so their ship can suddenly depart without the Spacers having an intercept ready. Or… they might really mean to form such an association of star-traveling nations. Would you want France to belong to such an organization? Might it not be a facade that serves the North Americans better than those who they will regard as junior members?”

“We have a functioning starship and another in progress,” Verlaine reminded him. “They will dither and politik for months regardless of their end intent. I propose to say we have such an arrangement to which others may apply by simple decree. We can then make guarantees for explorers based on the strong arm of France and any who care to join us. The terms to join us don’t even have to be spelled out yet. We can negotiate them once we have an applicant. That should satisfy the Moon Queen and we can quickly test that by minimally arming an explorer ship and requesting clearance out system.”

“A competing association. My God, they will hate you if you jump in ahead of them. Do you think it can be made a viable alternative?” Broutin asked.

Verlaine did a very Gallic shrug.

“If not, we use the situation to our advantage as best we can.”

“How soon can you make this happen?” Broutin wondered. Verlaine was delighted he didn’t insist on pursuing the previous question in detail. His understanding of that would be too easy to ferret out with veracity software.

“The founding document will be available tomorrow. A token weapon will be installed and the ship ready to request clearance in another two weeks.”

“It will be a pleasure to watch you tweak the North Americans,” Broutin said.

“Might you find pleasure in leaking the document to the Moon Queen?” Verlaine asked. “I am told you’ve made her acquaintance. If she finds any part of it objectionable, she may tell you why with more candor than a total stranger.”

“We have not spoken for years but that seems to mean much less among the life extended now than the short-lived. I was actually her mother’s guest. One hopes I’m not inflating my importance in a young girl’s memory to think she’ll remember me. I’ll certainly try to present your message for you. Get it to me early and I’ll warn you of any problem before you release it to the public.”

“Thank you,” Verlaine said setting his empty glass down and rising to leave. “I can’t imagine anyone forgetting you so easily. I do appreciate your advice and hope to serve France as well as you have.” He meant all that sincerely.

Broutin just dipped his head to acknowledge that modestly.

* * *

“Hello? Anybody home?”

The voice was strange and Tommy raised an eyebrow for Pearl rather than speak. Little Tommy stirred and yawned then settled down without a peep. Tommy made a sign for looking with two fingers and hooked a thumb at the back of the house. If the stranger was unfriendly, he might have partners going around back while he drew them to the front. He picked up his shotgun and went to check without a sound.

Once again, he missed their dog that had disappeared about a year after the day. The puppies offered at the fair were too expensive for his family to buy. It irritated Tommy that Vic held back getting one, not over the purchase price but the expense of feeding one. He thought it short-sighted. With a dog, they would have known someone was approaching.

Pearl quietly chambered a round and used the forward assist to avoid slamming the bolt forward noisily. There was a gap at the end of the living room curtains to allow looking out without moving them. Just outside the window was a fake antique advertising thermometer on a bracket. The thermometer was still there and functional but a small mirror was now attached on each side to allow inspection of the porch in each direction. It was clear.

The young man who’d called was standing well back with a bright lime green safety vest over a hooded jacket. There was a light pack and a rifle on the ground behind him. All that spoke to good intentions and he’d have been a fool not to be carrying the rifle. He had some kind of papers in hand. He’d put the pack on some an apron of icy snow by one of their trees and balanced the rifle on top to avoid the mud What didn’t make sense was for him to be on foot so ill-equipped. It was too early in the morning for him to have walked from anywhere she could imagine he could have started from and he didn’t have the gear to camp. She opened the door pointing her rifle down by the grip.

“Good morning, ma’am. I show this home as belonging to the Foys. Is that correct?”

“That’s right, but we are caretakers for them here today.” She didn’t volunteer her name just yet. “They get very few callers on a weekend and most people reserve Sunday for church or socializing but it’s early in the season for that. Do you have some business to conduct with the Foys?”

“I have a little business with everyone in the county. I’m delivering an information package to each household from the new Texan liaison to the county, Mr. Corey.”

“You don’t have a uniform,” Pearl said suspiciously.

The poor fellow didn’t know what to say right away and looked confused.

“I’m a clerk grade four. Not military or police. We have one federal cop in our group. He does wear the tan uniform with black trim.”

“Oh, so you’re civilian?” Pearl asked.

“Very much so. Albert McAll,” he introduced himself. “I’m proficient with databases and a little more proficient than most with legacy paper documents. I hear your county records are a mess so I have my work cut out for me.”

“More like non-existent,” Pearl said. “Somebody very professionally torched the public records at the courthouse. The computer systems and historic paper archives are all gone. It burned until it burned itself out. If there were backups anywhere in a big city they’re probably gone too. A lot of the homes were vacation properties so any personal copies were kept at their primary residence to the south.”

“That smells to high heaven of fraud,” McAll said.

“Undoubtedly,” Pearl agreed. “Most of the absent owners never made it this far north and are probably dead. In a hundred years if somebody digs a deed out of the ruins of a condo in LA, will it even matter?”

“You’d be surprised. It might if the property has become very valuable and the inheritance can be traced,” McAll said.

Pearl laughed. “So, the heir would just have to pay the last century of property taxes.”

“I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear Texas doesn’t tax your home or even a second residence unless it is an income property.”

“OK, that’s the first concrete positive thing anybody has told me about being taken over by Texas instead of North America,” Pearl admitted. “Not that I have anything against you. I just didn’t care if anybody took an interest in us again. People seem to get along better without all the stupid regulations and politics.”

McAll grimaced. “I hear what you are saying, but we will bring some things that make life easier. I was told Mr. Foy asked for a post office, and one of our clerks is commissioned as a postmaster. You will get access to better medical care, cell phones, and internet service when we can get a high-altitude drone up to orbit over the county. That’s in the packet if I may leave one on the porch for you.”

Pearl looked puzzled. “Where will there be a post office? I think that got burned out when they destroyed the courthouse. I know the county garage was all looted too.”

“The land across the road from Mr. Mast’s fair has been appropriated and four modular buildings brought in by heavy lift helicopter and put on temporary foundations. You are welcome to visit to post letters, declare your status as a landholder, declare Texan citizenship or register as a permanent alien. I’m afraid there is no postal delivery yet, just will call at the office.”

Tommy stepped into sight beside Pearl.

“I’m Thomas Fedrick and this is my wife, Pearl. We live with her father at the next home south of here. May I ask how you got here? It’s far too early in the day for you have walked and you are ill-equipped to walk the roads hereabouts or camp.”

“I have a bike down on the road with a partner. We’ll be going to your home next. We’ve found riding them up to homes alarms people and two of us at once make it worse. He’s listening in and guarding my bike,” McAll said. He touched a little black disk on his collar neither had recognized it as a mic.

“I’m surprised we didn’t hear you,” Tommy said. “That’s less than a kilometer away and it’s really easy to hear any kind of motor now.”

“They are deliberately very quiet,” McAll replied. “They have a very limited electric assist and a big two-stage muffler that has a silicone bladder inside. It expands with each piston stroke and evens out the pressure waves very nicely. We can talk riding side by side without raising our voices.”

“Are you going to be running the post office?” Tommy asked.

“Heavens no. I’m in IT and that’s an entirely different specialty. I’ll have entirely enough to do without wearing two hats. I’m just doing odd jobs for everybody until I have enough IT work to keep me busy.”

Tommy nodded. “You may come to the door and hand your material to us. Will you carry a message back to your boss or the postal boss if that’s proper?”

“I’d be happy to do that for you,” McAll volunteered.

“Tell him I’m interested in being his first postal carrier when he can hire one. I know the county and can divide it into circuits with a few postal drop boxes here and there near clusters of homes. I can pick up outgoing mail and deliver items. If you have prepaid envelopes that would be better than stamps. I’d need one of those quiet bikes and some sort of visible jacket and hat. It was smart of you to wear the safety vest.”

“I’ll not only tell him; I’ll promote it. I’m somewhat worried at present that I may get stuck with that job temporarily before our equipment gets here.”

He advanced and handed Tommy a folder with papers inside. It was the fanciest printing they’d seen in a long time. They noticed he was aware enough of local customs and conditions to leave the pack and rifle where they were and just bring the folder. He was going to fit in just fine.

When the Foys returned, Tommy was uncharacteristically sheepish.

“We’ve been reading these pamphlets the Texans dropped off,” Tommy said. “I hope you don’t mind. It wasn’t addressed to you or in an envelope. They were going by our place next to drop off the same package but we were curious to see them now.”

“I’d have done the same,” Vic said. “After we get cleaned up you can tell us what struck you as important while we eat.”

Tommy recounted his conversation with the Texan between bites.

“If you are serious about getting first in line for that job I’d go speak to the man in person. The sooner the better before somebody else gets ahead of you. Get your hair trimmed as nicely as you can and wear your best. He’ll remember you better than hearing your offer to hire secondhand from a subordinate,” Vic advised.

Eileen spoke up. “I notice all the Texans are clean-shaven. If you want to look the part to fit in with them, I’d shave to ask for an interview. I’d take a resume even if it is handwritten. They are used to doing things the way we did before The Day.”

“Eileen advised me how to present myself to them and it worked very well,” Vic said. “I’d listen to her. She has a good understanding of social things.”

“It sounds sensible,” Tommy agreed reaching up to feel his beard, “the trouble is we don’t have any razors, haven’t since a few months after The Day. Do you think O’Neil’s little store would have some disposables?”

“I have a couple of them saved back in our first aid kit,” Eileen said. “I’ll give them to you. If you get the job ordering more is on you.”

“Thank you so much. I think that gives me a real inside track.”

“That will be so strange,” Pearl said. “I can’t picture you without a beard.”

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 15

“You certainly look happy. Does that mean you have a new job?” Vic asked Tommy.

“I have the promise of a job later in the summer,” Tommy said. “They have to order mailbox kiosks and decide where to place them throughout the country. I’m not going to do door delivery unless it’s legal documents that have to be signed on receipt. Weekly delivery to groups of boxes will be a big enough step at first.

“That’s better for us than starting right away. It’s going to be an adjustment to be gone several days a week. We’re hoping to find somebody to hire on as live-in help to replace some of my labor. Being able to pay even a little cash wage instead of just payments in kind and room and board will make that easier. There isn’t much cash work to be had.”

“Are we going to lose you for housesitting on the weekends?” Vic worried.

“Pearl very much wants to continue with you. The Texans view weekends like we used to before The Day. I won’t be expected to work but that may be my only time to do things at home. I’ll be able to get our garden and corn in before I start the new job and by then we should have a hired hand to help. What with one child it’s already hard to expect Pearl to do fieldwork and we are hoping for another little one. I don’t see it as a problem for her to be here alone now that we have the radios. Things are getting settled to where we have far fewer worries about bandits.”

“The Texans’ presence will help there,” Vic agreed. “Raiders will avoid areas with real law that can call in overhead surveillance and tracking to find them.”

“Will they pay you enough to make it worthwhile for you?” Eileen asked.

“Honey, that’s kind of personal,” Vic objected.

Tommy waved it away. “You’ll be able to look on the Texas Post website and see what I make. It’s not too bad because I will be the station supervisor by title even if I have nobody to supervise. Their pay scale is geared to people who have rent or mortgage and commuting expenses. The big thing is that I can use their bike to and from home. That was the one thing I expected to be a difficulty and he didn’t care about it at all.”

“Nice,” Eileen said. “We should have super service, living next door to our carrier.”

* * *

“Monsieur. Broutin. How nice to hear from you!” Heather exclaimed when he called.

The unguarded genuineness of it melted the last of his apprehension.

“I’m heartened you remember and recognize me.”

Heather added the years in her head. Pierre had to have some life extension work done to look so good. He looked almost the same as she remembered. Perhaps a little grayer at the temples but that was as easily faked to add it as to remove it.

“Ha! I had an intense early crush on you that would have horrified my mom. Then you shattered any delusions I had by giving my younger friend, April, jewelry. I was devastated for hours, which is forever in teenage reckoning. I’ve managed to forgive you.”

“I’m so glad I didn’t know that at the time. I don’t think I had any other trinkets to hand out so you wouldn’t feel slighted.”

“No matter, I’ve grown past craving such tokens. As sovereign, I get a flood of unsolicited gifts now. It amazes me sometimes. Dakota sticks most of them in a storage room unseen and only gives me the things with sentimental value like hand-drawn cards from children. If you ever want to decorate an apartment in diplomatic chachkas let me know. I have a good dozen busts on pedestals of national heroes, flags, and ethnically themed rugs.”

“The horror… perhaps someone could use them for an oddly themed bed and breakfast,” Broutin suggested.

“That’s the best idea I’ve heard. We don’t have a landfill.”

“I would gift you with something today if I may,” Broutin revealed.

“You aren’t here so it must be immaterial,” Heather speculated. “Those tend to be better since they take up no cubic and are frequently of more use. A song or a poem perhaps?”

“Alas, I’m not blessed with being so creative. I simply have a gift of information.”

“Oh goodie. Something I frequently buy for myself. Tell me, do!” Heather begged.

“I was requested to pass a document along to you. France intends to steal a march on the North Americans by announcing they will entertain requests to guarantee claims to extra-solar discoveries and join in mutual protection of them modeled on your recent release. They are doing so without any great detail to be first and to better accommodate anyone who wishes to apply. They’d like an informal presentation made to you to know if the document addresses your security concerns and wishes. It’s only a few hundred words if you’d do me the favor of examining it.” He caused a link to download it to appear on her screen.

“Sure, but are you comfortable sending it with commercial-level encryption?”

“If it has your approval, they intend to release it later today. Even if it could be unencrypted so quickly there isn’t an Earth government that could analyze the impact, formulate a response, and release an opposing message in that time frame. Indeed, we could send it in the clear to North America as a gift and it would still be filtering its way up through the onion layers of bureaucracy long after it was publicly released.”

“I’m not used to an Earthie as cynical about government responsiveness as I am. Right you are. Hang on. Let me download it and I’ll read it right now,” Heather offered.

It didn’t take her long.

“Is this a machine translation from the French or a native speaker?” Heather asked.

“A translation by a human who is capable of subtle shades of meaning and technical exactness in both languages,” Broutin assured her.

“Then I’ll have no trouble accepting this as meeting our needs to request transit out system for armed ships. Do you have an armed ship?”

“We shall have a ship with token armament in about two weeks,” Broutin said.

“Then expect it will be granted clearance without any delay or inspection this time. We’ll take you at your word to follow a good faith compliance,” Heather promised. “Whether you keep the status as the first organizer of this sort of claims association is up to you. The North Americans have announced they intend to do the same thing,” Heather said.

“I’m very aware,” Broutin admitted.

“Your plan is rather short on details, but theirs is untestable since they don’t have an armed ship with which to ask clearance. Do be aware if you fail to organize a real association with space-capable members, we would need to recognize North America or any other party who proves able to do so. You will have to contest with North Americans or anyone else who pops up intending to form their own claims commission. China could surprise us all.”

“Thank you, I’ll pass that along,” Broutin promised.

“I’m looking forward to seeing North America’s reaction to you,” Heather said. “It will tell me how sincere they are about respecting the L1 limitations.”

“Yes, how I’d love to be a fly on the wall to see the private reactions,” Broutin said

Heather’s face had a subtle shift and was suddenly harder. “If we catch it on a spy-bot I’ll send you a copy,” she promised and disconnected.

Broutin was about to ask how likely that was to happen had she stayed. That’s why she terminated the conversation, he decided. She didn’t want to answer that next obvious question. If she spoke to that capability with North America it would apply to other Earth nations, including France. He decided it would be for the best not to press the matter later. He’d never caught her or her peers lying to him about anything and a frank answer or refusal would put him in an awkward position of deciding how much truth he owed his own people, and how badly it would damage to his influence if they didn’t believe him.

Jeff and April were very interested when she related the call.

“Whatever,” Jeff said. “The Americans, the French, whoever can organize it.”

“Just remember,” April warned them, “the French sent Pierre before when they wanted someone out of the loop who couldn’t betray their wider plans.”

* * *

“Is there any progress finding the Hawaiian weapons?” Dewar asked.

The question from the President simply wasn’t going to go away. He’d ask it every day with less patience and more anger until he finally demanded something stupid. The head of Homeland Security, Prescott, weighed the risks and decided honesty now was less risky than empty promises or trying to offer up truth later when the man was so angry, he wouldn’t listen. That sort of miscalculation was why he had his job and his ex-boss was abruptly retired by president Wiley.

“This isn’t the sort of a problem that one slowly makes progress solving. If we find them it will likely be from a breakthrough that will wrap it all up in a couple of hours. We are examining thousands of individuals with ties to the islands. It’s unlikely any would be involved in simple tourism. Rather we’re looking at people with relatives in the islands or who conducted significant business there.

“Since trade with Hawaii is greatly diminished, we also need to be looking at who is trading with them from other countries. Weapons might have been transshipped through Australia or South American countries. That takes more manpower than a domestic investigation. We’ve put so much effort into it that we’re getting inquiries from state police and other agencies like Agriculture demanding to know what we’re after. That’s not a good thing since that level of activity may tip off the public that we are searching for something.

“If word gets out about their threats it will do almost as much harm as detonating the weapons. There will be a panic of people leaving the larger cities. Massive traffic jams, empty fuel stations, and disrupted production from workers' absence.

“All that supposes they did plant them somewhere on the continent and aren’t running a colossal bluff on us.”

President Dewar got wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and his lips thinned. Director Prescott paused just long enough to let him interrupt if he was so inclined but he didn’t speak. He half expected him to say: “They wouldn’t dare .” Prescott took a deep breath and reminded himself he wasn’t a mind reader. That was a dangerous mindset to fall into. He joined this administration thinking he had a broad understanding of what sort of man Dewar was. That presumption was falling apart day by day. Even some of the things former President Wiley did were starting to look less stupid than he’d thought, which was heretical.

“With the nukes, at least they might be found by physical sensing. It’s hard to shield the gamma radiation and neutron emissions. A bioweapon like they threatened could be brought in with something as innocuous as a tiny bottle of eye drops or a tube of toothpaste. If we find that, it will most likely be because it was moved by the same people as the nukes.”

“What can we do ?” the President demanded. He always favored action.

“There are some bets it’s better not to make,” the director counseled. “You can lose not only your nation but a large fraction of the world population with one toss of the dice. Is the value of that win anywhere near balancing out the potential loss?”

The President didn’t answer but looked sullen. Director Prescott took that for dissent and decided his leader was at least borderline insane. That complicated things far more than anything Hawaii was doing. He at least knew how Hawaii would respond. Larger and more capable nations such as Japan or Australia hadn’t issued any warnings about their responses. That worried him far more than Hawaii. That seemed far too abstract to discuss with the Dewar in his present state of mind. Prescott expected he’d be told he was borrowing trouble without any specific threats. As if their silence meant they were cowed and were going to let this whole thing slide.

* * *

Vic sat down to bean soup with onions, finely diced greens, and carrot slices. There was no meat in it but it had the unmistakable flavor of bacon grease. He poured his over cornbread. Pearl was a decent cook and after the hard work of gold mining, not needing to even heat something was valuable. The days were still cool and you needed to work hard just to stay warm. There was snow still piled against north-facing banks where the sun didn’t reach. Vic kept thinking about how to store some of that up for the summer like people used to do with ice houses but there wasn’t anything like a front loader to move it. The evenings were even cooler and cooking warmed the house up. They would load the stove with wood for supper and before it was completely burnt out reduce the air intake to a tiny hole to stretch the burn into bedtime.

Pearl would take her dad a quart of the hot soup in an insulated jug and a good-sized chunk of the cornbread. She and Tommy would eat with the Foys.

Everyone was hungry so they were well into their first serving before Tommy came up for air and told the miners about the pamphlets.

“I had a little orientation meeting with the new county liaison for when they expand past will-call service. The write-up is fairly brief about mail service but they will accept packages up to twenty kilograms to send or deliver. The postmaster has the discretion to accept letters for free posting from hardship cases that are living below the first tier that pays income tax.

“The postmaster will open postal savings accounts and will give you a paper passbook if you don’t have a phone to load their app. They don’t pay interest but they don’t charge to issue a money order against your account either. They just limit it to one a day. They will accept bullion coins and bars up to a kilogram to hold on account and stamp them with a postal receipt number to track them to testing. You can only get back the size you deposited or the sum of smaller deposits.

“I’m surprised they do that much but it doesn’t do us much good if they won’t take placer gold,” Vic said.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 16

“There’s a live press conference starting announced by the French to deal with their interstellar exploration, international cooperation, and relations with the Moon . Five minutes from just before I called you,” director Prescott was informed on his direct line.

“Thank you, I’ll watch that,” Prescott said. He followed the link to a video of an empty lectern, told his secretary to hold his calls, and asked for a fresh carafe of coffee.

Prescott didn’t know the Frenchman who arrived in a couple of minutes. The captioning thoughtfully identified him as the head of France’s Space agency which was itself under a joint aviation/space branch of government. So, whatever the man had to say, it was worth calling a short-notice press conference but de-emphasized by using a spokesman from the third tier of government.

The man gripped the top edge of the lectern one-handed with a casualness that was intended to signal this wasn’t an emergency despite its suddenness. He looked up and to the side. Probably checking a clock to allow the full five-minute delay because he paused before speaking. Prescott muted the delivery because his French was rudimentary and he knew the captioning on a public announcement like this would be as thoroughly scripted as the audible portion.

It wasn’t any great shock when France announced they would be sending a ship out of the solar system. After all, they had done so before. That the ship would be armed and comply with the recently detailed requirements of the Moon Queen for L1 passage he didn’t expect. France had never shown any interest in arming their ship and it was a clear design generation behind the American vessel that the Spacers blocked from passing. They either made some improvements to be able to carry the added mass or it was a very rudimentary weapons system.

Their open invitation to ally with them to report and guarantee finds and claims among the stars didn’t impress Prescott. It was very short on details and France’s standing both economically and militarily didn’t inspire confidence they had the means to take the lead ahead of others.

Their spox was still not finished talking, having made the key points of their plan. He was now doing a proper closing to the sale by listing the benefits to all nations from access to new materials and energy. He was listening to him wind down with half an ear when his secretary informed him President Dewar was calling before the French spox was even done speaking. He’d much rather have some time to think on the matter before needing to discuss it but he could hardly refuse his President’s call.

He needn’t have worried about having ready answers. President Dewar ran on for some time telling him how unappreciative the French were since the USNA hadn’t threatened them over the Spacers and had bailed them out as allies so many times. He wasn’t looking for any input but seeking an ear for his anger.

Thankfully Prescott could still read the English captioning as the French spox finished his statement and listen to the President since neither was saying anything of substance. He waited until Dewar ran down to speak. Which was well after the French spox was done. Dewar’s rant gave him time to formulate a response the man might accept.

“The French aren’t delusional,” Prescott insisted. “They know this thing is going to end up organized around the biggest player. That’s us. That’s why they didn’t even waste their time creating a detailed plan to sell it to potential members. They are leaving wiggle room to negotiate with us. The Moon Queen said she isn’t going to negotiate with each nation so bickering over who to follow will put everybody on hold until there is one clear authority.

“Even if a few countries join the French because they were the first to recruit, they’ll come over to us when we offer an opportunity to join a bigger organization. We did after all announce first and in greater detail. The Moon Queen has every reason to hate us but will have to acknowledge us when we have the majority of developed nations in our plan.”

“You think so?” Dewar asked. “Then what is the point of this exercise?”

“Our announcement made clear there will be different tiers of rank to the membership. At the very bottom will be those nations that can’t reach local space much less the stars. They aren’t going to have much more than beggar status, competing for the alms of starfaring nations. Whatever the division of the spoils, and who gets to vote on it, France wants the best position they can grab right from the start. If they can claim to be our peers by agreeing to merge their sketchy association with ours, they will do so. Expect it to be with all sorts of humble statements about their reasonableness and willingness to serve the greater good. You can capture their goodwill by making sure the core nations in this association have the lion’s share of benefits and the authority to keep it that way,” Prescott counseled.

“So, it’s a ploy to ensure their status as one of the founders,” Dewar said. He didn’t say it as a question and Prescott didn’t answer at all, sensing he was convinced and to reply like it was a question was to open it up to further discussion. Dewar paused and thought about it.

“Then we’ll let them get their seat on the inner circle,” Dewar decided, “but at the best price, we can extract from them. Definitely not as a full partner to us above the other members. There are ways to ensure that. They’ll never have the ability to build as many ships as we can and we can make voting one vote for each ship or something similar.”

“Find several ways to hold primacy in the association. That way a sudden change in technology or the fortunes of either of us won’t challenge our leadership,” Prescott said.

Dewar nodded. “Belt and braces. I like how you think about that.”

It’s about time you like something reasonable , Prescott thought but he just smiled.

* * *

Jonus Kaleo was a brilliant cover name. Kaleo really was his name but his given name.

His parents reverted to the original Hawaiian custom of a single name but responded to government forms and mainland expectations by listing him as Kaleo Kaleo on forms demanding a surname. If he was called by Kaleo the reading by veracity software would fall within normal parameters. He’d offer that up if called out as Jonus.

Kaleo was a weapon aimed at the USNA but in no hurry to reach American territory. He would be just as lethal if he took months to reach his target. The little canister with its virus would be stable for years. He carried an inhaler for asthma and a lethal twin that was still in the Mylar bag and cardboard box with all the manufacturer seals intact. If he attacked North America there would no longer be any reason to hurry. It would be the dead hand of revenge acting. Indeed, he could release it anywhere and it would reach North America but he wanted them to know it was the retribution they were promised by having it start there.

Entering as a tourist or student was more difficult every year. Like most people from the Hawaiian Islands, the USNA had his genome from before their independence. It was a trade-off because they retained some of the intelligence assets from before. The ability to produce false IDs being especially useful. He could easily pass for Panamanian since he had no strong Asian features. Entry to Panama and cover documents for there were much easier than for North America. The two other reasons for picking Kaleo were his fluency in Spanish and familiarity with high-level food service. He’d spent nearly a decade in Ecuador recently as a business manager for a resort and worked as a sous chef in several Hawaiian resorts before the tourist trade went belly up.

If anything, his English was too good and he was advised to consciously limit his vocabulary. He spent three days with a native Panamanian conversing in Spanish and having his phrases and accent corrected to purge the Ecuadorian usages. He was also given a drive with Panamanian-produced video shows and news programs to study.

When he applied for a job as a Demi Chef De Partie with Majestic Cruise Lines it was because they had a liberal policy allowing independent shore leave for their personnel. He was able to list his actual jobs at resorts for references because they were all closed or down-sized and renamed. He used the home address of Hawaii’s consul to Panama who was a native Panamanian. Like many minor nations, they hired consuls from locals at a much lower cost than sending appointees. They did not have a full embassy here or in most other nations due to the expense. Truth was, the consul was called on to do very little.

The recruiter after a quick scan of his application turned a screen to him and had the executive chef do a short video interview on what he knew. That part was in English only to his great advantage. The man admitted he seemed to know the dance or at least the basic steps but suggested his resume was padded a little. He offered Kaleo the position of First Cook with the possibility of advancement after two or three cruises if he demonstrated good ability.

Kaleo didn’t jump at it too eagerly He asked about the wage spread between the two positions and if he got shore leave at that level.

“I’ll start you at the wage we usually advance the First Cook to after a year with us. Your experience warrants that much. All my people get shore leave as I am able. Not every port for everyone but even my pot washers will get to visit somewhere. When we are in popular ports enough passengers go ashore that we shut down some food services, and cruises with longer port stays have become very popular. If there’s a particular port you want to visit just tell me ahead and I’ll try to arrange it.”

“That all sounds fair to me and I’m confident I can satisfy you with my work. I’d be happy to hire on as First Cook,” Kaleo said.

“Fine, finish up with the recruiter. He’ll give you directions when and where to report, give you materials with all our rules, and issue you ID,” the executive said.

“Thank you, sir.” Kaleo got a nod and his new boss was gone.

The recruiter slid a packet of papers across the desk with an appointment card on top and was happy to be rid of him. It was almost lunchtime. Kaleo saw he had three days before he had to report. He’d spend that becoming familiar with Panama City so his background would be filled in better. Being able to name a few restaurants and their signature dishes he favored as well as knowing a few well-known scenic locations in the city would bolster his cover story.

* * *

“It’s ugly,” April complained.

“So is a garbage truck or a container ship,” Jeff argued. “You may not get excited by a big box truck but you wouldn’t want to move your household goods hundreds of kilometers in a sleek streamlined sports car. You need to learn and appreciate that function has a certain beauty of its own.”

April made a moue and wrinkled her nose up.

“It looks a lot like the French space station. Except you are showing it pointy side up instead of down. I never thought about it before. Why do they always show it point down?”

“ Because, that’s how it looks most like a turnip to people,” Jeff said. “Even their local traffic control has given up correcting people who ask for clearance to the Turnip. People will call things what they wish and trying to turn the tide once a usage has taken hold is futile. Some of the same design principles that went into maximizing the utility of the Turnip’s volume were applied to the ship. M3 was built to maximize human habitation and to charge high rents. The French went for more low-g industrial space. It’s worked for both of them.”

“Show me the translucent model again,” April requested.

The skin of the craft faded to a barely visible gray fog and the bones of the ship showed in pink planes and tubes. The various systems showed in green, yellow, and violet.

“What’s that big tube running right up the middle?”

“That’s a heavy freight elevator,” Jeff told her. He zoomed in to show detail.

“No, that’s a horrible idea,” April said.

Jeff looked stricken and Heather who was staying out of it turned away to hide her smile. April and Jeff were both perceptive enough that covering it with her hand would just draw attention to it.

A lesser man would have objected April had no design experience. He was helped to avoid that trap by all the people who had reminded him he had no engineering degree.

“You must have a reason why,” Jeff allowed carefully.

“It’s like having a support pillar in the middle of a garage,” April said. “If I want to slide a huge piece of mining machinery or even a smaller spaceship in there, I don’t want that elevator in the way. Some damn fool will be sure to run into it with a forklift. That makes you load really massive freight off-center too. Think about how the ship would handle loaded like that. The hatches on each deck need to be much wider too.”

“The column around the elevator is load-bearing. If I eliminate it the skin of the ship will have to be much stronger to support the huge span of the center decks. Just guessing off the top of my head the whole ship will be a good five percent heavier. And if I make the hatches very wide there will be an entire panel down one side of the ship where it can’t take as much thrust and has to be reinforced on both sides.” Jeff made changes by hand to show where he'd need to do that.

“Stagger the hatches from each other,” April suggested. “You’ll never use two at the same time docked to another ship or station but if it’s sitting on the ground, you might have three decks loading at the same time. It will simplify stress calculations.”

Jeff altered the design on the screen taking a little longer this time.

“If you ever have to use them as weapon ports the way you did recently shooting at the North Americans, you’ll have better coverage,” Heather said. “Sadly, we do have to think about that.”

“I suppose the weight penalty doesn’t mean as much,” Jeff allowed. “If you fill that baby up with bulk materials there won’t be much difference in the total mass.”

“Maybe put a conveyor type loading and unloading system in that you can store on one level,” April decided.

“This is so big,” Heather said suddenly worried. “Make sure it’s all inside the radius that’s dragged along at jump. How embarrassing would it be to jump out and find you’d left a substantial portion of the outer layers of your ship behind?”

“OK, that’s going to force me to test if multiple drives can work on one ship,” Jeff said. “At least someday, not that we have the fluid to spare if the experiment goes badly.”

“Maybe you will get to jump out and drag the Moon along someday,” Heather teased April. That had been an early unfounded fear of April’s.

“Maybe not the Moon but a much smaller moon,” April decided.

“Are we in agreement to make something roughly similar to this?” Heather asked.

They all looked at the design on the screen and thought about it. April got past the ugly and Jeff accepted the changes. They both gave Heather a nod of approval.

“How long to build it?” April asked.

“It gets faster all the time,” Jeff said. “What used to be the ways we did rapid prototyping are now standard manufacturing technologies. If Heather can fund it that fast; we can build it in a month. Some things like bunk mattresses may be harder to source quickly than the actual bones of the ship.”

“I’ll release the funds and risk how long it will take to replace them,” Heather said. “If you look at my accounts, I’ve separated my personal funds from what I consider the kingdom’s treasury. I may be Central but if I have a successor, I hope they look beyond it being a private possession. I consider it my responsibility to be conservative with the wealth of the kingdom. But there would be huge political risks to delaying this ship. As a bonus, it will also shut up our flight crews clamoring for another ship.”

“ Ships ,” Jeff corrected. “We’re never going to get ahead of their desire for new rides.

“Perhaps when they get rich enough to build their own ships,” April predicted.

“This is so big it’s going to be obvious,” Heather worried. “I don’t like the idea of anyone watching us build it. A hangar big enough to hold it would be just as obvious.”

“No problem,” Jeff said. “We’ll build a low dome over an area and then excavate a hole under it big enough for the ship and room to work on it. We’ll bring the dirt to the surface some distance away through a tunnel so it looks like we are digging an elevator shaft there.”

* * *

“I’m going to call our Chase Bank people in Nevada and see what their status is with Texan accounts and currency conversions,” Vic said. “We’ll need money to send our gold to a refiner. I know the pamphlets said they will post items free for hardship cases but I don’t want us identified that way.”

Eileen stayed, interested in watching from the side.

The young woman who answered Vic he remembered as the assistant manager but he was embarrassed that he couldn’t remember her name. It was too late to dig in his desk and find her card. She, however, remembered him.

“Mr. Foy. So nice to hear from you again. How may I help you?”

“We find our circumstances here changed,” Vic explained. “The Texans came in and declared the area under their control. There was no opposition. We’ve had no contact or interest in us from North America. They are working with local leaders and establishing services. We’ll have the choice of accepting Texan citizenship or being permitted to be resident aliens. I’m wondering how that will work with having USNA bank accounts. Can we still do business with you and can you deal in both American and Texan money for us?”

“We experienced much the same thing recently,” the banker revealed. “We had a little warning because we got reports from several other bank branches as the Texans advanced. We had more USNA control remaining here than you, but we had no warning from them. Instead, the day before the Texans rolled in several of the local politicians and law enforcement headed north. If they said goodbyes to anyone it wasn’t me.

“We are functioning like two banks in one building. We have a teller window for business in each currency and have started a separate set of books for Texan depositors. The rules for foreign accounts for USNA citizens remain onerous. We have not been told to shut down but we aren’t accepting any sort of bridge accounts. If you change citizenship, we’ll have to open a new account to do business with you. There is no official way to exchange dollars between the two currencies.”

“Heh, is there any unofficial way to swap them?” Vic asked.

“Speaking for myself, and not as an associate of the bank, there are a couple of local gentlemen who make that a business. There is usually one of them parked near the bank but not on our lot. They will do exchanges but at whatever rate the market will bear since there is no official rate. I was told they may base their rate on how affluent the customer appears. I realize that doesn’t help you off in California. Are there any official changes I can make for you on behalf of Chase Bank?”

“Not today. I need to talk this over with my wife. If we decide to go with Texan citizenship, can we get other currency swaps from Texan dollars?”

“If your status changes we can buy other currencies for you or even hold accounts for you in other currencies. Just not North American dollars.”

“At our fair here, we have people offering gold they have panned in payment for goods. Can you accept gold for deposit? The Texans here said it’s legal to make contracts for payment in gold.”

“We can accept certified bullion coins or bars for deposit, but subject to verification and even an assay if there is any doubt of authenticity. You’d need a refiner to deal with raw gold as the bank doesn’t get involved with that.”

“Thank you. I’ll call again if we need to make changes,” Vic promised.

“Everything has to be so complicated,” Eileen complained.

“Yep, I swear that’s what they call civilization,” Vic agreed. “We’ll have to decide if we want to accept Texan citizenship. Right now, it looks to me like it will be much easier to do business as Texans. I’m just going to have Cal buy some Texan dollars for us from the shysters by the bank. Just enough to cover postage or other document fees for the Texans. I don’t care if they overcharge us for a limited amount. He can drop it off next time he air-drops us something or leave it at O’Neil’s store.”

“Just one of us could go Texan to hedge our bets until we see how this works out. They haven’t mentioned any deadline to apply yet,” Eileen suggested.

“It would be hard to get a North American passport now,” Vic said thinking ahead. “We’d have to go across the border and to a decent-sized city. It might be tough border crossing both ways. Last time I heard, before The Day, it took weeks to receive one too.”

“But you’re supposed to be able to go to Home without any documentation or hindrance,” Eileen reminded him.

“Uh-huh,” Vic agreed. “That story ranks right up there with the fairy tale of Federal taxes being voluntary.”

* * *

“Central Control, this is the armed French vessel, Tu Vois , Paul Gilot commanding. We have Earth clearance to raise orbit and are requesting traffic clearance to pass L1 on the way to trans-lunar space and transition to Proxima Centauri. Our flight plan is attached.”

“ Tu Vois , you show the same hull number as Inutile de Discuter . Is that correct?”

“It is. You may register that as a name change. We had an extensive refitting and the changed public perception warranted a name change.”

“I see ,” the controller said with a slight emphasis, making a joke.

“It will be easier on you Anglophones,” the pilot said in riposte.

“A kindness,” he allowed. “We have a note that the formalities of your status have been pre-cleared and to grant you clearance. There is no intervening traffic so proceed according to your flight plan. Be careful out there.”

“Always,” Gilot promised.

* * *

“Pre-cleared,” Dawson said aloud with a sneer. He was following the radio traffic recording alone but couldn’t resist venting his disgust even without an audience. He read that as the fix is in for the French. It was a huge relief the USNA Space Force wouldn’t need to directly run whatever this claims organization ended up becoming. It would draw on Space for armed ships and muscle but that left him much more room to turn down their requests as taxing their resources and endangering their primary mission. He couldn’t see any outcome but that North America would end up the top dog in this contest. Nobody else had near the resources with China divided and in chaos.

This new organization’s primary function and purpose was business and finance with defense as a bonus selling point. It would divide up the spoils of human exploration. He honestly felt it might never have any reason to request the Space Force act as an enforcement arm. Space pirates were a feature of sensational videos that were impossible in the real world because of simple logistics.

Running it would be up to a newly formed branch of Commerce though they would probably make some effort to give them the appearance of an independent agency. To Dawson, bean counters were one of the banes of his existence, and relieving Space of the primary burden of this venture wasn’t near enough to endear them to him. As far as he was concerned, they might as well bring back disgraced Quincy Love to finish up this debacle.

* * *

“I’m surprised they didn’t pick an entirely new target,” Jeff said

“I understand,” Heather said. “They’ve changed the ship a great deal. They know the successful jump parameters for Alpha. Proxima is similar. Everything else is much further away. If something goes bad, they don’t have to wonder which change was the problem. I applaud their caution.”

“They’re probably all the more cautious after losing their first jump ship without a trace,” April pointed out.

“Which could have happened to me if I hadn’t had you along,” Jeff admitted.

“Maybe,” April admitted, “and we still don’t know what happens if you attempt a jump without a massive target or try to jump through an object.”

“I’ll be happy to find out for you once we can spare the materials and funds to build an unmanned jump drone we can risk,” Jeff offered. “Don’t hold your breath.”

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 17

Jonus was an agent and a soldier but that didn’t mean he didn’t take pride in his work. The dinner buffet was a work of art with the end of the buffet table displaying a huge spiny lobster surrounded by chilled prawns and iced oysters arranged with greens and lemons to look like a coat of arms. The other end would have a server carving off a huge whole grouper. He took out his cell phone and took a picture to add to his portfolio.

His phone buzzed just after he took the picture and he switched to his text messages.

“Mr. Kaleo, when you can get away would you please come by the purser’s office?”

“When you can get away,” from any of the ship’s officers meant right now. He answered that he was coming and stepped lively. The purser was involved in supply and had questioned him about food vendors before. That was well beyond the duties of a First Cook but he took that as a compliment rather than a burden. He went ashore to local markets with his boss. He supposed it saved his superior’s valuable time to question him.

The purser had an interior office without even a porthole, but the luxury of a private head. It was large enough to have two chairs in front of the desk and a couch off to the side. A massive safe built into the bulkhead served both ship and passengers with valuables.

The purser looked up when he entered and nodded at the chair in front of his desk. He was a full three steps into the room before he was aware of the four men paired on either side of the door. He glanced at them but kept going forward to take the seat.

“I believe you know Mr. Allison of ship security if not his assistant. These other two gentlemen are from the USNA FBI working for Homeland Security who came aboard at our last stop. They have some concerns about your identity and materials you may have brought aboard. We’re treating their investigation very seriously because if they aren’t satisfied, they intend to turn us away from docking at the Port of Miami.”

“I’ll answer anything I can,” Kaleo offered. “I have very little in my locker but you are welcome to inspect it.”

“They already have and found nothing. They haven’t been very forthcoming with me about what they are looking for but indicated it could be easily concealed in any of a thousand little spaces. That of course worries them. They want to question you with software and asked me to have you empty your pockets. If you refuse, I’m afraid we’ll have to discharge you with two weeks’ pay and an air ticket back to Panama City.”

“I don’t think you’ll have to do that,” Kaleo said but his heart was sinking. He laid his cell phone on the edge of the desk in front of him followed by his wallet and pocket change. He had a tiny penknife and a poorly populated key chain with a tiny flashlight and an ID tag. He fished out a capped inhaler and another still in a sealed box.

One agent opened a veracity program in a larger pad and plugged some sort of an attachment in a port. The other tested his tiny flashlight and then opened it up and examined the battery. He looked through the wallet and felt the edges and corners of it. When he exchanged a glance with the other agent, he stepped well back away from Kaleo to let the other approach.

“Would you touch the attached sensor flat on my pad, please?”

Running was obviously pointless. They were alternating proximity to him in case he turned violent and had the ship’s security officers as backup. Even if he escaped the room, they were in the middle of the ocean away from land. What would be the point of terminating his mission by diving over the rail? He’d try to brazen it out.

He touched the small ceramic square and the agent again stepped back cautiously.

“Kaleo Kaleo? How odd. But Jonus is an alias,” The agent declared. “You are Hawaiian and not Panamanian.” He didn’t comment on that but the other agent stepped close again and picked up the inhaler.

“For what sort of medical condition is this?” he asked.

“I have some minor allergies,” Kaleo said. “Mostly things that would bother me ashore but occasionally some cleaning products make me wheeze and it helps that.”

“The agent running the veracity software made a rocking motion with his hand and told his partner, “A weak response.”

“Suck a shot of it down,” the agent demanded tossing it to him.

Kaleo shook it vigorously a few times as he’d seen others do. He tilted his head back and squeezed off a shot while he inhaled.

“Why a second one?” the agent asked. He picked up the sealed box and read the pharmacy label on it.

“The old one is down to the last twenty-some squirts. I don’t use it every day but I’d hate to not have one at all. It can be rough working or sleeping if something is bothering me and I don’t have one. I’m not sure the ship’s doctor could replace it.”

The agent looked skeptical and ripped open the sealed end flap on the box. Kaleo finally lost it and grabbed for the box. They both clawed at it trying to get control. The little Mylar bag inside flew out and skittered across the floor straight to the other agent. He had both hands on his pad that he didn’t want to drop so he lifted the front of his foot pivoting on the heel and pegged the bag hard to the deck before it passed him.

The end of the bag opened with a >POP< and the plastic spray head flew out with a little cloud of vapor.

Kaleo sat back down hard and stared at them google-eyed all resistance gone in an instant and his mouth hanging open.

His reaction was so extreme nobody spoke right away. The agent with the pad looked at it and didn’t like what he saw.

“You fools have killed us all,” Kaleo said.

“Ninety-eight percent veracity,” the agent read off the pad.

“What was in it?” his partner asked.

“I don’t know ,” Kaleo said. “If they’d told me, it might have helped you counter it. But it was only supposed to be released in North America if you wiped out the islands. If you failed to do that, you’d have been safe, but no, you had to be in control , didn’t you? All for nothing now.”

“A disease then,” the one with the pad said.

“Yes,” Kaleo agreed. “That’s why I asked for shore leave in Miami.”

“But there would be nothing containing it at our borders,” the agent objected. “Nor could you escape releasing it. Unless you have immunity?”

“No,” Kaleo said and just shrugged, indifferently. “To hell with them. They have never treated my people decently. The haole brought every sort of disease to us .”

The agent looked at his pad but said nothing. What do you say to suicidal fanaticism and depraved indifference?

“Should I call the ship’s doctor?” the purser asked.

Kaleo shook his head no. “This room is ventilated,” he said nodding at the grill high on the bulkhead. “It’s already in the ducts. Even if you left the door shut and told them to abandon ship, there would be carriers in the lifeboats.”

The lead agent slowly pulled a slim automatic pistol out and raised it to Kaleo.

“Please, and in fairness, I suggest you save a round for yourself.”

He thought about it and holstered the weapon.

“Well,” the purser said punching a speed dial on his desk phone. “No matter if it is a disaster, one is still obligated to inform the captain.”

He put it on the speaker so nobody could question his shirking his duty or trying to cover anything up later.

* * *

“I find I’m not as trusting as I’d like to be,” Vic admitted. “I think about how much effort went into recovering this gold and I’m reluctant to send it off to some stranger.”

“We did business like that a lot more before The Day,” Eileen reminded him. “We ordered stuff online a lot. At least my folks did. I was too young but they talked about it.”

“Yes, and I got burned a few times getting knock-off crap instead of genuine items. But you are right,” Vic admitted. “I learned how to avoid those sorts of sellers. Dealing with locals who you know turns out to be much less stressful. I’d sort of forgotten.”

“If they want your continued business the refiner has every incentive to treat you correctly. Picking one who has been in business for years helps. It seems unlikely they will risk their reputation by randomly cheating a new customer. An ounce and a half may seem like a lot to you but it’s probably a small transaction to them.”

“Yep. It’s a necessary risk. If we do get treated badly, I’ll have to do the same all over again with somebody else because we need to have our funds in spendable form. The fellow I talked to on the phone seemed a decent sort and had no problem holding over the fractional excess on our account after sending us a bullion coin. I kind of regret not declaring Texan citizenship yet. We could have just had him deposit it to our Chase account if I’d made up my mind.”

“You’re rambling to delay,” Eileen accused him. “Seal it up because Tommy will be here soon to go to Mast’s. We might not get another easy chance to send it until he’s our regular mail carrier. Surely, they’ll get that going before the Fall Fair?”

“He seems confident they will,” Vic said. “The other Texans are waiting for more bikes too. And Arlo’s guys. The federal cop is supposed to have a Ranger join him to interact with civilians, and they’ll get a four-wheeler. He thinks it’s crazy to try riding a bike in the winter.”

“In the radio news interview, Councilor Corey said he’s never seen snow except what we had left in ditches and the north sides of gullies when he got here. It’ll be a big shock to his system to deal with winter,” Eileen predicted.

“There’s not much for him to spend his money on here,” Vic said. “If they provide him transportation, he can go somewhere with palm trees when he gets a vacation.”

“I never thought we’d be talking about normal stuff like vacations again. How much longer before we have a gas station and a grocery store again?” Eileen asked.

“I don’t think it will be all that long,” Vic said. “I see it as part of the normalization they need to hold this territory they’ve seized. They can’t keep flying in supplies. Somebody has to be working at opening the roads and extending the logistics so their border checkpoints and forward military can be supplied cheaply.”

“That’s good. By the time we want to buy a lift ticket to Home maybe we can drive to where the shuttle is lifting.”

“Or take the bus, unless Alice is driving us to take the truck back home,” Vic joked.

“I had a learner’s permit when we headed north on The Day. Teaching Alice to drive is something I don’t want to think about,” Eileen said.

* * *

“He may be correct about it being in the vents but I’m activating the fire alarm for your ventilation section,” Captain Campbell told the purser. “Hold while I order that.”

An alarm sounded and the sigh of the ventilator that was so faint they weren’t aware before that they were hearing it died. Their ears popped and all of them swallowed to fix the uncomfortable feeling.

“This is your Captain speaking. We’ve found it necessary to shut down one vertical ventilation section. The fastest and easiest way to do that was to trip the fire alarm. However, we don’t have an active fire. We had a noxious chemical spill in the purser’s office and we will need to leave the fresh air off for an hour or two until we can clean that up. Those of you with portholes or balconies are welcome to use them.

“We’ll be switching over to outside air in that section so it isn’t going to be as cool as most of us would like. The outside temperature is twenty-nine degrees, eighty-four to those of you accustomed to the Fahrenheit scale.

“Please stay in your cabin or refrain from returning there until we call an all-clear to allow the crew to work in the corridors to isolate the section and set up fans for temporary ventilation. We’ll have access to the top play area and the all-night buffet and bar for you as soon as possible. Thank you for your cooperation.”

“There, I think you’ll be surprised how effective the system is,” Captain Campbell informed them from the purser’s phone. “We have filtration and UV sterilization on all the ductwork and put the sections fore and aft of your section at a higher positive pressure.”

“What about us ?” Allison, the security chief asked.

“Stay put and I’ll ask the ship’s doctor how to handle your situation,” Campbell promised. “I imagine he may need to call some specialists so it may be a couple of hours. If you have the materials, it would be good to cover your ventilation grills so the system doesn’t have to deal with an ongoing leakage. I’ll get back to you.”

“He hung up?” Allison asked.

“Yes, but I can ring him back up if you weren’t finished,” the purser offered.

“No, I wanted to make sure he wasn’t still listening. I want to speak freely and I can’t do that with the captain listening. Our interests may not coincide now.”

“The interests of our company and guests are more important than the interests of the captain. I’d be sad to find out any of us is putting our own interest above those,” the purser said.

“I’d agree,” Allison said, “but I’d like to know some value is placed on our survival if it doesn’t endanger the ship and passengers.”

Kaleo was amazed how such an intelligent professional could thoroughly reject the near certainty of his death and argue silly hypotheticals.

The purser’s phone buzzed and he warned he was putting it on speaker again.

“Purser’s office.”

“John, we have some maintenance people putting supplies outside your door and building an airlock arrangement,” Captain Campbell said. “Please remain sealed up to protect those workers. I’ll call when you can pull those supplies in.”

“Aye, sir. We won’t expose them,” John promised. Campbell hung up because the line light went off on the purser’s desk phone.

There was some noise outside to indicate they were working but it was almost three hours before the captain called again and told them to pull in their supplies. When they opened the door there was a stack of institutional-sized canned goods, a can opener, and a generous pile of toilet paper. They had six blankets and pillows as well as a few towels and the sort of little soaps and shampoo room service provided. Another box held carry-out bowls and plastic utensils. What dismayed Allison was there was a solid barricade across the passageway on both sides.

“He lied. An airlock has two doors,” Allison said. “They simply sealed us in here.”

“Let me ask what he intends,” the purser said. He returned to his desk and punched up the captain on his speed dial again. He punched it a few more times.

“It doesn’t work,” John announced.

“Your speed dial to the captain?” Allison asked.

“No, I can’t get a line out at all.”

Allison pulled out his phone and thumbed something in.

“The WiFi is down too.”

“That seems… less than friendly,” his partner said.

Kaleo was the only one of them who seemed unconcerned. He was resigned to his fate.

* * *

“That’s it? April asked. “They look like clear peel and stick labels they forgot to print.”

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Jeff agreed. “This is with them shut down. They aren’t actively matching the texture and reflectivity of the surface beneath them. I can activate that from my spex. Watch.”

The two shiny credit card-sized rectangles on the sheet of paper just disappeared. April held it up to the lighting that ran around the edge of the compartment overhead and slowly rolled it, changing the angle of the light reflecting on the little spy bots. The shininess was gone but neither did the matte finish look any duller than the paper at any angle.

“I should be able to at least see the edge,” April objected.

“It tapers down to a knife edge,” Jeff said. “This shows up in infrared not just from the different material but because it uses electrical power. It doesn’t get hot but a sensitive imager will see a slight glow. We hope they don’t do a regular detailed scan inside for infrared anomalies or deploying these is a wasted effort.”

“But I don’t see any wires. Are they that thin or do they use something else?”

“I have no idea,” Jeff admitted. “These new bots are way beyond anything I could design. I didn’t ask for a lot of information because I didn’t want to spend the time it would take to understand the advances they’ve made in materials science. I have enough on my plate seeing our freighter built.

“They’ve gotten so good at defending against spy bots that we can’t get anything self-propelled and visible inside their secure facilities. Not that we won’t keep trying. But this will give us something until a future bot generation is created.”

“If they can’t move themselves, how will they get inside?” April asked.

“We’ll scatter them on the sidewalks and aircar landing areas for the VIPs. They can turn on a nano sticky surface on either face. If somebody steps on them, they attach and get taken inside. If conditions indicate they have been taken back outside they can drop off and a fly-by drone will collect their data. We can still get away with an outside fly-by.”

“Audio only?” April guessed.

“Yeah, they don’t have enough memory for video and we expect most of them to ride in on the sole of a shoe. It’s hard to take video from under a shoe.”

“I don’t know how this works either,” April admitted, “but it reminds me of an amoeba. I wonder if it couldn’t be made to extend something like a pseudopod with a camera to take at least a one-frame snapshot? That would be better than nothing.”

“I don’t know but for what we pay they can put up with an occasional stupid question.”

“You only have ninety-eight,” April pointed 0ut. “Where are you going to use them?”

“At the new White House,” Jeff said. “We would like some indication of how the very top policymakers think rather than their public statements. We’ll sow about a third of them at a time when the conditions like the wind are favorable.”

Heather was so silent you might wonder if she was following this but perked up.

“What if they privately believe all the garbage they spout?” she asked.

“Then I suppose it’s still better we know,” Jeff said but he looked horrified at the idea.

April had that serious introspective look Jeff knew.

“You seem to have a thought,” Jeff said. “Is there a problem beyond lack of video?”

“Not with this,” April assured him. “I just flashed on the idea we need to have some way to deliver spy-bots on the Martians. You could send the data up to the new moonlet we’re creating. It’s been weeks since they said something stupid.”

Jeff nodded. “I understand that’s something parents learn is a problem. When their offspring in the other room grow silent. I’ll start working on a solution. I’ll ask Jan to identify suppliers shipping support to Mars. Perhaps we can infiltrate and add bots to their loads. Don’t expect anything too quickly. It will probably not be possible until the Sandman makes another supply run to Mars.”

“ If they do,” April said. “The Europeans are rather divided on supporting them. Of course, if they refuse it will be even more exciting. Who would pay for and conduct an evacuation? Even if the Martians would agree and cooperate.”

“If they threaten to abandon them, I’ll announce I’m going to set up our own base and claim the middle latitudes once they leave or die out. That should rally them to support them just to keep it out of my hands,” Jeff said.

“It’s crazy but I think that would work,” April agreed.

* * *

“Hello? I’m trying a new frequency. Is anybody listening to this damn thing?”

A young man in a glaring white uniform appeared on the screen. He regarded the older gentleman on camera with suspicion. Hoax calls and calls from drunks were not unknown. The old man did have what looked like a ship’s bulkhead behind him but he had disheveled hair, needed a shave, and had on a civilian shirt that looked slept in.

The young officer didn’t identify himself immediately but the name tag on his chest said, Vickers.

“Sir, you are broadcasting on a frequency used for maritime emergency and rescue in the USNA Virgin Islands. Your statement seems to indicate you are unfamiliar with the equipment and hunting for a response. You can’t keep calling on this frequency if you don’t have a valid emergency. Do you have someone else qualified to operate your radio?”

“I don’t have a radioman but I do have one hell of an emergency,” the old boy said. “I’m aboard the Majestic cruise ship Crown Jewel . I’m an old sailor so it woke me last night when the ship made an abrupt course change to starboard and slowed down. I didn’t think enough of it to get up and see if there were any messages on our room screen.

“This morning when I woke up my wife was complaining she didn’t feel well. She wanted some sort of flu or cold medicine to relieve the symptoms and said she’d just stay in and sleep some more. Nobody answered for service so I went out to see why and get her stuff. I did finally see a crewman but he saw me and ran from me. There was a nasty sour odor too. Then I started finding the bodies. They were so bloody I thought they were attacked but there were no wounds. I made my way up here and am in a little compartment off the bridge. The hatch was unlocked. I didn’t break in. I guess this is the radio room though it isn’t labeled.

“The bridge crewmen are all dead and the screens say we’re headed east-north-east at six knots. There’s a big GPS screen running on the bridge but nothing except open water around us on it and no charts. I don’t even see a chart table, just screens. I can’t picture where the longitude and latitude in the corner of the screen would put us. I’m not about to touch anything I don’t understand. This boat may be on autopilot and I’ll screw up something somebody set up with good reasons. Do you have any idea where we are?”

“Sir, I’ll have to get another bearing to get your exact location if you don’t go get the numbers off the screen, but your signal is from our northeast. You should be clear of any land ahead of you and headed into the Atlantic.”

The old man closed his eyes and wiped his uncombed hair back from his forehead like he had a headache.

“Maybe they did that to avoid releasing this sickness on a port. I can’t say that wouldn’t be a smart thing to do. Everything seemed fine last night after supper. I’ve never heard of anything that makes you sick this fast. But it will make it hard for anybody to help those still alive. Shit… I don’t feel so hot myself,” he said.

The Coasty watched him look confused. He appeared to try to articulate something more and couldn’t. Then two bloody tears trailed down the man’s cheeks from the inside corner of each eye. He slowly toppled backward out of sight.

* * *

“Mr. Foy,” the text message said, “you have a small package at the postal will call in the new Texan complex opposite the fairgrounds on County Rd. A14. It will be held for ninety days or you may designate someone to pick it up for you.” - Edward Stafford, interim postmaster.

“Mr. Stafford, you may release this and future mail to Mr. Mast your neighbor across the road. We are friends and business associates. He can forward it to me until you start local delivery services or hold it until I can pick it up. Would you please confirm your postal rates in our remote area are the same as Texas proper and what postal code we will use?” – Victor Foy 1163 Lake Loop Road.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 18

“I have a buyer for you,” Chen said. “He called Heather but tied April and Jeff in too.

“You look like the cat that swallowed the canary,” Heather said.

“I’m pleased because I not only found a cash buyer but if you don’t want to hold a bunch of rubles, they will do trades part or whole in kind. You can get copper, nickel, chromium, or palladium. Just about anything they produce if you ask nicely, I imagine.

“How much are they willing to buy?” Jeff asked.

“Twenty tons this year and at least as much next year. Their fiscal year runs the same as the calendar year,” Chen said. “We agreed on ninety-five percent of Hong Kong spot at the open and close averaged the next day, which is today.”

“Wow, I may have to build some more French mills,” Heather said.

“You may want to because I have others showing interest. They just didn’t commit.”

“How do we deliver?” Jeff worried. “I don’t want a repeat of Honolulu.”

“That’s the best part. They wish you to hold it segregated in deep lunar storage on account in the Solar Bank. They informed me Central is considered more secure than any Earth repository.”

“It is, but I’m surprised they will acknowledge that,” Jeff said.

Chen looked amused.

“Off the record, the chairman of their central bank told me Heather’s personal integrity was a bigger factor than the physical security. He said your history indicated you would never confiscate it because of a shift in the political winds. I was careful to point out they should be very sure of who was authorized to withdraw the gold because you’d be rigid about following those terms too.”

“Of course,” Jeff said like it surprised him that needed said. It made Heather smile to see him indignant for her.

“He said when you have the bullion separated, they will send a man to stamp the bars and exchange tokens for authentication.”

“I’ll have a separate tunnel section cut for the Russians alone and leave sufficient room for future expansion,” Heather said.

“That all works for me,” Jeff agreed. He’d work the deal hands-on through their bank.

Heather looked thoughtful.

“I am disposed to leave more of the sales in rubles rather than take all the payment in other metals. They seem to be seeking a closer relationship. We should reward that and it gives us flexibility in what we need months from now. Advise me,” Heather ordered.

Chen wisely decided she was addressing her peers and he should be silent unless she demanded his opinion by name.

“It seems just and balanced,” Jeff said. “They are still extending the greater trust.”

“Rubles aren’t depreciating crap like euromarks,” April said. “Why not? We’ll probably get other currencies to deal with if Chen’s buyers prove out.”

“You can tell their agent to open a ruble account for Central,” Heather told Chen. “We will give the official sent to stamp the bars our withdrawal and transfer authorizations. Oh, and well done.”

* * *

Mike Morse had been around the barn a time or two even in good times. A Chicago boy, he dabbled in this and that when it was possible to make an honest living in the city or at least the suburbs. Selling real estate or printing he very much preferred to work for himself. With a little maturity, he did stints as a bail bondsman and private investigator.

When the city population crashed and the cost to do business got to the point it didn’t make sense anymore, he didn’t argue. He certainly didn’t fight city hall. He moved to Florida. The pizza business was easier to get into in a new town, much steadier, and the customers easier to deal with than his old clients in Illinois. That lasted for years until supply problems and growing automation made him consider where he was going to be in four or five years. He sold while there was still a market for the business.

Semi-retired, he was known by a lot of people as somebody who could arrange things for you. If you needed a package taken to Denver without involving a package service, Mike always knew somebody in the car rental business or a trucker who, if not going to Denver, was headed that way and knew somebody who knew somebody…

If you needed some 2x4s to do a repair or remodel a historic house but couldn’t afford $45 each to cut down the new metric-sized boards, Mike could find somebody to rip them out of an old place scheduled for demolition. All the new regulations about mold treatments of framing lumber and testing any building materials used before 2043 for heavy metals meant a repurposed stud would cost more than a new one. Mike never broke the law. He didn’t install an uncertified stud. As far as he knew you were going to use them for firewood or fence posts and he didn’t want to hear any differently. He still made sure they weren’t flood-stained or covered with black mold.

It helped fund his retirement when it was hard to keep up on a fixed income and it gave him something to do. The successor to Social Security, Negative Income Tax, had so many rules and qualifications it tied you to one state and often one county. You’d have multiple agencies all snooping into your business, eager to reduce the rolls. The younger generation didn’t seem to mind that, especially the ones who’d never lived any other way than on the negative tax. For an old curmudgeon used to traveling where and when he wished, it grated to fill out a request to travel out of state or have random residence verifications.

He was having breakfast at his favorite diner when a much younger fellow sat at the counter beside him. The man ordered before he turned and spoke. “You’re Mr. Morse, aren’t you?”

“That depends,” he said looking the fellow over. Nothing about him shouted cop. “Most people who call me ‘Mr.’ think I’m going to pay them for something. I much prefer the ‘Hey, good morning, Mike,’ from people who know they’ll need to pay me .”

“Then, hey, good morning, Mike,” the guy said and smiled.

“In that case, yes, I’m Morse and the day is definitely looking up. Do you have a name you want to use?”

“Pete is fine. I was told you used to be a private investigator and a bondsman. Is that fact or is it just a wild rumor?”

“Many moons ago in Illinois, it was true. I’m not licensed in Florida and I don’t miss the work or the charming people I met in those professions.”

“I’ve never worked at that myself,” Pete assured him. “I was more interested in the skill set that I imagine goes with them. I have some objects I’ll need picked up and transported to a new area and released on a schedule. I need somebody free to travel without switching their negative tax region or asking for a travel variance. Somebody who knows how to be discreet and how cops think so they aren’t stopped and searched. Or who isn’t going to make a target of themselves to be robbed. An old guy who can come up with plausible reasons to be just about anywhere.

“I can do the crazy old guy or obsessed hobbyist who you just want to get away from because he’ll lecture you on it. But I stay on the right side of the law. I won’t carry drugs or other nasty stuff because I disapprove of them personally . Where are these things to be picked up and dropped off?”

When the waitress refilled their coffee Pete waited to speak.

“Pickup of three small drones in Kansas, taken to Washington on the west coast and released on three occasions when the weather is suitable. I’m told you are intelligent enough to follow directions and too damn honest to just take my money and disappear.”

“Well, that is very bad for repeat business,” Mike said. “Word will get around on that faster than anything good you do.”

He thought about it.

“Washington is far away and I have a little commuter car that runs on alcohol. I’d need better transportation or enough pay to buy my own. The northwest still gets pretty chilly at night this time of year,” Mike said thoughtfully. “I don’t want to camp out or sleep in my vehicle and I’ll need traveling money.”

“I can supply you a stretch van with a road tax sticker and a business permit to buy diesel. The weather I can’t do anything about. In the Northwest, it’ll be bone-chilling cold and then the next day it’s suddenly summer and so hot you can’t stand that either.”

“Ah, you’ve been up there I see. What sort of people do I have to deal with to do this pickup?” Mike asked. “How safe are they?”

“That’s the beauty of it,” Pete said smiling again. “You go to the right GPS location and they will fall out of the sky at your feet.”

Mike was usually poker-faced but that left him blinking in amazement.

“Do you know where they are coming from?”

“I do but it’s better for you not to know,” Pete insisted, “not where or who. ”

“Probably,” Mike agreed. “They could read it off me even if it’s not admissible.”

“The plus side is they aren’t technically illegal. But if a cop thought they were unusual, he might cover his butt by grabbing them and you so somebody else could be responsible. But I’m told most people looking at the payload would simply think they are clear labels for gang printing. You will see that much so I can tell you.”

“This is interesting enough to do if it pays halfway decently,” Mike admitted.

“I’m flexible on pay. I can give you an irrevocable Visa for travel expenses. The kind that can’t be seized and drained in forfeiture by local cops. You can take your pay on that, USNA dollars in used bills, or gold.”

“Gold is too chancy and hard to hide,” Mike said.

“No need. It can be supplied as wedding rings and neck chains. Perfectly legal.”

Mike appeared to be thinking about it. The fact Pete was talking about multiple rings and necklaces on top of the card indicated it would be a very good payday.

“And I’ll pay for breakfast,” Pete said to nudge him.

“You know how to close don’t ya? OK, I’m in,” Mike agreed.

* * *

Head of Intelligence Morton appeared at Prime Minister Tanaka’s office door.

“How long since this place has been swept?” Morton demanded.

“Aloha to you too,” Tanaka said to remind him of his manners.

“If you’ve been out of the room since the last check, come walk with me.”

“It’s been more like three days,” Tanaka admitted. “I haven’t been doing anything I wouldn’t shout out the window.” Nevertheless, he walked Morton out and told his secretary, Tim, he didn’t know when he’d be back.

“Dibs on your desk chair if it’s forever,” he said. It was a long-standing jealousy but tongue in cheek. It was a very nice chair.

“You won’t have a job if it’s forever,” Tanaka pointed out.

“I’ll take it home,” he assured him. “A perfect cap to all the rubber bands and paper clips I’ve liberated to supplement my meager salary.”

“I wish Tim wouldn’t talk like that,” Morton said. “Humorless idiots will blow it up into a real charge of theft and public corruption.”

“Keeping me sane with silly banter is the most useful thing he does. If it wasn’t for that and the big pistol he keeps in his top drawer I could run the rest of it off a good social secretary program. Is this far enough?” Tanaka asked when they were outside.

“No, I want us off the property,” Morton insisted.

“Shit… that means it is going to be very bad news.”

They walked to Morton’s car and he held the door for his boss.

“So, what is the crisis?” he asked in the car.

“I left the car unattended. It could be compromised. Just hold your horses,” Morton insisted and at the next intersection turned makai – towards the sea.

“Worse and worse,” Tanaka muttered.

Morton parked at the beach, put an ‘on official business’ card on the dash, and tossed his shoes and phone in the trunk. He was in khakis and his shirt hanging out. A suit just made you visible being as common as a cow in the choir box.

“The beach will be safe,” he assured Tanaka.

“I don’t know. I bet those clothes have been hanging unattended in your closet and not scanned for bugs. Maybe you better strip down to your bare butt just to be safe. It’s legal now on the beach you know.”

“And wouldn’t I catch a few looks with my pistol strapped on naked? I’m on duty alone with the Prime Minister and would be negligent to leave it.”

Tanaka looked around. There was a group party a hundred meters down the beach and a couple of ten-year-old boys in baggy trunks running along the hard sand by the water. It looked pretty sparse for assassins to him but try to tell Morton that.

“I guess this is as good as we can do then unless you want to wade out?”

“Kaleo didn’t call his mama and report in last night,” Morton said.

Tanaka screwed his face up in pain. It wasn’t put on, it was real.

“You may now say you told me so,” he allowed Morton.

“Damn it, Tan, do you think I get any pleasure out of this?”

“No, but you really should tell me. It will be a cathartic cleansing. It will just fester if you don’t get it off your chest.”

“I did tell you so,” Morton said as instructed. “It would have been better if he was carrying around one of those nuclear bombs. They at least have a limited blast radius. You assumed the plague would never be released unless we were all dead and gone. Reality is the sum of one improbable event after another. There were a thousand ways that the virus could be released. It was too dangerous to create because even in a class five locked down facility idiot people still manage to release them. Now we have to face this thing being loose on the world.”

“There, you should feel better,” Tanaka said.

Morton wouldn’t admit that, but his body language said it was a release.

“Are you sure it isn’t something as simple as the ship losing its satellite link or having electrical problems?” Tanaka asked.

“The ship turned toward the open ocean, cut its speed way down, and turned off its locating beacon. That much, the cruise company has released. I assume there is much more. We had other phone numbers to call aboard and none answered.”

“They should have cut the ID transmission before revealing their course,” Tanaka said.

“Whoever did it probably had a high fever, was bleeding out, and not thinking clearly. It was a heroic act to do that much. It would have been more likely for them to continue aimed approximately at Miami, not made the turn toward shore, and continued until they were swept north by the gulf current until they ran aground somewhere along the coast. Anywhere from northern Florida to North Carolina.”

“Go, right now, and talk to Naito. He should be at his offices near us but call ahead and ask. He has flown with that Spacer, Singh. He’s been up there and may have his ear. Perhaps he can talk the man into fixing our screw-up. Call Tim from the car and have him ask Naito to receive you at his offices soonest.”

“Not your offices?” Morton asked.

“You’d have to go through removing him all over again just like you did me. He should be much less of a target for spying. Or take him for a walk too, if you think otherwise.”

“I will. If this gets out, your administration is finished,” Morton warned him. “Maybe everybody associated with you above the clerks and janitors.”

“I’ve already figured out I’m ruined. If you want, I’ll look out to sea and you can shoot me in the back of the head. That might be sufficient to satisfy the public of your purity to slay the monster who ordered this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Morton said. “I’m not giving you the easy way out.”

* * *

“We have no communications with our agents on the Crown Jewel ,” the FBI director, Bill Snyder, reported to the head of Homeland Security.

“How long and otherwise what is the ship’s status?” Prescott asked.

“No contact since early yesterday. They were going to meet with the ship’s security people at the purser’s office and interview a Panamanian in food service who seemed a bit hinky. His face scan was ambiguous and they had a possible genome to match if he was an agent. The ship itself went silent before dawn and turned toward the open ocean. By silent, I mean turned off their ID beacon besides not answering radio or phones aboard.”

“You think this is the release of their threatened bio-weapon?”

“An early release. Their next port of call was Miami. Our suspect may have released it when confronted, if unable to do so on USNA territory. I got a satellite pass done while I was on the way over. Let me show you.” Snyder offered.

The ship looked fine until you zoomed close enough to see the bodies on the decks. Mercifully, it wasn’t sharp enough to show details below two centimeters resolution. Even at that, some of the figures showed darkened faces or stained decks beside them.

“In which case, we owe them a huge debt of gratitude, even if it wasn’t a deliberate strategy to force him to release it at sea,” Prescott said.

“I’d feel a lot more gratitude if they recovered it without releasing it,” Snyder said. “It probably won’t help for it to be a limited release on the ship if she runs ashore or they put rescue teams on her. It will be loose on the world. The whole world,”

“It needs to be vaporized to remove any threat. Just sinking it isn’t enough. There could be artifacts float free and wash up to infect a beachcomber a thousand kilometers away.”

“That takes national command authorization all the way up to the president. There will be people opposed to nuking a foreign-flagged vessel no matter how many will die.

“Then we better get started on it,” Prescott said.

* * *

Mike Morse was in Kansas and driving late at night, which he didn’t like. He was well away from any town in the middle of seemingly endless fields. Some were showing early crops he couldn’t identify. Most of the farmhouses were empty, the owners having sold out to huge mega-farms. The new owners saw no urgency about tearing them down for the little extra acreage they’d get. Some were visibly well on their way to falling down. So, there was no traffic and nobody to note a strange vehicle passing by. The police didn’t patrol now unless called. Almost nobody lived on these county roads and fuel was too dear to drive around looking at cornfields during the day, much less at night.

Why didn’t they drop his package closer to his destination? Mike wondered irritably. Probably because the coasts were heavily guarded and any small object falling on Kansas corn fields would be assumed harmless. He figured that out for himself.

The GPS told Mike the next intersection was the place he was instructed to pick up his load. He stopped at his yield sign and inspected the road signs. They matched but there was no package visible. He was ten minutes early and a stopped vehicle was more suspicious than a moving one, so he did a sweeping U-turn in the intersection and drove three kilometers back the way he’d come. Reversing in a field access carefully he approached the intersection again and pulled over where the shoulder was wider in front of the yield sign.

He had a powerful spotlight if he needed to hunt for it. If it landed out in the fields it would be a difficult hunt and trespassing. It was still thirty seconds early but he took his light and walked into the crossroads. Nothing showed in the beam either way.

A noise made him turn around. There was a half-meter-long black box in the center of the intersection with a gossamer black parachute still collapsing to one side. As he watched, the box tipped on its side, and a cylinder rolled out. Immediately, a mechanism reeled the parachute in and a clear plastic balloon started inflating. It soon lifted the box, still expanding. The wind was slight but it carried the delivery vehicle away over one of the fields.

Mike tracked it with his spotlight until suddenly the box part hanging vanished in an orange flash. The balloon above, unencumbered, rose faster but it also vanished with a blue flame. There was a report from the orange detonation but the balloon was a silent flash.

He walked over and tapped the cylinder tentatively but it wasn’t hot. It was exactly in the middle of both roads. Mike looked at the stars overhead and shouted, “Show off!” before he took the cylinder and headed west to find a cheap motel.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 19

“Yo, the house. Titus here.”

Eileen went to the door and checked to make sure he was alone.

“Come in, Titus. Put your stuff by the door and sit at the table while I finish cooking. Vic is in the barn. I suggest you just let him finish up and come to supper. You’re not going to get his full attention until he’s finished. There’s a hot kettle on the back of the stove and a local tea mix in the jar with the mugs. Make your own if you want.”

“That sounds good, thank you. I have a postal package Mr. Mast was holding as your agent. He asked me to drop it off on my way back home.”

Titus put a small cardboard box that would just fit in his back jeans pocket on the table before he made his tea.

“How is it addressed?” Eileen asked. She didn’t want to dirty her hands with it.

“To both of you, ma’am,” Titus said.

“You don’t have to ma’am me,” Eileen objected.

“I thank you, but I’d like to leave it like that as long as it’s Mr. Foy or sir with Vic.”

“I can see how that would help you be consistent,” Eileen agreed.

“Respect for you is counted as respect for him too,” Titus said. “At least I think he’d take it that way and it feels right to me too.”

When Eileen just nodded, he added. “It isn’t begrudged, ma’am. You’re not as old as Vic, but you are a married woman running a household and I’m barely past being a kid.”

“That’s fine then,” Eileen agreed and saw him relax.

Alice came in and said, “Hi Titus,” like he was there all the time. “What can I do?” she asked Eileen.

“Set plates and bowls for everyone, Titus included.”

“Thank you,” Titus said.

Alice went around the table and set each place. She finished at Titus’s seat and put her free hand on his shoulder to lean in and put his things in front of him. He didn’t seem to mind. Eileen managed to keep a smile off her face. Alice wouldn’t have toppled over without bracing herself. Task done she topped off the hot water in his mug.

Vic came in and didn’t seem surprised to see Titus. He greeted him friendly enough. He picked up the package and read the address label but set it on the shelf by the tea.

“Thank you for bringing that,” he told Titus. But he didn’t show any inclination to open it and his women didn’t urge it either. Titus was disappointed.

“I was doing some, uh… welding in the barn. I have solar capacity sitting unused most days. I was thinking about that while I worked and just about decided it would make sense to get one of those power stations with a built-in inverter. It would be expensive to have flown in but the Texans aren’t charging us extra for postal delivery. That’s pretty generous since they are still flying things in too. They’re losing money on us for now.

“We have an old refrigerator in the barn that used to be used just for drinks and overflow when we’d have a BBQ. With summer coming it would be nice to have cold drinks and ice again.”

“It might save your life,” Eileen told him. “I can keep soup hot on the back of the stove in winter, but it sits overnight in the summer and doesn’t get reheated until breakfast. If it fails the sniff test it’s a waste we can ill afford, too.”

Eileen used potholders to put a big Dutch oven on the table. She served Vic potato and onion soup in chicken broth with a little bacon grease and finely chopped greens. She served Alice but went back for left-over cornbread and chopped hard-boiled eggs before serving herself.

Vic sprinkled eggs on his soup but Alice passed them on to Eileen. When she offered them to Titus, he tried some.

“I’ve never had diced eggs on soup,” he admitted. “I’m probably tasting the yolks. They go along very well.

“I miss cream in my potato soup,” Eileen said. “Chickens are enough trouble to manage, believe me. I can’t imagine keeping a milk cow or raising beef. We need all the protein we can get. Eggs store long enough to be useful. Chickens too for that matter. But we don’t keep enough to eat one more than once a week.”

“I know how to raise cattle,” Vic said. “The security situation is what is holding me back. I’m not sure we’re past where cattle rustlers would be a concern. We have to deal with mink and raccoon, but it would be a bold thief that would try to steal our chickens in full sight of the house.”

When he had his fill Vic pushed his bowl to the center of the table and looked at Titus.

“It’s late in the day and they expect rain tonight so it will be extra dark besides wet. You’re welcome to stay over and start in the morning after a hot breakfast. You can put your sleeping gear by the stove and we have an extra pad you can use. If you’re up in the night feel free to add some wood. We’ve no shortage.”

“I’d like that. I’m not on any schedule to check in, and thank you for the dinner.”

“If you have any news or gossip about the Texans and what they are up to across from Mast’s you’ve got time to tell us now,” Vic prompted him.

“The big news to me was that the Texans are going to send out two of those little dune buggy kind of scout cars with a Ranger and helpers. They will try to inspect all the county roads monthly. If anyone has law enforcement issues, they can flag them down or put a white cloth on their mailbox. That’s going to be announced on the radio soon.

“They’re also supposed to survey and decide where the final gang mailbox sites will be located. If they find any trees across the road, they’ll be taking a chainsaw. Anywhere there is heavy wash over the road or undercutting they are noting it for repair crews to repair them this summer.”

“That will be more work for locals,” Vic predicted. “I doubt that they will bring in Texans for public works jobs. Not unless we have a grocery store and some kind of clinic again. Even at that, it would be a hardship post.”

* * *

It was unusual to get a high-priority call from Chen. More so this late. Heather was almost ready for bed and had finished a good night call from April and Jeff who had business back at Home. They were already linked in when she answered the call and April had that slightly dazed look like she’d just gotten into a deep sleep and been yanked out of it.

“I was just sent the following video by a source I have in Cuba. It’s already loose on the news channels there. So far, I’ve confirmed the Coastie uniform is correct and there is a lieutenant Vickers but I don’t have a face match yet. The civilian didn’t identify himself and I have requests out to ID him. My gut feeling is it isn’t a fraud. Whoever leaked this is going to do some hard time. Watch it please.”

When the cruise passenger toppled backward off camera the video ended and didn’t show any response from Vickers. The response from the Three was shocked silence. Chen just let them process it for a moment without intruding on their thoughts.

Finally, Jeff asked, “What sort of hemorrhagic fever shows symptoms overnight?”

“Nothing natural,” Chen said, “but we don’t know when they were exposed. Most hemorrhagic viruses are characterized by a slow incubation. They were a full two days out of the Dominican Republic according to the video time stamp.”

“Any reports of illness at their last port?” Jeff asked.

“No, and I checked local news. I’m having some people call emergency room doctors but haven’t heard anything back.”

“Then it was released on the ship and engineered,” Jeff said.

“Probably,” was all Chen would admit. He’d only admit the sun might shine tomorrow.

“There’s also heightened activity in North America. Certain high officials that are too hard to bug, we still watch their residences. We saw lights going back on after bedtime and a few were picked up and taken to their offices early. The Texans did the same but starting about a half-hour after the video broke.”

“I have an urgent call request from Naito in Hawaii,” Jeff said. “What are the chances it can be anything else but this new mess if he thinks it’s urgent?”

“I’m not much of a betting man,” Chen said.

“I’ll go speak with him privately and let all of you know,” Jeff said.

“Tell me in the morning,” April requested and went back to bed.

Naito was waiting with his hands clutched in front of him looking distressed.

“Mr. Singh,” Naito said with obvious relief.

“What happened to Jeff?”

“This is official, not friendly, and formality seems appropriate,” Naito said. “I was asked to call because I know you and they were scared you might not answer their call. This is not a call I want to make.”

“Well, get it off your chest. Is this about the hemorrhagic fever on the cruise ship?”

Naito surprised him by showing his teeth in an angry grimace and pounding the counter in front of him twice with his fist. A display of anger that seemed entirely out of character for the Naito Jeff knew.

“They wouldn’t tell me what sort of disease it was,” Naito choked out. “Morton would only say it was bad, really bad. The idiots deployed it as a doomsday weapon to be released if the islands were devastated as thoroughly as the North Americans were threatening. Morton claims he was against it too, but of course, everybody is against something after it is a disaster. He wasn’t against it enough to resign and go to the press to stop this madness.”

“I’ll take that for a yes,” Jeff said.

Naito just nodded, too overcome with emotion to speak.

“Can you get yourself calm enough to tell me what you expect me to do about it?” Jeff asked. “Why are you calling me? We have nothing to do with either end of this. We can shut off Home and Central like we did for the flu and let you slaughter yourselves ‘til your heart’s content. We’re in a much better place to do that than before. We were just getting ready to buy a bunch of systems and materials from Earth but there will be much less need of that if your world is in chaos.”

Naito nodded, visibly composing himself taking deep breaths.

“We have no weapons systems that can reach the ship to correct our error. I can almost assure you the powers that can, like North America, are going to dither about and hesitate until it is too late or worse, try to put a rescue team aboard to see if anyone can be saved and to find out the exact nature of the disease. Just like my fools, they always think they can contain it. We need you to vaporize that ship beyond any possibility of the virus surviving on the wreckage and spreading.”

“Oh no. Hell no,” Jeff replied. “You want me to be your butcher boy when the Earthies already think I’m a monster.”

“Much more a monster not to stop it when you have the means,” Naito insisted. “Morton said this will kill a couple of billion people.”

“What’s the point of removing the ship when you still have a stock of the filthy thing there on your island?” Jeff asked. “Are you volunteering to be cleansed too?”

“I know that was sarcastic,” Naito said. “I don’t have the authority to ask it but I think that’s exactly what you should do and the sooner the better.” He looked utterly resigned and exhausted.

Jeff was shocked to the core that the man was calling fire down on his own position. They looked at each other for a moment in silence, thinking different thoughts.

“Do you know where they made this God-awful thing?” Jeff asked.

“The lab? Yes, it’s not a secret. They did do some good things they bragged about. You can easily find it online.

“Split your screen and show me on a map,” Jeff ordered.

Naito looked shocked and scared but complied.

“How soon?” Naito asked. There was only one reason for Jeff to ask.

“Who knows if your call is secure or if they have your place bugged? I’m setting it up now. I’m dialing my weapon yield down as far as I can. I’ve never done that but I’m guessing it might be as low as twenty-five megatons to fifty to the high end. Certainly, the blast radius will be sufficient that nobody is going to rush a sample of this virus to safety even if they are listening to us and try to remove it right now.”

He was typing away as he spoke. After he had it all entered, he lifted an index finger for the camera and hit enter dramatically.

“Six minutes,” Jeff said. “Damn you all for putting this on me to do. I’ll go locate the ship and destroy it now.” He cut off the call with no more pleasantries.

Chen was still waiting with the ongoing call. Heather was there too.

“Chen, I need to know the location of that ship within a half-kilometer or so. How long to get a location heading and speed?”

“Four or five minutes if it is on a commercial service. Twice as long if I need to have an optical search run.” He answered without needing to check and looked horrified by the certainty of what the request implied.

“Get it. It’s either that or risk them killing several billion people. They’ve already shown they don’t have the sense to not set this in motion. I can’t count on anybody down there having the will to clean up their own mess. They already hate me so they can just add this to the list of reasons why.”

“Here are the numbers,” Chen said after seven minutes. “It’s on me too now.”

Jeff nodded his acknowledgment of that but it didn’t make him feel any better.

Naito sat looking at the blank screen. If they asked later, he was determined not to deny locating the lab for Jeff. It was simply the right thing to do. They could shoot him or jail him if they wanted and that was just another black mark on their account. He might even consider going to Home if he was publicly reviled for his part in this and not just killed.

The lab was on the other side of the mountain and higher. The flash at the window was surprisingly bright reflected off the clouds. The ground wave when it reached him wasn’t as bad as he expected. It didn’t shake the house badly enough to break any windows. Nothing even fell off any of the shelves. He sat there at the com for a few more minutes. Half expecting it to light up with calls from his government. When they didn’t call, he decided he didn’t need to call them.

* * *

The head of the FBI was roused from his sleep by his secure phone on the nightstand doing a good imitation of an old-fashioned car alarm warbling. He opened it and stared at it squinty-eyed in the dark. It was his boss, Carl Prescott.

“We don’t have to worry about the Crown Jewel anymore, Bill.”

“Don’t have to worry about it because the idiot President sent the military aboard like he suggested or don’t have to worry because some survivor opened the sea cocks?”

“Don’t have to worry about it because a reentry vehicle in polar orbit dropped on it from the north and gave it a fractional gigaton love pat.”

That got him fully awake.

“That’s Singh’s signature move. He saved his Hawaiian buddies’ butts. They should send him flowers,” Snyder said.

“They may not be in the mood. There was a substantial nuke detonation high on the lee side of Oahu a few minutes before the ship got hit.”

“The lab,” Snyder said.

“One assumes so. I’m having that confirmed,” Prescott said.

“I take it back. We should send him flowers.”

“I’m sure your office has a discretionary fund for cards and flowers,” Prescott said amused. “Don’t ask me to sign it. He did us a favor but as an unintended consequence of serving his own purposes. The man is still a devil.”

Snyder wasn’t so sure but you don’t argue with your boss so he just nodded.

“Carry on,” Prescott said, ready to leave. “Remember, the Hawaiians still have the two nuclear devices. Since their greater threat proved true, I give that more credence. We can worry about that in the morning.” He disconnected before Snyder could thank him.

* * *

After breakfast was done and Titus left, Vic stayed and delayed his chores until they cleared the table so they could all open the post package. Eileen and Alice sat on each side and watched intently.

There was a number ten envelope folded over and a square of bubble wrap around a fold-over of self-sealing cardboard. Vis opened that first to find a single gold coin. It had some bagging marks but wasn’t worn. The face was all sorts of musical instruments and the obverse some sort of building. Vic passed that to Eileen and opened the letter reading it aloud.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Foy,

The 1.543 troy ounces of alluvial gold you sent us yielded 1.467 ounces. This is approximately a 95% yield and is typical for California fields. Generally, the finer the particle size the higher the percentage.

We don’t pay for separate silver and other metals extracted for submissions of less than 100 oz. It isn’t economical and we commingle all the byproduct of these small lots.

We pay as much as 93% of marked testable Karat gold but mined gold can go as low as 80% if it has quartz inclusions or black sands to remove. Your sample was quite clean and we are paying a 90% return on your 1.467 oz of 1.320 oz.

The Austrian Philharmonic coin sent was the lowest cost ounce coin in our inventory and we are charging you a 0.150oz fee for your requested payment in bullion coin. If you establish a bank or postal account denominated in gold, we can avoid those fees in the future. There are no shipping fees for any product of an ounce or more. We also have gold casting shot and milled forms if you are interested in those products.

We are carrying the 0.170oz as a credit available on your account. We do not pay interest on account balances below 10 oz. Above that, it is on a sliding scale.

Thank you for your business. We stand ready to serve you again.

Sincerely, Martha Bentley

“Well, I think they treated us well enough,” Vic said. “That’s a relief.”

Alice had the coin now and she seemed tickled with it.

“I didn’t know they’d make it so pretty. I’ve never held one before.”

“Then I’m glad I got it, but I’m going to declare Texan citizenship and open a postal savings account,” Vic declared. “It’s safer. If you want some coins for your share, we can order some, but I may even deposit this one.”

“No, this is special. Tell me when my share will cover it and I’ll keep this one.”

“Take it to keep now,” Vic said. “It won’t take all that long.”

* * *

There was a buzz indicating an incoming message and a tiny icon appeared in the corner of his screen. Jeff resented the intrusion late at night when he got his best work done. There weren’t enough people gene-modified for reduced sleeping hours to make businesses extend their operating hours, yet. However, the buzz was a middle priority signal and if he ignored it, he would have it lurking in the background of his thoughts, wondering what it was, ruining his concentration.

Jeff slapped the receive key and growled, “Yes?” He immediately felt bad because it was Eric Pennington and his gruff greeting put him off.

“Pay no attention,” Jeff told him, “I’m just in a mood.”

“I have a delivery for you, tagged rush. Where are you tonight?”

That was a reasonable question. Jeff might be in any of three residential addresses or off in a couple of zero g locations.

“I’m up and working in my office since my employee is off to the Moon right now.”

“Be there in twelve minutes,” Eric promised.

Eric ran several small businesses including a courier service but insisted on personally making any deliveries to Jeff or his ladies. They had objected he needn’t do that at one time but now the security benefits outweighed not wanting to inconvenience Eric. He probably got up from a sound sleep to make this delivery. They would make sure he was rewarded appropriately and be glad of his service.

The door signal went off right on time.

“House, open the door for Eric,” Jeff commanded from his chair.

The House was sophisticated enough to tell him if it wasn’t Eric.

He had a large bundle of flowers in a cone-shaped wrapper.

“Is there a card or anything?” Jeff asked. Once Eric had been paid to sing Happy Birthday with the flowers. That was weird. Birthdays were for children.

“A verbal message but anonymous,” Eric said. “ Thanks for the intervention . Did you help set a friend back on the straight and narrow recently?”

“No, nothing like that. These had to cost eight or ten thousand bucks Australian to send them from the Moon when you add in bumping priority freight and your fees,” Jeff said.

“I think it may mean something that they are lilies,” Eric said. “I remember ads on Earth selling flowers for different celebrations. Do a search on flowers for all occasions.

“Easter and funerals?” Jeff said. If there was a link it was evading him.

“Do you have any especially religious friends or did someone die?” Eric asked.

Jeff got a look of horror on his face.

“You don’t follow the Earth news closely, do you?” Jeff asked.

“No, there aren’t enough hours in the day for productive things and it’s mostly drivel and propaganda,” Eric said with a sour expression.

“I sank a ship filled with a gene-engineered disease,” Jeff said. “I have no idea if anyone was still alive aboard but it would have killed many more if it docked anywhere. I had to do it but I certainly wouldn’t celebrate it by sending flowers.”

“There are some sick puppies down there,” Eric said.

* * *

“I can’t start to tell you what a debt Hawaii owes you, Naito.”

“Prime Minister, I do not wish Hawaii or you to feel indebted. If there is any favor upon which I can draw I would ask you not to interfere if I decide to go to Home. I did what I had to with no good choices available. I’m sickened I had to…”

“Stop,” Tanaka said.

Naito found himself looking at Tanaka’s palm thrust at him forcefully.

“I, we, do not want to know what deals you had to make with the devil to correct my error. If you flee to Home some people will assume it is from a guilty conscience or worse, criminal liability. That would be a shame because I believe you are headed for bigger things serving Hawaii. Perhaps my office sooner than you expect.”

“I don’t consider myself experienced enough to handle your office. I wouldn’t have the respect and ear of people who expect some gray at your temples to show you have a measure of maturity,” Naito protested.

Tanaka waved all that away with a disgusted expression.

“Too many can have a full head of white hair and have never grown up. You’ve demonstrated integrity and if you have another office or two on the way to being Prime Minister the experience would do you good. I’m going to step down and let another government be formed very soon. I’ll be delighted if they allow me to quietly retire without prosecuting me. Unfortunately, I will probably drag down several others with my temper who have served better than me. You don’t have to be one of them. You have done an exemplary job and are far enough removed from the bad decision-making that none of the blame should stick to you. I can’t think of a single way that you facilitated it.”

“No, I’d have objected,” Naito assured him.

“Go back to work,” Tanaka said. “Seriously consider staying long enough to at least see how things play out. I won’t call you for anything that requires our public appearance together and I suggest you find reasons to avoid meetings where you know I will be. I’ll instruct my people not to notice that or object. It won’t be for long, unfortunately, for me.”

“Thank you, and thank you for all the work you did furthering the revolution.”

“I’m glad we accomplished that,” Tanaka admitted. “Revolutionaries aren’t always the best people to govern after they have seized power. Think carefully about who you lend your support to after I leave.”

“I will,” Naito promised.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 20

“Why Mr. Jabu, I confess I haven’t thought of you lately. I never inquired how your interview with me before was received. Did it work to your benefit?” Jeff asked.

Jabu was a bit taken aback by being aggressively counter-interviewed but he was pleased such a prominent person seemed genuinely interested.

“It has worked very well for me locally,” Jabu said. “My editors when faced with an intimidating subject will now say, ‘Send Jabu. He isn’t scared of anyone.’ On a wider scale, other news organizations condemn me for giving you a platform and said I’d treat with the Devil.”

“Professional jealousy,” Jeff judged that. “You got the story and they didn’t. What are we chatting about today?”

“Once again, there is widespread speculation in the press and defense publishers that the large detonation in the South Atlantic was your fault. You’ve been more than forthright in the past so I wonder if you’d care to comment on that?”

“Yes, that was my decision and action but I wouldn’t characterize it as a fault. It was a public service that was gut-wrenching to do but necessary. It targeted a plague ship that if allowed to dock anywhere, or if an ill-advised rescue boarding was attempted, could have killed billions.”

“That leads to my next intended question,” Jabu said. “Is this related to the video circulating purporting to be an exchange between a cruise ship passenger and the USNA Coast Guard?”

“The very same,” Jeff agreed. “The ship was the Crown Jewel . Some brave soul turned the ship away from a course that would have taken it to North America and aimed it out into the Atlantic. They probably did that while deathly ill and gave us time to understand the danger and act. We found out those details after the fact. I could have refused to act, but my experience with Earth politicians is that they will stop and dither about, pondering how this is going to affect their image, their next election, or their stock portfolio, instead of considering if it is the moral thing to do. The danger being they will dilly-dally until it is too late. I don’t give a damn for my image. I’m not elected and we don’t issue stocks so I have comparative freedom to do what is right.”

“You seem very sure of that,” Jabu said.

“It was a gene-engineered hemorrhagic fever, not some sniffles or toenail fungus. I probably saved you personally from a painful death but I rather expect the same lack of appreciation you are showing from the rest of your world. I’m vilified in your press as a monster and have gotten past worrying about that, much less expecting a thank you.

“Have you wondered why I’m not being loudly condemned by all those Earth countries who usually disapprove of everything I do?” Jeff asked him.

“No, and I’m not convinced that’s an accurate representation,” Jabu said.

“Check the record,” Jeff suggested. “I did them a favor but they would cut their throats before they would thank me for saving them from their own folly. I have had private communications that suggest someone appreciated it. They’ll want this to go away now and be forgotten as quickly as possible.”

“There was an almost simultaneous explosion in Hawaii,” Jabu said rather than argue that point. “Do you wish to take credit for that too? Was it related?”

“I don’t intend to share what I know about Hawaii,” Jeff said. “You’ll have to ferret out other sources of information for that.”

Jabu considered his chances of heckling Jeff into saying something more about Hawaii and decided they didn’t exist. More likely he simply would refuse to speak to him next time Jabu called. That would be a career-damaging loss.

“Thank you for speaking to me, Mr. Singh.”

“I’d appreciate a copy of your report to my mailbox once it goes out,” Jeff said.

He didn’t say Jabu was welcome and his face said that wasn’t an oversight.

“I’ll see to it,” Jabu promised.

* * *

The door buzzer went off, surprising April. She wasn’t expecting anyone.

“House, show me the corridor view,” she ordered.

There stood Diana, her Hawaiian neighbor, with a bag of something cradled in her arms.

“House, open the door,” April called out. She was halfway there so the door wasn’t fully open until she was standing just inside.

“Here, kiddo. Don’t say I never gave you anything.” Diana shoved the bag in April’s arms. It was stiff plastic, packed tight, and sealed but yielded slightly to her hands.

“This is heavy . You should have rented a little cart,” April said. “You didn’t tell me you were coming up. I’d have met you at the shuttle.” She stepped aside to let Diana in.

“I haven’t been down to the full g level so it’s manageable. I do my own gardening and stuff. I’m stronger than you think even without mods. It’s only twenty-five kilos.

“Nick came home all concerned and insisted I lift on the afternoon French shuttle, not wait a week. He drove like a bat out of hell to get me there and snatched my phone out of my hand when I tried to call you. He insisted calling from the car headed to the shuttle would endanger him even if the contents of the call were hidden. I couldn’t argue with that.”

April carried it to the kitchen and poked hard at the blank bag with her finger to figure out the contents. Small rounded pieces moved if poked hard enough. It had to be coffee beans. Nothing else would make any sense. Certainly not soup beans.

Diana pulled out a chair and dropped into it dramatically. That didn’t work very well at a half g but she made the effort to mime exhaustion.

“Coffee? You brought coffee on an emergency evacuation?” April asked.

“Yeah, green beans or you’d have smelled them. That’s some estate Kona that I’m assured is a really primo crop this year. Nick swears it tastes better now that they don’t get as much fertilizer to boost the yield. He told me I had ten minutes to pack but I told him I have all the clothing and personal items I need here. It would be stupid to take things back and forth with the lift fees. I just had this delivered and grabbed it off the counter to take something . Why waste your baggage allowance? That’s a gift for you,” Diana added if it wasn’t clear.

“Thank you. I’ve read that sometimes people grab something fleeing a burning house and can’t explain their choice later.”

“I can believe it. It wasn’t quite as compelling as a fire but Nick was ready to carry me to the car if I didn’t motivate. Kind of funny since it would be easier for me to throw him over my shoulder. The coffee was just delivered, sitting there on the counter, so it was easy to grab it on the way out. Nick told me on the road that his government created a doomsday response to North American threats and he wanted me off-planet until it was resolved. He warned me not to come back anywhere on Earth until he gave me an all-clear.”

Diana stopped and scrutinized April’s face the guileless way she did everything.

“That doesn’t surprise you at all. Why do I bother telling you anything?”

“I certainly don’t want you to stop telling me things. What if I didn’t know they were threatening Hawaii?”

Diana sighed. “Nick wasn’t offering a lot of details. They made a couple of bombs from the weapon Jeff gave them. But if the North Americans thoroughly depopulate the islands, they prepared something from their tropical diseases lab to release as a bio-weapon.”

April’s face showed what she thought of that.

“I know. That can’t be aimed ,” Diana said. “It’s mindless revenge.”

“I couldn’t do that,” April admitted. “If past experience holds any lesson, it would sweep the world and hurt guilty and innocent alike.”

“I know, I do. Don’t blame Nick. He was as horrified as us. This all happened above his pay level and just finally filtered down to him.”

“He cares deeply about you to risk sending you away,” April said. “That could bring him under extra scrutiny and suspicion.”

“Yes. We are too different to consider marriage. I’ve been down that road too many times already and the age difference won’t work. But yeah, we care about each other a great deal. I asked if he was sure he didn’t want to come with me. He said he has to stay and use whatever small influence he has to see this to as good an end as possible. He was the same before about working to avoid other excesses from their revolution.”

“The other nations threatened by the North Americans aren’t going to quietly roll over and submit either,” April said. “We aren’t instigating anything with them. They’re doing it on their own.”

“I’m not sure Nick knows that. May I mention it next time I message him?

“Sure, nothing I tell you is a secret if I don’t tell you first . They all may be consulting with each other for all I know,” April said.

“You’ve been away from Earth too long. They all automatically keep secrets when there is no need. Worse, when it would be better and help them to talk openly.”

“Maybe you’re right,” April decided. “The ones that talked to us certainly wanted it kept quiet. At least one other target wouldn’t talk to us at all.”

“See?”

April nodded an acknowledgment.

“Want some coffee? Maybe something to eat? I have beans roasted. We don’t have to wait on yours.”

“Yeah, but don’t go to any fuss. Order in and I’ll have time to make some calls before it arrives. I’m always happy with the daily special. I need to let Sylvia know I’m here and if she doesn’t invite me to stay with her, I have to kick Jeff out and reclaim my apartment for the duration. I hate to make him move back in with his hired man.”

She looked around at the spacious apartment.

“Unless you want to put him up,” Diana suggested.

“I still can’t get him to walk in without signaling. Even though he knows the door is set to his hand.”

“Is his place set to your hand?” Diana asked.

April looked uncomfortable at the question.

“His office where the hired man stays was set to my hand a long time ago. Heather got access too. I haven’t had any reason to go there to try it in years. He might reasonably have reset it for the man’s privacy. Likewise, I’ve never had any reason to go to your apartment while he’s been staying there.”

“People are uncomfortable accepting favors they can’t return. He might not even consciously know why he feels that way. I’d take that as a good personality trait. I’ve had the experience of too many who’d take anything you offer and never feel the need to do anything in turn. I don’t think it’s a Spacer – Earthie difference either. I may not be as smart as you but I’m a vastly more experienced pro at relationships.”

“You may be on to something there,” April admitted scrunching her eyebrows up and thinking hard. “But it’s complicated. I do the same with Heather on the Moon. I’d never just walk in though I heard her tell the house we both have full rights.”

Diana shrugged.

“Who am I to question it if it’s working for y’all? Too much talk-talk can sour a relationship that didn’t need to be questioned. If that coffee is done, do you have a little something stronger to fortify it?”

“I do, and I’ll call for our food while you do your calls.”

* * *

“I have another sovereign gold buyer,” Chen said smugly.

“I am going to crank up the French mill fabricators again,” Heather vowed.

“That might be a good idea,” Chen agreed. “There’s a lot more interest than I expected if the sales are kept strictly private.”

“This looks like it will be an ongoing operation, not a one-time thing. It seems outside the services we normally contract for with you,” Heather said. “Are you willing to continue handling it, and would you care to name an extra fee for the increased duty?”

“It does look like it will create expenses for me. I may have to hire new people. I enjoyed it and would like to stay involved at the sales level. I don’t have any appreciable risks. Does one percent of the mass sold seem reasonable to you?”

“Yes, and Central will have also expenses to clear before we see an actual profit. My kingdom will hold back some funds that don’t get put to use for shipbuilding or other joint projects. Therefore, I’ll also pay a half percent by mass to the Solar bank for Jeff’s services managing storage and transfers.”

“It’s a good thing we don’t have to pay tax on our apparent income from all our internal balancing payments,” Jeff said.

“You could all get rich just shuffling the same money back and forth,” Chen said tongue in cheek.

“I’m sure I can find us an Earthie economist who’ll believe that,” April said.

* * *

Within a mile of the Oregon border, Mike was pulled over. This didn’t surprise him. He’d been stopped crossing two other state lines.

“Good afternoon officer. Did I make an error somewhere?” Mike asked.

“No sir, you were right at the limit and there are no bulletins on your vehicle or plate. It’s simply that with the way things are now with the slump we see very little in the way of tourists or private vehicles. Especially not from as far away as Florida. Do you have any weapons in the truck?” Officer Nelson asked.

“Heavens no. I’m not a hunter or anything. The truck is a rental. I make two trips most years and it isn’t worth owning one when it sits idle nine or ten months of the year still costing insurance and depreciating. If I wait for the slump to be over, I may never go anywhere,” Mike said with a smile and shrug.

“You’re on business then,” Nelson said not quite making it a question.

“I make a buying trip of it for my antique and used shop. But I’m a birder and get to visit migration routes and photograph local exotics while writing off the trip as a business expense. It’s kind of late in the season to see any whimbrels,” Mike said, “but just about time to see some early marbled godwits. I’m not going to see that in Florida you can bet.”

“Not a bet I’d take, no,” Officer Nelson said. It was kind of creepy how Mike got excited about God’s Wits. Whatever the hell those were.

“May I see your license? I’d appreciate it if you’d open the back doors and allow me to view the interior.”

“Oh sure,” Mike handed him his license and walked to the back babbling. “I don’t even have a speeding ticket on that. Maybe ten, fifteen years ago. I’m not in any hurry and with what fuel costs now I don’t understand how these people can afford to fly past me like it’s a contest to see who can burn it up faster.”

He threw open the doors.

The van was packed tight to the roof and almost to the back doors.

“I know what you are thinking from the look on your face,” Mike claimed. “The old fool hasn’t finished the outbound leg of his trip and he’s near filled the truck up. I do it every time. What can I say? I’m a sucker for a good deal.”

There were pieces of furniture stacked cunningly with every space under and between them stuffed with boxes and bags. The wheel of a bicycle protruded but if it was attached to the full machine that was hidden under the layers.

Officer Nelson picked up a glass pigtail mounted on an electrical base, mystified.

“Believe it or not, that’s a fluorescent lamp,” Mike said. “Those were made just a few years about the time they went from incandescent to LED bulbs. They break super easy so there aren’t many around and they’re hazardous waste to throw away.”

Nelson laid it back on some kind of sports uniform in a cardboard box.

“Is that a dollhouse on a post?” Nelson asked. “Or some kind of bird feeder?”

Mike laughed. “That is a mailbox . Years ago, before you had to rent your mailbox from the post office in one of three standard sizes, you had all colors and shapes. I have one back home that is a plastic big-mouth bass. In one period, it was a fad to have your rural mailbox out by the road be a miniature version of your house. That house is long gone but the mailbox lives on.”

Nelson had searched cars where there was danger of medical sharps and some that were just plain old stinkers. But never such a huge pile of absolute junk. It would take all day and the old man would have a story for every piece.

“You enjoy your visit to Oregon, sir. I hope you find some more, uh, good stuff. And get to see those Godwiths.”

“Oh, I will but like the birds, I’m out of here for Florida long before the snow falls.”

Nelson sighed. “In truth, I’ve had similar thoughts on a few night patrols in February.”

* * *

“News Alert: Keywords space, Texas, and seven lesser linked words.”

Heather decided allowing her house AI to give a summary of triggering words would save her the time she always spent interrogating it. So far it was working.

“Source and read, House.”

Cuban National News Network - three minutes ago

The Texan Republic announces the formation of a space branch of their military.

Their rank and insignia will be the same as Texan Air Force with different colors and unique unit patches. Their area of operations and interest will be anything in Low Earth Orbit or higher.

Related story – just breaking:

The Texan legislature on the advice of their Civilian Space Agency and Department of Commerce extends the privilege of dual citizenship to any sovereign nation above the atmosphere that permits such status to their citizens. Dual citizens will be allowed Texan passports. Tax responsibilities for resident dual citizens will be published by the Board of Taxation. Free passage of other nationals from non-hostile countries to use Texan launch facilities will be granted.

End abbreviated news alerts.

“That’s sufficient, House,” Heather said. She wondered if Central was considered non-hostile and if they would publish a public list of the excluded states.

* * *

Mike left his ma and pa motel early and rolled into an open-air flea market at the crack of dawn. Now that he was in Washington, he wouldn’t be crossing any state lines. It was time to get rid of this junk. A hundred bucks bought a patch of grass along a dirt track around the very perimeter of the field. There was a lot number on a stake but no formal boundaries marked. He opened the rear doors, unfolded a chair to sit in, hung a tarp from inside covering his license plate, and put a few items near the track on the grass. They were in two groups with an aisle up the middle. Each pile got a sign of 6mm plywood sprayed with a chalkboard finish leaning against it. The one was marked: Everything this side five bucks. The other said: Everything this side - pay what you want. Mike opened a cold soda and relaxed in his chair. He’d put the rest out after his break.

A few couples walked past quickly looking briefly at each site and taking a picture with their phone. They’d be back after a quick circuit to buy. A man in a handicap chair with tires for soft ground came by and sat looking it all over.

“Why so cheap?” he asked bluntly.

“This is the last of my mother-in-law’s crap. After it’s gone, I won’t be back unless some other hoarding relative dies.”

“You could have rented a dumpster,” the fellow said unkindly.

“I’m retired and have the time. This has been cheaper than a dumpster. I’m actually ahead a little bit. My city trash service would charge me even more than a dumpster.”

“Of course, they would! They’re a damn racket!” That seemed to touch a nerve.

Mike just nodded in agreement. He didn’t want to provoke a big discussion.

“I’m not sure you’ll make your nut today with all these leftovers. What are you going to do if you have stuff left at the end of the day?”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” Mike told him. “It’s dirt cheap after all. But if anything is left, I’ll put FREE on one of the signs and leave a bit early. If I wait too long the fellow who runs the market is liable to see and stop me from leaving it.”

“Tell you what,” the chair-bound guy said, winding his pitch up. “I’ll pay you a hundred for the lot so you break even today and I’ll get my truck and load it up. You can leave early before the heat of the day

“A hundred twenty to cover a little of my fuel and you have a deal,” Mike said.

“A hundred ten and my son will load it all up when I call him to come and we can both sit on our butts and watch him do it.”

“Fine. Wheel around here beside me and help yourself to a pop from the cooler.”

“Pop? That’s so Midwestern. But thanks, don’t mind if I do.” First, he called his son and told him the lot number before digging for a cold drink. That easily ate up half the ten-dollar price hike he’d negotiated.

Mike wiped both signs and chalked ALL SOLD on both of them.

When the son arrived, he said not a word but presented an inquiring face. His father made an inclusive wave of his hand palm down over both piles of goods and indicated it was to go in the truck with a flick of his index finger. The young man lifted his eyebrows briefly in surprise but just nodded that he understood and went to work.

Mike was left wondering if the kid was deaf but couldn’t think of a polite way to ask. Maybe they were just stingy with their words.

* * *

The three all got multiple news announcements that the French ship, Tu Vois returned to the Solar System and would make lunar orbit in about two weeks.

Jeff and Heather quickly appeared on April’s screen.

“I was starting to worry about them,” Jeff admitted. “They were gone so long everything here shifted around the sun. They have to make a long burn and coast to get back in the Earth-Moon system.”

“I hope they planned on that and had supplies,” April said.

“For two weeks they could fast and survive,” Heather said. “Given it’s the French, I’d expect they’ll have freshly baked bread, sauces by the liter, and plenty of wine.”

“Maybe I can get a tour with a French ship,” April decided. “That sounds pretty good.”

“I’ll make a note for our freighter,” Jeff said. “A decent galley for longer trips with an oven and a frozen food locker.”

“Here’s the abbreviated claims announcement,” April said, putting the story on their screens. “They claim Proxima B for France and have some better data on it than telescopic studies. It does have a little atmosphere and it is tidally locked. The atmosphere probably builds up from the dark side and gets blown off by the next flare.”

“Welcome to it,” Jeff said. “It’s a junk planet but will make them a fortune just because it is so close to Earth. The very reason we don’t want it.”

“Why back to lunar orbit instead of the Earth?” April asked.

“I don’t know,” Jeff admitted. “Does that make you suspicious?”

“Everything makes me suspicious if I don’t understand it.”

“Perhaps for the same reason Home moved,” Heather guessed. “Earth orbit is a hostile environment and somebody could take out their only starship thinking they won’t get caught at it. It may make everybody happier knowing an armed ship is not orbiting among all their orbital assets. They’d have to spend more to guard it.

“I’ve no objection to them staying outside L1 once they cross it if they don’t think that gives them license to roam the Solar System,” Heather decided. “If they wanted to land on the Moon instead of orbit, we’d be able to watch them all the closer. It would be harder to sneak prohibited weapons aboard right under our noses.”

“Designate a landing field with no fees,” Jeff suggested. “People love free. For free you can’t be expected to provide much in the way of services. Let that up to some entrepreneur. You could position it between us and Armstrong so they don’t feel they have to do business with us.”

“That might make people design for landings on airless worlds who wouldn’t bother otherwise if they can carry a lander. It’s pretty easy in our mild gravity. It might even encourage local business,” Heather speculated.

“Make it your private field by invitation only,” April warned. “If you throw something open to the public with no controls somebody always finds a way to take advantage and ruin it for everyone else”

“The Tragedy of the Commons,” Jeff said.

“Yes, exactly,” April agreed.

“I’ll think on it and compose an announcement,” Heather said.

* * *

“The French announce they will take bids for rights to develop facilities on Proxima B,” Secretary of State Brenton read aloud.

“Why set up on the planet there?” his one undersecretary asked. “That makes you expend more energy than building a space station. Unless they find something to mine worth lifting from the planet. I understand it’s a hot rocky desert on one side and like Antarctica on the other.”

“Yes, but it’s a huge free shield against the solar flares. Proxima is a noisy star spewing out big bursts of radiation and particles,” Brenton said. “A space station would be a deathtrap or need ridiculous shielding.” He’d done his homework.

“That’s not a bad business model then,” the undersecretary decided.

“Tell it to Commerce,” Brenton said. “We’re concerned with the political aspects.”

* * *

The starship Tu Vois in lunar orbit was joined by a shuttle from Marseille. It was the start of building infrastructure to serve France’s interstellar exploration. It carried a few supplies and an officer to keep an orbital watch. The crew of two being relieved came aboard, and the captain carried a lockbox the size of a hardcover book. He took the right seat with the shuttle pilot. After looking around he asked if there was locking storage.

“I’m sorry, sir. We’ve never needed it.”

“That’s fine. I’ll request they install it. I know you don’t want anything loose. I’ll tuck it in my suit liner.” He unzipped his suit liner and was amused at his pilot’s intense scrutiny. The man was too polite to ask what it was. Perhaps he worried it was a hazard.

“It’s no problem, sir. The Tu Vois had to be armed to make the point of our compliance with the Moon queen’s doctrine valid. We never intended to lie about that but we didn’t want an excess of mass. So, this was my ship’s weapons system to qualify.”

The case had a numerical pad on top and he tapped 21091792 into it. He lifted the lid and displayed a perfectly normal compact pistol.

The pilot thought about it. Most people assumed they would carry missiles and nuclear weapons like the Americans carried, but of the required limited range. He couldn’t hold back his amusement and started laughing.

The starship captain waited until he ran down, smiling “This is of course a secret of the Republic. But if the Spacers had demanded an inspection, I’d have shown it to them.”

The pilot had nothing to say to that. He just shook his head again amused and started keying in the commands for their descent. The weapons system was zipped away, secure.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 21

“Hello, Diana. I’m sorry if I got a bit intense rushing you off,” Naito said. He looked stressed and worried, which Diana hated to see.

“I took it for care,” Diana allowed. “Are you thinking of following me?”

“No, in fact, I feel more secure than when I urged you to leave. I’ve news your friends will probably be happy to know ahead of the news reports. Prime Minister Tanaka intends to step down citing serious errors and loss of confidence from his closest advisors.”

“So, he was the architect of this debacle?” Diana asked.

“He is owning it. If anyone agreed with his actions, he isn’t dragging them down with him. Has Jeff spoken with you about our conversation and his actions?”

“No, I saw April, but now I’m at Sylvia’s and didn’t even have to kick him out of my place. I did go get some of my things but he wasn’t there.”

“Tell Singh I asked him to relate them to you if he will. I’d rather not tell the whole thing with no better encryption than public com offers. It’s a fair trade for the news about Tanaka. I was almost ready to follow you up when he revealed he was going to resign. I don’t know if he told me ahead of others in the government but he at least trusted me not to break the story to the newsies.”

“The public is pretty stupid but they aren’t going to believe he didn’t have some help from others,” Diana said.

“The uh… Crap, I don’t want to say too much. Ask Jeff what happened to the lab here. A believable story could say that his helpers in the matter are dead .”

“OK. Is there anybody among your revolutionary buddies you want to be PM?”

“That’s a problem I’m working on right now. Tanaka promised to stay away from any association with me and urged me to be careful who I supported. I’m just not sure how to do that exactly,” Naito admitted. “I know them all too well. Oh, and tell Singh thank you for not suspending the shuttle flights. I was surprised when the next landed on schedule.”

“OK, I will. You be careful they don’t try to foist it off on you,” Diana warned. “People, including other governments, may not be satisfied with Tanaka alone as a sacrifice. I predict the next Prime Minister will be on shaky ground. The politically astute may curb their ambitions and let others seek the office in case more heads need to roll.”

“I’ve already told anyone who will listen that I’m too young and inexperienced,” Naito said. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anybody bully me into it.”

“Good. Just remember, if the politicking doesn’t work out you always have a place with me as my pool boy.”

“But you don’t have a pool,” Naito said.

“Honey, for you I’ll put one in.”

When he disconnected, Naito was smiling. Diana felt good about that.

* * *

Jeff had some of the same concerns as Naito.

“Why don’t we meet and have lunch together?” Jeff suggested to Diana. “I’d rather do that than talk on com.”

“That’s sort of your version of meeting in a park like they do in spy novels, isn’t it?”

“Indeed, it is a very public place that would be very hard to bug. Jon is jealous of security in public spaces and the ladies in the cafeteria know their customers and are instantly suspicious of any strangers or behavior that doesn’t fit the norm.”

“Well, we both have to eat anyway,” Diana allowed.

“If we go now, it will be before the rush and less crowded. My treat?” Jeff offered.

“I have a rule against refusing free food. See you as soon as I can get there.”

Jeff beat her there but was loitering around the entry waiting. Diana noted he got a lot of greetings and waves from the people arriving but nobody stopped to talk. On Earth, a well-known person would have unwanted attention trying to use a public restaurant.

“I got here as fast as my stubby little legs would carry me,” Diana apologized.

“My office is very close,” Jeff said.

That would put it in the high-rent district, Diana realized. Not that anywhere on Home was going to be cheap. Jeff took her hand very naturally and led her in. She hadn’t seen anyone on Earth do that in ages but he wasn’t self-conscious about it at all. It was kind of nice and he didn’t even have gloves on.

After they had their food, Jeff took them off to a corner away from the coffee machines where everyone clustered. His style of briefing her was so much different than Naito's. With Naito he was so minimalist she had to beg for details to get the full picture. Jeff told the story of destroying the plague ship in a very linear fashion more like a video documentary than a conversation.

“I believe I caught it before any contact could have spread it,” he concluded.

She was glad she’d resisted the urge to say she didn’t care about some of the details because she was getting a better understanding of how Jeff and his ladies gathered and used intelligence. It was kind of scary. He wasn’t careful of her feelings for Naito nor did he apologize for what he felt was necessary to do. She was told more about the kinds of weapons he could use and how quickly they were available than she thought the general public knew. Maybe more than some governments.

When she said that, Jeff informed her that April regarded her as a trustworthy ally and he looked to his ladies’ judgment of people heavily. His explanation that they had cut way back on labeling things secret because people didn’t believe them anyway sounded crazy. Diana was sure Earthie intelligence agencies would see his assertion that you simply have to trust a core group of people as simplistic and suicidal. She kept that opinion to herself. After all, that policy was benefiting her.

“Thank you. Naito got me away to safety but I’m glad not to be here in indefinite exile watching the world down there ravaged by disease. I’m short on people down there I’m close to, but that’s on me. You saved plenty of decent folks who aren’t crazy.”

“Thank you ,” Jeff said. “You’re the only person to have thanked me for averting this. Though I did get some flowers anonymously.”

“Well, that’s not right,” Diana said indignantly.

“Ah, but you’ve corrected it,” Jeff said. It didn’t seem to be sarcasm.

That was far more generous with humanity than I’d be, and what sort of an ass would send flowers? Diana thought. One Earthie from billions expressing appreciation seemed inexcusable. It embarrassed her for Earth. It was a fortunate side of Jeff’s odd personality that he valued her single thanks so highly. She wasn’t about to turn down his thanks or try to talk him out of it.

“While I’m thanking you, Naito appreciated you not cutting off shuttle service to the islands.”

Jeff looked confused. “What does one have to do with the other?” he asked.

“Believe me, a lesser person would have cut it off to show their displeasure.”

“I don’t blame all Hawaiians for what Tanaka did,” Jeff explained. “Certainly not Naito. I finally figured out that very few Earthies have an effective voice in what their governments do. April would say they should rebel, but very few have a chance to do so effectively. Look at the Hawaiians. They just replaced their government and it’s already doing stupid things they wouldn’t approve of.

“I’m sorry it’s just the same automated shuttles we use to service our ship. I’d like to offer passenger service but we don’t have a spare lander right now. I wouldn’t ride a robotic shuttle and won’t ask anyone else to climb aboard one.”

“In my opinion, if you hadn’t started the freight service France and Tonga wouldn’t have had the nerve to initiate theirs,” Diana said. The Australians are still only offering air travel and arguing about that. They must still be worried North America will find some way to pay them back if they start shuttle service.”

“None of what the Earthie countries do makes any sense to me,” Jeff admitted. “Except Texas maybe. If they want to do air service to Hawaii, they’d have to jog out of the way over Central America. I know Mexico still won’t let Texas fly over them. Probably out of fear of North America.” He made a double-handed gesture of bewilderment.

“Who knows? Maybe those little countries won’t let them pass either,” Diana guessed.

* * *

Mike removed one of the drones from the cylinder. There wasn’t anything to grasp so he turned the tube upside down and wiggled it gently. They fit in the tube tightly but one slowly slid down until it dropped in his lap. The top and sides were pebbled matte black. The sides were curved sections with cracks between full-length sections that suggested something would project from there when it was activated.

Grasping it by the corners he turned it over and examined the bottom. There were four very short delicate skids but most of the belly was covered by what appeared to be a common one-liter zip-lock plastic bag. One of the cheap ones with a single seal. It was glued to the drone body because you could see the adhesive around the edges. You could tell it was hand-made but good quality work. The seal was centered down the length of the drone. Inside were lots of what looked like clear plastic rectangles. On either side of the seal was handwritten with a marker: DON’T TOUCH, and DON’T OPEN.

A tiny gas cylinder or a blank charge could blow the bag open and disperse the contents like confetti. Mike approved. It was a simple system with little to go wrong.

He had three locations to release the drones he’d scouted and had one picked for him in a text message sent to his phone about an hour ago. All he had to do was set it down with a clear view of the sky within a fifteen-minute window and stand back. There was nothing else to do unless it failed to activate and take off. Then he’d remove it and trash it. If it didn’t work it wasn’t his problem to fix. Hopefully one of the others would work. The release site was a municipal park that would close soon.

Mike set it on the grass and sat at a picnic table to watch. The lines along the sides turned out to be swing-out support arms for propellers that extended first. They had little duct rings around the props that inflated once clear. A panel popped off the top and a clear plastic wing inflated. Right away the propellors rotated slightly to the rear and started. It took off almost vertically with just a slight hum and spiraled up out of sight.

The whole thing was rather anti-climactic and Mike headed back to his hotel.

A half-hour later the drone made a low pass over the New White House parking lot and expelled its load at a hundred and twenty meters and slightly upwind. The little bots scattered all over the mostly vacant lot and the north and south lawns. It then turned and went to a nearby body of water where a small charge scattered it as pieces in the lake. Mike was already in bed and enjoying a good book.

* * *

“Naito, I need to speak plainly with you,” Paul Kanoa said from the com screen.

“What barrier have I ever put between us, Paul? Speak freely as long as you aren’t selling treason or criminal conspiracy.”

“If it’s secure, I’d rather come there to speak to you.”

“My place is rather more secure than you’d imagine,” Naito said. “The owner, Ms. Lewis, has her own security in place because her triad has lots of state actors interested in their activities. We have little hunter-killer robots roaming the house and they do leave burnt-out husks of invader spy bots at least weekly.”

“May I come to speak to you today?” Paul requested.

“I’m working from home and there’s nothing I couldn’t pause but why don’t you come tonight and I’ll cook us dinner on the grill? We won’t feel any need to rush.”

Paul hesitated and then agreed. “I know I was there before but I wasn’t driving to notice the route. Is there room for me to park a rental?”

“Have a car service drop you off and stay overnight. I’m going down the hill in the morning and can drop you off wherever you like. I’m all alone watching two houses with six bedrooms and the one in my caretaker’s building. So, it’s no imposition.”

“Alright I will,” Paul agreed. “Would about six be OK? That would be me coming straight from work.”

“Go home if you need a change of clothes. I can wait,” Naito offered.

“I always keep a change in the office in case I need to pull an all-nighter.”

“Six is fine then,” Naito agreed and he waited for Paul to end the call.

* * *

The next morning the crew arriving at the New White House stepped on three of the bots and carried them into the building. Their vehicles ran over nine leaving them stuck on the tires and there was nothing built in their programming to cover that, so they were wasted. Most that fell on the grass got mowed mid-morning. If any were seen they’d looked like discarded candy wrappers.

One got picked up on the foot of a crow prowling the parking lot for food scraps. Another got stuck on the rear end of the president’s golden retriever when he sat on the north lawn. The naval security detail walked the dog and returned it near wherever the president was. They didn’t groom the dog or examine it closely since it never left their sight. That would prove to be the best bot of the bunch. Its surface matching capabilities weren’t up to dog fur, but neither was anyone examining dog butts that closely.

Only two of the bots tracked inside came out and were released at the end of the day. Neither had anything of interest to the spacers. One had a great deal of information about removing the authority of local zoning boards by imposing uniform Federal standards. That would standardize materials and reduce costs nationally.

The other had in-depth information about the health of a Supreme Court justice and her possible successors. That was unlikely to matter to any but domestic issues.

The president’s dog shed the bot on his next walk with a little help from scooting across the grass. The naval rating stuck with that duty was supposed to wipe the dog's butt to preserve the expensive rugs and furniture in the White House. He wasn’t a dog person, found the duty disgusting, and was happy to let the dog do it the natural way. When the drone already in the area to read older bots passed over that evening the north lawn was in easy range to grab its data. The recording was interesting.

“Who’s a good boy? Huh? (sounds of roughhousing – dog barking)

“It gets more interesting,” Chen assured them.

“How far ahead?” April asked.

“About two hours,” Chen said, “but I thought you’d appreciate some humor. There are three meetings about domestic issues before we get to the one that matters to us.”

“Very cute but let’s fast forward there now,” Heather said.

“Director Prescott is here, Mr. President.”

“Show him in, Martha.”

“Carl, sit down. Get off him, Bandit! I swear that dog likes you better than me.”

“He was obviously trained by my dry cleaner,” Prescott said.

“That's more believable than most of the conspiracy theories people try to sell me. What are the latest fictions about the French efforts to corner control of interstellar exploration? Have they signed anybody up for their scheme? They seem thick with the Spacers. Maybe the whole thing is a cover for them to retain control of the stars through an Earth partner.”

That cut Prescott to his core. It hadn’t occurred to him France might be Central’s puppet. Dewar didn’t seem bright enough to think of that all on his own. Was somebody else feeding him ideas about the Spacers?

The bad thing at the moment was the president was going to have the best biometric sensors and veracity software working on him and know that the remark upset him. He needed to neutralize that before Dewar lost confidence in him.

“That… would upset me,” Prescott admitted and touched his breast to cover for his readings. President Dewar smiled a little at the reaction. He relished the sense of control he got from being able to rattle others.

“But no. I’ve never seen any indication the Moon Queen or her peers are that subtle. If they were cooperating, they would have bluntly endorsed the French claim registration scheme as soon as it was announced to shut off any competition.

“Also, France is still working to make incremental improvements to their drive, just as we are. They would not waste funding on that scale just to mislead us. If they were real allies with France the Spacers could share their tech to bring them along ahead of us. They are far ahead of us, I’m sorry to say. They may prefer France over us but they aren’t working to exclude us, yet .”

“What could tip them to do so, then?” Dewar asked. He seemed willing to concede Prescott’s analysis for at least a moment to discuss it further.

“The Moon Queen cited multinationalism as a necessity in whatever agency wins out. France is the only other Earth Power with a jump drive. It elevates them in the Spacer’s eyes as our peer even though they aren’t in other things that matter to us. They simply don’t care who has a bigger population or a larger economy. What matters is access to what they see as their domain. Anything above Earth orbit they now see as their sphere of interest.”

“I’m not comfortable speaking of Earth Powers and Space Powers,” Dewar informed Prescott. “I’m still of a mind that Earth nations can be Space Powers too . If you are correct about that, then they will see India or China in the same light if they can produce a superluminal vessel.” That idea clearly didn’t please him.

“Perhaps we can be both,” Prescott agreed, “but at the moment they are ahead of us in technology. We have to eventually catch up or leverage our superior numbers to level the playing field.”

“How do you mean that?” Dewar demanded.

“If the Centralists send a dozen superior ships out to explore and make claims and the Earth nations send a thousand inferior ships out who will end up with more resources? The old expression is that quantity has a quality all its own. It has proved to be true many times. As an example, in the First Atomic War, Germany had superior battle tanks but the Americans could build enough inferior tanks to overwhelm them on the battlefield. The population off Earth is so small I’d doubt their ability to compete with us in training crews for as many ships as Earth will have, even if they could build as many ships.”

“Our economy has never come back to the peak per capita level it had as the core central states alone,” Dewar admitted. “I can’t see us generating the tax revenues needed to build a thousand ships. The destruction of one left me grinding my teeth over the expense.”

“One does not need to own the ships to benefit from them,” Prescott insisted. “We do not own all the large corporations doing business in North America but we get our cut from all of them, including the multinationals. Encourage private investment and when you seek an understanding with France over licensing these discoveries, make sure the benefits come to those who control the development of them more than the discoverers. Columbus may have discovered America but Spain administered its exploitation. They favored his navigator over Columbus. He ended up with a temporary governorship, a handful of personal real estate, and personal fame long after his death as his meager reward for the discovery of an entire continent.”

Dewar had that distracted stare while he digested that. Prescott knew to stay silent.

“I doubt that it will be all that difficult to get France to agree to limit the governing body to those nations with actual star-capable vessels,” Dewar decided.

“And the benefits will go to those nations who can develop the discoveries. The miners, the people who build surface facilities and spaceports, the people who put up communication networks around new planets. The rewards will just naturally flow to those who have the experience and ability to do those things right now on Earth. If you just offer a little tax incentive and legal support those people will do those things under a North American flag, and the matter will sort itself out very favorably for us,” Prescott predicted.

“Good point,” Dewar said greatly encouraging Prescott. “Ocean vessels are flagged with the nations that have favorable laws. Not necessarily who financed or built them. We need to make sure claims are aligned with the ship registration and make sure that’s us.”

“Controlling charity benefits to those nations who can’t build their own starship or get a seat on the claims body will be useful too,” Prescott said. “It will free up funds spent as foreign aid that are a drain on our budget currently. You can even throw them a bone now and then such as supply contracts for resources they can supply cheaper. Semi-skilled labor may still be needed in developing a planet. For things such as planting trees.”

“I’m seeing the form this could take that would work to our advantage,” Dewar said. “If France will just be reasonable and not demand a superior role as its organizer. If they will be happy in a circle of nominal peers and let the ability to service the discoveries determine how the natural flow of rewards proceeds.”

“It’s not too early to have State quietly seek talks with France in private,” Prescott suggested. “Supply your negotiator with your overall vision and rank the key points that need to be adopted for him.” Prescott was happy and willing to let Dewar claim the whole plan as his vision if he would just do it.

“I’ll do that,” Dewar agreed. “And I’ll make clear that if they send another spox like Quincy Love who will give the store away, they will all rue the day they were born.”

“That was pretty much the end of any useful material from that bot,” Chen said. “His other visitors didn’t touch on any space issues.”

“I can’t believe we lucked out and got a bot right into the president’s office,” April said, “much less stepped on by the president himself.”

Chen grimaced. “It wasn’t on the president,” he assured them.

“But we heard the president talking to his secretary before Prescott came in,” April objected, replaying it in her mind.

“Who else was in the room?” Chen quizzed her.

“No… the dog? Bandit? He’d be chewing at his paw trying to get the sticky thing off if it was stuck to him. It would be visible and somebody would remove it,” April said.

“You didn’t listen to the full recording. From the various noises, everyone who has listened to the whole thing is sure Bandit sat on it. Do you want the full file?”

“No, I think I can live without that,” April said. “That’s even less likely than I imagined.”

“Indeed, I’d rate the usefulness of these bots very low except for this one improbable event,” Jeff said. “I’d never expect it to repeat in a thousand years.

“April keeps telling you, that life is one improbable event after another,” Heather said.

“I’m near ready to cede that as a natural law,” Jeff admitted. “I still think we’d be foolish to fund a massive continuation of these bots over one unlikely success. Most of them ended up stuck on the grass or tires. Let’s retire the design after this lot.”

“Agreed,” April said. “We need mobility and video. Being stealthy alone isn’t enough.”

“They’re stealthy but they will discover them in time,” Jeff insisted.

“Do either of you have any objection to releasing this transcript to the French?” Heather asked. “It will give them a little edge in knowing how to get the best out of the deal when the North Americans approach them. I think that’s to our advantage to dilute the North American control even if they are the big dog.”

“That’s fine but Bandit is our big dog,” Jeff giggled.

“Jeff made a joke,” April said. The ladies shared a look that asked– what next?

“Sure, tell Verlaine,” April agreed.

“I will,” Heather promised, “but I’d rather send word back through Broutin since the PM used him. He made a casual remark about being a fly on the wall to hear the North American’s reaction. Like April, I enjoy leaving people wondering how I could possibly know something. I won’t reveal too much about our actual methods. Especially since they don’t appear efficient. Let them think we can do this every day of the week.”

April nodded in agreement. “It keeps ‘em humble.”

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 22

Paul Kanoa let his service car go and had a small overnight bag. He didn’t look at ease though. He looked over his shoulder at the departing car like he had second thoughts and might run after it.

“Drop your bag there,” Naito said waving at the bench by the entry. “Nobody else is in residence to mess with it, and we’ll find you a room later. Follow me. I’ll grab us a couple of beers and we can sit on the balcony to chat.”

“This is nice,” Paul said leaning over the rail to take in the view before sitting. “You put a glass pool house in since I’ve been here. It’s good it isn’t high enough to block the view of the nature preserve.”

“It was here, it just retracts to either end. It was open before. The sections telescope until it looks like a band shell, and even that can roll back to the edge of the apron from the pool. I usually leave it closed up because it keeps it clean with no work. I keep telling myself I should do laps every morning and something always happens that seems more important.”

Paul took a seat silently and worked on his beer a little. Relaxing almost reluctantly.

“This is a little taste of how the very well-to-do live,” he said eventually.

“I have no idea how rich Ms. Lewis or her partners are. The Spacers don’t have corporations and the kind of legally required reporting that gives you some clues about how rich billionaires on Earth are from their stock holdings. You’d be shocked how they live on Home. April Lewis has what is considered a large residence there and it would all fit easily in the caretaker’s cottage I have up by the road.”

“I know you ended up visiting unexpectedly. My boss Justice Cooper, told me a bit more about that than was released to the public. Was it very strange up there?”

“It is a far greater difference than life in the islands compared to the USNA. People think that’s a huge cultural gap but we followed most North American laws in public. Our differences with the Continentals are in attitudes about the urgency of making appointments on time, business wear, and things like food. The Homies in contrast discarded the entire legal system and get further away from us in customs every year. I could live there if I had to but would rather not. I like seeing the sky and ocean.”

“Are you here for the Justice rather than yourself?” Naito asked turning to business.

“Yes, I don’t have the juice to be playing in high-level politics and I’m not entirely comfortable being someone else’s spox above my station.”

“I know. You acted like a young girl who wasn’t entirely sure I could be trusted to honor your virtue. I thought you were going to bolt after your car,” Naito joked. “I’m a third-level bureaucrat who doesn’t have much more power than you. I got the job as a reward for supporting the revolution but it was almost an empty office. Our main trading partner was who we rebelled against. What with sanctions and them putting pressure on others it’s been hard to create any foreign trade to promote. They kept me away from any authority over domestic production. I’m not sure they didn’t do me a favor there. The intense lobbying and pressure politics over local industry don’t look worth the hassle to me. You are assured no matter what you do that somebody will be unhappy with you. It’s the sort of a position where bribes are the norm in many countries. If you don’t take them, you are still under constant scrutiny from people worried or hopeful, that they can catch you at it.”

“Judy, Justice Cooper that is, feels you have influence well beyond where you’d land on an organization chart. She feels I know you a bit better having been to one of your earlier get-togethers here. I tried to assure her we aren’t buddies but she insisted I speak for her.”

“And maybe, if Judy and I are to cooperate it would be better if nobody saw us meeting together. The safest way to avoid that hazard is simply not to do it. Who is she promoting for prime minister?” Naito asked.

“Well, you cut right to the heart of the matter,” Paul said.

“There isn’t any other question in play worth skulking around and trying to build a consensus right now. I don’t have my heart set on anyone but I have a few I don’t want. Some supported the revolution and deserved a reward but aren’t suitable for the top post. They are people I can work with on mundane issues but they are too radical on Hawaiian rights or lean too heavily socialist for me to want them as our prime minister. In particular, I think it would look like a coup to too much of the world if we picked from the military.”

“Judy also feels the judiciary should also be shut off from running for executive positions. She warned me you are smarter than me but I’m wondering if she considered the possibility that you might be smarter than her. She went down a list and explained the pros and cons of quite a few people. Since I’m not the one with the influence I suspect she thought I’d debate it with you. If you’ve already made your own list, I’d rather not bore you and embarrass myself by comparing our lists person by person. I’ll just tell you straight out she likes Robert Hoku best. He’s more than half Hawaiian but not so hardcore he insists on the single name. He’s married to a mixed-race wife who isn’t particularly offensive or strident on anything but is very sharp. They’re both squeaky clean and have lived in the same modest home from before the revolution…”

“Unlike this place that just invites accusations of improprieties,” Naito interrupted.

“Better for you to say it than me,” Paul agreed. “He may not go down in the history books as a great leader but I don’t think he will do anything genuinely stupid. Certainly not as stupid as Tanaka managed to do. They also have two very polite well-raised children who excel academically. You’d be surprised have often people mention that and strongly count it to his favor even though it isn’t a political issue.”

“Not surprised at all,” Naito said. “I think it’s valid too. It’s an actual positive thing instead of simply the absence of a glaring defect like being a drunk. It speaks well of his character and intelligence and his wife’s. He wasn’t one of the three I’d narrowed it down to as my choices. I thought him a little young but if he could be persuaded to run, I wouldn’t have any problem supporting him. I might even mention that when asking people what they think of someone, I find if I mention at least a minor fault people generally end up trying to talk me out of it to win me over to the opposite view. It pays to be subtle. I’m complimented that you and your boss think my support is worth asking.”

“Don’t play modest with me,” Paul objected. “People the world over don’t know the head of our military or the head of our state department, but they all have been told that quiet fellow standing behind Tanaka in the news videos was the architect of the North American-Central treaty. You have international face recognition and nobody seems to think any of Tanaka’s blunder splattered on you. Tanaka was too cautious and afraid the deal would fall apart. A lot of other politicians would have cut you out early and taken credit for the whole thing. He waited too long to try to pull that off.”

“It would have blown up if they’d sent a professional instead of Love,” Naito said.

“But they didn’t. There are a thousand ways it could have gone wrong but no point in recounting them. Justice Cooper said that the value of your endorsement might not be obvious to even those swayed by it. The fact is, everything you have promoted has turned golden. Political forecasting is similar to horse race handicapping. Even politicians who don’t agree with you are aware you don’t bet against somebody on a solid winning streak.”

* * *

Nathan DeWalt, now Walters, found little demand for political spox speaking on behalf of cultish foreign governments on Home. Fortunately, he had skills that transferred nicely. His role for the Martian government was more like a marketing director for a charity than an ambassador. He solicited donations for the colony based on whatever his audience wanted to hear.

For some people, it was altruistic support for scientific research that had basically ended but was still part of their public facade. For other very large contributors, it was vague promises of shelter if they ran out of safe havens on Earth. For a very select few, groomed to be admitted to a secret inner circle, it was the knowledge they were saving humanity from the mass hysteria and collapse of civilization that the revelation of an alien civilization would provoke.

Admittedly, he took a step down on the marketing ladder to promote the daily specials and add-ons at the Fox and Hare. On the plus side, nobody was trying to assassinate him over which appetizer to order, and the customers came in the door knowing they wanted something if not always what. His boss, Detwiler, was even a fairly reasonable sort.

Nathan had the gift of gab but also knew when to turn it off. He also invested in his customers. If a couple showed signs of prosperity, he’d comp them an appetizer or a dessert on his own account. That often resulted in better tips and the customers buying the same item they got to try risk-free on a future visit.

Although he came to Home with a decent bankroll, he found demand for labor in an expanding economy at least let him stay even and not draw down his principal. He got a meal at his shift end at the nightclub but took his other meal and breakfast at the public cafeteria for about a quarter of the value of his comped supper.

When Nathan got the first monthly summary from his bank, he found the interest on his account was almost as much as his earnings. He briefly entertained the idea of retiring and living off that. He assumed inflation would slowly reduce the value of that income because it always had on Earth. On the downside, if he did that, he’d undoubtedly end up spending more on amusements to fill the empty hours when he wasn’t working. Also, he was astonished to find that he liked his work.

On Home, there wasn’t the huge class gap between customer and server there was on Earth. Almost anytime he served a group that was arrogant and demanding it soon came out that they were visiting Earthies. The other servers and staff shared stories about who he was waiting on. He was building up a picture of Home society and who did business with each other that never made the gossip boards.

One evening he served a table with the Moon Queen and another couple. Heather gave him a quick intense scan, a nod to acknowledge she knew him, and a brief word to her companions. He was terrified she’d ask for a different server and sure he was being pulled off when Detweiler motioned him over as he picked up their drinks at the bar.

“The smaller lady on the left of the gentleman is a partner in the club,” Detweiler told him. “We never present owners with a tab for their service. Just write owner on their bill when you turn it in and it will be handled.”

“Thank you. I know the other lady, Heather. We’ve done business together,” Nathan said. “I don’t know the couple but the man looks familiar.”

“Just to keep you from saying anything embarrassing they aren’t exactly a couple. He’s Jeff Singh and she’s April Lewis. You’ll see them together more often on Home but they are all three in a triad together. You’re looking at the controllers of a big chunk of Home’s economy and a lady who is the ruler of a sovereign nation.”

“I’ll give them super service,” Nathan promised. “I’m already in Heather’s debt for helping me come up from Earth.”

“Very good. You run in higher circles than I expected,” Detweiler complimented him.

That was all to the good, and a huge relief for Nathan.

* * *

“That McAll fellow came by our house yesterday,” Pearl told the Foys when she came to work. “They still don’t have the gang mailboxes and may bring them in by army truck, but they got in two of the quiet hybrid bikes like McAll rides for the mail service. He offered to take Tommy back with him and check him out on one so he can start coming in for training. He’ll stay overnight and ride back home today if they’re happy with how he rides. It was so funny. He said if Tommy didn’t mind being trained on a weekend. He has no clue how little weekends mean to us the way we’ve been living. Every day has some work.”

“I never thought about training,” Vic said. “I suppose he needs to know all the rules about what can be mailed and the rates. I guess he’ll have to carry around a scale.” That seemed to amuse Vic.

“We’re creeping back towards dealing with bureaucracies,” Eileen complained.

Vic held up his hand like he was being sworn in a courtroom witness stand.

“I swear I will never complain about how long the line is at the Bureau of Motor Vehicles if we can buy gas and stuff to use my truck again. I don’t even care if they are closed on weekends.”

“Well yeah, I guess you have to take the bad with the good,” Eileen agreed.

“I’m sure that was the price of civilization as far back as the Babylonians,” Vic said.

“Tommy will start getting paid right away,” Pearl said. “We’re pretty happy about that.”

* * *

“Your Excellency, I have an interesting communication from the Sovereign of Central.”

“So formal , Broutin. Are we not friends? What happened to plain Verlaine like a fellow working man? Indeed, I would not take offense at Charles. I certainly know who the Moon Queen is without her fancy title. Surely the message is not so dire it drives you to the protection of formality? I’m not given to shooting my messengers.”

“The message is friendly and useful, but frightening that they possess it to pass along at all. I find myself worried she may hear me being dismissive of her position. It leaves me wondering if I have privacy anywhere. Even in my morning shower. I believe the President is likely following your handling of this closely and will find it interesting. I’m sure your intelligence chief will want to hear it, also. He needs to.”

Verlaine chuckled. “I doubt you have to worry about our privacy in my offices,” he assured Broutin looking around. “Out with it, please.”

“It’s just an audio file. The characters self-identify at the beginning. I’d like to hear it again with you if you don’t mind,” Broutin said handing him a memory chip.

“Certainly, and I’ll call for my aid to bring us some coffee and pastries,” Verlaine said. “I need them for a little boost if you don’t.

That done Verlaine slid the chip in the reader slot and listened intently.

“Let me run it again,” he said but he delayed when their coffee service arrived.

“Can this possibly be authentic?” Verlaine asked after another hearing.

“I have no doubt the voiceprints will match if you check them against public sources. One supposes it could be faked by piecing together words and phrases from speeches. It would require some altering of transitions from word to word, and getting the cadence of natural speech would be difficult. The best people at that sort of fakery are in entertainment, not the government, and everything gets scrutinized. I just can’t imagine these people creating a hoax they know would eventually be found out. I don’t think they even care enough to go to the trouble to hoax us. So, yes, I do believe they can penetrate even as far as the office of the North American president and this is real.”

“Why do you suppose she would favor us with this?” Verlaine asked suspiciously.

“Oh, several reasons,” Broutin said across his cup. “They are not as neutral as their public statements would indicate about who controls her demanded claims protection agency. If they don’t outright favor us, they would still rather not see North America dominate its operation.”

Verlaine nodded his acceptance of that.

“Also, you were correct in sending me because I have a personal relationship with both Heather and her peers. That means more to them than the direction of current politics. Indeed, with life extension, their idea of what is current is much different than ours. I was surprised how easily we fell back into a comfortable conversation as if years had not passed. They have different feelings about the passage of time.

“They also had a close personal relationship with your predecessor, Joel. He dealt with them on French soil hospitably and made a tour of the habs and the Moon when he left office. I suspect he still communicates with them. He is rumored to have bought a modest residence on the new habitat. That, more than any business or diplomatic alignment with France, seems to dominate their thinking. If you just assume you will have a similar warm relationship when dealing with them and pursue it, I think you will find that Joel has left credit to your account with them you weren’t aware you had.”

Verlaine picked a pastry like it was the most important action at hand, while he thought about Broutin’s analysis. “What an interesting idea, I always assume personal feelings and personality are suppressed by the limits of their office and party when dealing with Earth leaders. I am certainly constrained by the demands of at least our seven principal parties in what I can say and do, if I don’t want to see a new government formed.”

“Heather is an honest monarch after the old model,” Broutin explained refilling his cup. “Her core supporters asked to swear to her for protection and the body of sworn subjects has not been expanded for convenience to dilute their loyalties. Most of her residents are just that. Only living there for work or safety. There is very little she could demand that would result in her overthrow. Her word is law. She holds court weekly and has expelled people as undesirable.

“Also, there is the fact I inadvertently asked for this intelligence,” Broutin said.

“That doesn’t even sound like you to ask for such a thing,” Verlaine said. “I can’t imagine what you’d offer in exchange or how one can inadvertently ask for intelligence.”

“I simply said I’d love to be a fly on the wall to hear the North Americans’ reaction to our pulling a march on them establishing a claims agency. It was a casual fanciful statement. I had no idea saying that such a thing might be possible. Not being serious, I offered no payment. I suspect it just amused her to demonstrate that such a thing was possible. She could have paraphrased the conversation and still passed it on to us as actionable intelligence.”

“No, I’d have never trusted it enough to act on it without hearing it in their voices,” Verlaine said. “I’ll have it checked but it’s too bold to be a bluff. I’m surprised she didn’t offer the companion video in full Ultra-Definition splendor.”

Broutin blushed and looked down like he’d discovered something in the depths of his cup. He really was incapable of hiding anything.

“What? I can see your thoughts demanding to burst forth. You wouldn’t have withheld the video from me if you had it. You don’t have it within yourself to be so devious.”

“I was so shocked by the recording I didn’t know what to say so I jokingly accused her of withholding such a video. She informed me their little bug stays attached once it has a good hiding place and the view this one had while listening was nothing I’d appreciate. I advanced a couple of fanciful theories but she just looked even more amused. She informed me it was attached to Bandit.”

Verlaine looked blank for an instant and then remembered.

“The dog? The president’s dog?”

“Yes, it was affixed to his derrière,” Broutin said. “One imagines he backed into it or sat on it. If he’d poked it with his nose like dogs will do, sticking it into everything, it would have been obvious and removed.”

Verlaine fortunately had just swallowed. He chuckled but it soon evolved into an unrestrained laughing fit. He tried to return to speech but failed twice. Broutin just smiled and waited. He’d already run through all the gross pictures he could imagine and allowed Verlaine to get past the same mental review.

“What a loss,” Verlaine finally said. “It would almost be worth leaking that video if it exists, just to see it repeated on the evening news programs.”

* * *

“Let’s go over to the neighbor’s,” Naito said. “I don’t keep a grill here. I just use hers. I have to feed her dog anyway.”

“Do you get paid to take care of her place too?” Paul asked.

“Not directly like Lewis,” Naito said unoffended by the personal question. They’d had several beers that made both more affable. “She’s well-to-do but not in the same league as the Spacers. I’m already here next door and the Lewis place doesn’t keep me busy. I raid her freezer when I want to grill something and she had me pick out a car for her when the old one got destroyed. I borrow it when I need to.”

“I hear about that. It was strange,” Paul observed.

“I call in workmen if something needs repaired and keep an eye on them until they leave. I put the lawnmower out to work when it needs it. I don’t begrudge these minor tasks or worry about who is ahead in the exchange of favors with Diana because it’s all pretty much a labor of love,” Naito said and shocked Paul with a theatrical wink.

“You dog , you,” Paul said finally cluing up. “I don’t think Judy has that figured out.”

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 23

Mike Morse took a long, wandering, and very scenic route back home to Florida. It had been years since he’d visited many of the places along the way. It was a treat to revisit them on somebody else’s dime. The difference a couple of decades made was readily visible. The northern states that had severe winter weather were much less populated. The high cost of energy meant one needed a solid reason to stay living there year-round, not just because it was where previous generations of your family had settled and lived.

Older, inefficient homes too difficult to upgrade were abandoned and deteriorating. Demolition was too expensive when there was plenty of room to build new. If you got off the main highways so many of the small towns were gone that you had to plan well ahead of time where you were going to refuel. Going back, only Colorado had a state trooper watching the border crossers on a secondary road. Mike loaded up on local goods that were hard to find or too expensive in Florida. The Colorado trooper expedited his passage for a dozen cans of chopped clams.

If he’d thought about it beforehand, he could have hauled some Florida goods north instead of posing as an antique dealer. The price of citrus in Washington was outrageous and the quality abysmal. Honey was liquid gold and shrimp was so expensive it might be worth the hassle of keeping it frozen. He’d have to pay some of it out in gratuities along the way but such was the way of things even for the big truckers.

When he arrived back home, he aired his small apartment out and took his private freight inside late at night, with no lights and very little noise. When he went to bed, he followed his instructions to text his employer and arrange to meet him at the same diner where he was recruited for breakfast.

Pete was in a booth which suited Mike just fine. Doing business at the sit-down counter made him nervous. He laid his registration, diesel permit card, and key fob on the table so Pete could take them when they were done.

“That was about as interesting a job as I can remember doing,” Mike allowed. “Minus anybody shooting at me, which is far too interesting. Your delivery people were amazing.”

“I was a little worried when you started a sort of random walk coming back,” Pete admitted, “but you kept trending this way so I calmed down.”

“Knock a little off for the extra fuel if you like,” Mike offered. “I brought back enough local goods to pay for it. I wanted to see some places I hadn’t visited for years.”

“How did you find them?” Pete asked. “My employers always value general intelligence from eyewitnesses.”

“The small rural towns are pretty much gone,” Mike said. “It’s sort of silly that some counties still have a courthouse and local police. There’s not enough population for the expense to make sense. They have a dozen or two real residents other than the workers on big company farms or processing facilities. They could go with just the state police and their company’s on-site security. The parks, however, are wonderful. When I was younger you had to reserve two years ahead and they were so crowded it kind of spoiled the whole idea of being outdoors. Now you can roll right up and get in or rent a campsite with no reservation At least until you get back south of Colorado or Kansas.”

“I’m not going to be nickel-and-diming you,” Pete said. It was odd to hear a young person use that old phrase. Only dollar and five-dollar aluminum coins were circulated now. It made Mike wonder if Pete was one of those life-extended people. He looked about thirty-five, but how could you tell? Nobody ever told him if there were any visible signs other than going crazy if the news services were to be believed.

“I was told to give you a little bonus besides what is on your credit card.” He handed Mike a cable tie with four gold wedding bands, holding it so it was hidden in his palm from the room.

“That’s pretty decent,” Mike acknowledged. “I know several people who will trade goods for these.”

“If you’d rate your experience with us high enough, I’ll offer you a deal to be on call with us,” Pete said.

“On how short of a leash?” Mike demanded. “I’m not interested in a drop everything any time you call sort of an obligation. If I can pass on something that requires me to drop everything and run out the door, I’m interested. Depending on the retainer of course.”

“We, I, have several associates. If one is busy, I’ll ask another. Some have different skill sets than you. As a retainer, you can keep the van to use and the ration card for diesel. I do ask that you don’t buy fuel for others. That does get tracked and investigated by the authorities. As long as you use it for personal business, we’ll keep it licensed and insured, with a base amount on the credit card to cover fuel. If we call you to do something, you can figure the pay will be similar to what it was for this task. If the van needs to be serviced, there is a repair account established with the Mercedes dealer network under the same company name as on the fuel card.”

“I should have asked about that and road service before my trip,” Mike realized.

“We not only track it but will get notified by satellite link if it breaks down.”

“So, I have to let you track me,” Mike said mulling if he could live with that.

“You do. All I can tell you is that the end-users aren’t interested in the local sort of business for which you’d use it. They would care if it was used for criminal activity that would call attention to it or if it disappeared entirely. Neither will they divulge their arrangements with different employees. You might meet another of my people to exchange freight or messages but you will never know at what level the other contact is employed. Trying to find out their identity or track your contacts would be a good way to be dropped from our service.”

“I guess if I need privacy I can take my little commuter car,” Mike said but he added a wink to soften it.

“Indeed, if you can count it privacy to have your uplink tracked, your fuel purchases watched, and your license plate scanned everywhere you go you can take your car,” Pete invited. “On the whole, the van will give you better anonymity than your own car. A very plausible storyline to explain where it has been and what it was doing can be generated anytime they want to run an audit on the vehicle,” Pete promised. “We have people on the inside to do that.”

“OK, you have a deal,” Mike agreed. “I’ll be your asset and whoever your bosses are.” He finished that statement by lifting his eyes like he was looking through the ceiling.

“Yes, and that’s as much as we’ll say about that,” Pete warned.

* * *

“You’ve got enough in your share to cover a Troy ounce,” Vic informed Alice. “It’s up to you to safeguard it. If you hide it don’t hide it so well you can’t find it again. I know the coin is a keepsake but you might think about getting a postal account of your own.”

“You told us and Mr. Mast and Mr. Woodleigh what corner of the barn to dig up if anything happens to you. Do you want me to do the same?” Alice asked.

“That’s entirely up to you,” Vic said. “I have no right to name your heirs for you.”

“I have a caution,” Eileen said.

“Please, I’d hear it,” Alice said.

“You are taken with Titus and think from how he acts that it is returned. Those emotions are strong and never having felt them before it’s too easy to assume they are permanent and reliable. I’m not that much older than you but I’ve seen people date or even live together only to discover they don’t want to live with them forever like they imagined. Sadly, sometimes one partner discovers this when the other is still happy. So, it isn’t just dependent on your feelings and choice alone. You should make sure Titus wants to marry the cute, dangerous girl before he finds out she is rich too.”

“That’s hard to hear,” Alice admitted. “I have this little voice saying I’m keeping secrets from him. That seems like a bad start.”

“Do you intend to give him a blow-by-blow account of your life with the Campbells?” Eileen asked rapping the table with her fist with the word’s cadence.

Alice looked stricken. “I haven’t told you everything and there are things I’m still not comfortable writing in my journal. I might never,” Alice admitted.

“You don’t have to tell me. I could see what slimeballs the whole family was. It isn’t hard to imagine what it was like to be their slave. Titus doesn’t need to hear that either. It would be a kindness to not make him imagine all that. He might have nightmares.”

“Do you agree?” Alice asked Vic directly. He looked surprised to be consulted.

“Absolutely,” Vic agreed. “I just appreciate that you haven’t jerked away from my touch or been afraid to be in the barn or the field with me. Some women would let abuse put them off men for a lifetime. I’ve heard coarse men like the Campbells make excuses for their behavior once they’ve had a few drinks to lubricate their tongue. I’ve no illusions about how evil they can be.”

“All right. I’ll bury my share in the corner of the barn catty-cornered from yours. If I want to tell Titus or anybody else about it before I’m married, I’ll talk to you first.”

* * *

April looked around the bridge. It was as big as her living room and had five duty stations with huge wrap-around screens and controls that bridged the acceleration couches. The seat and console rotated and leg support lifted until it was flat if you wished to recline under hard acceleration. The rear three were offset from the front seats to allow an unobstructed view of the forward ports. A coffin lock allowed emergency outside access.

There was a head with the unbelievable luxury of a shower and a coffee station with a cooler for food and a microwave set at the bulkhead behind the seats. Two jump seats with limited reclining allowed observers. A powered lift gave access to a lower deck they’d already toured with a bigger galley, two tiny officer’s cabins, and six bunks with privacy screens and another head. A lot wasn’t done yet with panels open and wires hanging from conduits where something would connect to them later. The shell of the vessel was there and it was under pressure so Jeff wanted them to see it.

The third deck below, where they’d entered, held enough room, empty now, for testing labs, modest repair facilities for the ship, and the storage of suits or other outside equipment. The lock was large enough to pass a small buggy for surface exploration and a crane could extend from the open lock to drop that or other loads. That lock was in line with one of the bigger freight hatches below it that had an even heavier crane.

“It feels too big to fly,” April objected.

“I have to admit it feels more like the bridge of the Isle of Hawaiki than a spaceship,” Jeff said. “Believe it or not, it’s slightly less volume than one of the holds in the Hawaiki and the Hawaiki is at best a medium -sized bulk carrier. It has more crew but six of them are assigned full-time to maintenance. The saltwater and sun mean that by the time you paint it from end to end it’s time to go back and start all over again.”

“I never needed to visit her,” April said, “besides my usual aversion to landing on Earth for any reason.”

“There’s nothing nearby to visit and the interior is just as bare of adornment and functional as a spaceship. It just slowly circles to hold location and only moves off south or west if a big storm warrants moving out of its path. You aren’t missing anything,” Jeff assured her. “Even taking freight on or off is only done in good weather and as exciting as watching somebody unload a semi-trailer.”

“Do you have some obscure name out of mythology for her?” April asked.

“Nothing has occurred to me yet,” Jeff admitted. “I don’t want anything like Gargantuan because as big as she is, I’ll be surprised if we don’t build bigger, and then a superlative name will seem silly.”

“Call her Prospector and the name will still be appropriate no matter what you build later,” Heather suggested.

“Thank you, dear. That works for me. April?”

“That’s what she’ll do. Better than anything I can think of,” April admitted. “Who will lift her for the first time?”

Heather quickly answered, worried Jeff might want the honor.

“I’ve been thinking about that. I think Johnson should be our official test pilot. If he feels the need to risk a second person, he can name somebody he trusts.”

“Or whoever is crazy enough to ride with him,” April said.

* * *

The deeper voice in the next booth said, “Murmur, murmur, shuttle tickets . We’ll go Cape to New Las Vegas then to Home on a Larkin’s Line orbit to orbit shuttle.”

Mike Morse’s mental filter kicked in on the phrase ‘shuttle tickets’ and suddenly the muted conversation wasn’t background noise. He didn’t know who Pete’s bosses were in the heavens but he was now keenly aware the good deal he had going was tied to an unidentified group of Spacers. All space news now held more interest for him. He stopped chewing and strained to listen. The clientele of the diner where he habitually had breakfast weren’t of the socio-economic class one expected to buy shuttle tickets.

“Will we stay overnight at New Las Vegas?” the other male voice asked.

Mike quickly got the audio recorder running on his phone.

“We’ll be tired and have a four-hour layover, but everything is so damn expensive up there I want to sleep on the longer flight to Home. The advertising says the seating is luxurious and in individual pods so sleeping should be easy. I’m not sure we have enough funding and I’m trying to stretch what we have. That's why I booked us out here in the boonies so far from the Cape. It’s cheaper and less likely to have security closely watching travelers entering the sensitive area.”

“I just hope the little son-of-a-bitch is still there,” the softer voice said. There was no reply and Mike sensed the conversation was done. He switched to taking video with his phone and propped it against the wall beside the napkin holder. It wouldn’t do to be seen holding it. The two men walked by on their way to the cash register but Mike didn’t look. He kept his head down giving his full attention to his breakfast. He waited to be sure they weren’t coming back to their booth before looking at the video.

He'd seen better surveillance pix but he did get a quartering shot if not full face on. It looked plenty good enough to identify them. Mike trimmed the video down to the vital section and called Pete. These two might be nothing or something his bosses in the heavens would appreciate knowing about. This would at least demonstrate he was trying to watch out for their interests. Pete said his bosses valued general intelligence.

On Home, Chen, the Trio’s main intelligence agent was reading his messages. His man Pete didn’t report every day but when he did Chen paid attention.

“Chen, my newest freelancer just sent me a very interesting file of two young males with slightly different accents discussing coming to Home to find someone on behalf of a third party. It didn’t seem like a benevolent search from the context. You might consider if it could involve anyone tied to our interests. He noted the modest diner in which he was having breakfast isn’t the sort of place you expect to find anyone who can afford lift tickets.”

Chen took the time to listen to the file and view the video. Pete seemed to be recruiting good people. As many assassination attempts as had targeted his employers, it was only prudent to include it in his daily update. When Jeff and April saw it, they pulled Heather into their conference from the Moon.

“OK, who have we irritated recently?” April asked. “Probably in Europe.” She played the video for Heather who hadn’t viewed it yet.

“We of course have all sorts of enemies,” Jeff said, “some of long-standing. However, their dislike seems directed at a male target so that excludes both of you. I’m so permanently associated with Home that I can’t imagine anyone would doubt I’m still here. If I’m gone, it’s only for a few days and I didn’t get the sense that was what this person was worried about. On top of those reasons, we’ve never had multiple assassins sent to harm us. I’ve always thought it a solitary occupation.”

“It does sound like somebody else,” April agreed. “I’d still like you to accept Gunny watching your back for a couple of weeks until we see some evidence the target was somebody else.”

Jeff nodded in easy agreement. Having Gunny around was no burden.

“If they had European accents,” Heather asked, “why would they speak English, that might be overheard, instead of their native language?”

“The report said different accents,” Jeff remembered. “Maybe they speak different mother tongues and English is their shared language.”

“It sounds less and less like a state actor,” April said.”

“Targeting someone they believe came to Home recently,” Jeff said trying to reason it out. “I think we should show this to Jon so he can share it with his security doing entry duty. Is there anyone else we need to tell?”

“What does a new person do first thing when entering Home?” Heather asked. “Seek a banker to open accounts or for currency exchanges, and there is only one with visible offices on the business corridor. Tell Irwin to be watching for them and share the video with him.”

“And Zack at the Chandlery,” April said.

“For spex?” Jeff asked.

“They’re lifting from North America. If North America was sending them, they’d probably be spooks and have access to guns. They wouldn’t be talking about avoiding heavy security areas. Other agencies would clear them through. If they belong to somebody else, they’ll probably want to buy guns. There are two gunsmiths I know of but they don’t advertise for sales like Zack. They both specialize in repairs and custom work.”

“I know who they’re after,” Heather said suddenly. Jeff and April studied her face but she was just pleased with herself and was going to make them ask.

“An epiphany?” Jeff teased.

“Of sorts. My brain suddenly sorted out who I know that has been double-teamed by would-be assassins, Nathan DeWalt, the ex-spox for the Martians. He said two guys blew up his resort cabin in Tahiti. It burned and they figured he was inside, but he was out on the deck and got blown clear into the bushes. Also, I can’t speak to his lineage but he is a small man like the fellow described.”

“Could he ID them off the video?” Jeff asked.

“I doubt it. It was night and he’d just been as close to blown-up as you can get.”

“Well, we can still share it so he might have some warning if they turn up. We should tell Chen your theory too. He might have assets to identify them with a hint they may be Martian agents.

“Absolutely, and I’m obligated to tell DeWalt,” Heather said.

“It seems the right thing to do, but I’m not sure about obligated,” April said.

“I am ,” Heather insisted. “Irwin said Nathan had no beneficiary to name when he got accounts with him. He didn’t know anybody. Irwin turned down the bank receiving it as a conflict of interest. So, he named me because I said I wouldn’t interfere with him living on Home. He imagined that was a great favor. How would that look if I let him get knocked off and inherited a bundle?”

When Jeff facepalmed and started giggling Heather just signed off.

* * *

Mike Morse opened the letter with some skepticism. It looked like it was hand addressed but the software was getting really good at faking that. It even positioned the writing on a bit of an angle and added pen lifts and smears. The last two birthday greetings from his insurance agent and dentist had been very believable. The return address when he checked it online showed a home vacant and for sale in Ohio. When he pulled the card out it was plain and aluminized on the outside to prevent the post office from scanning the contents. He was a little surprised they allowed it to pass on and didn’t kick it out and open it as suspicious. Inside was scribbled: “Good call on those two in the video.” There was also a gift card for a local grocery store for a thousand dollars. It did bother him a little that Pete had pegged which local grocery he favored. He suspected that wasn’t a coincidence.

* * *

Tommy was at the house with Pearl when the Foys came home Saturday night from gold mining. He had on a gray postal uniform so new it still had fold creases from being unpacked. It had the shooting star logo of the Texas Postal Service embroidered and an ID badge with his name engraved. Out front was the fat-tired bike with the same logos on the hard panniers. They went out and admired it before washing up for supper.

Over supper, Tommy described the arrival of a short convoy at the county site. The Texans decided there wasn’t any old station with tanks along the state route that was close enough and secure enough for a garage without excessive demands on manpower. They brought in a tank trailer of gasoline and a small bulldozer on another truck. An armored vehicle front and back escorted them. The front armor had a plow suitable for clearing minor drifts of sand and gravel or fallen trees. If they ran into a heavier rockfall or washout they had the dozer. Fortunately, they didn’t have to unload and use it.

When Tommy left for home, the dozer was making a long trench into which they’d drive the tanker temporarily and park it. A platform over the rear of it would be a pumping station at ground level and the rest would be tarped over. The ramp in front of it was left unfilled for its eventual removal when permanent tanks were installed. The bulldozer would level a few sites for more housing modules to be brought in and it would leave the area with its escort Monday.

When Vic inquired about the nature of his training, he got a surprise.

“The aide handling that now will continue to be a resource for me. He had Councilor Corey sit in when he talked to me. The point he wanted to make was the nuts-and-bolts part of sorting and delivering mail just about any competent adult could do. What they wanted to know was if I could be discreet. They explained a mailman sees a lot of very personal stuff about a person or a family. They get hints about their financial affairs from bank statements and offers they get. They see if they receive prescriptions in the mail or bills from doctors. Even what kind of catalogs they get and you can often tell what parcels may contain. He said a postman often has juicier gossip he has to stifle himself from sharing than a village priest,” Tommy told him.

“That sounds like a Southwest perspective but I can see the principles are universal.”

“I’ll take the savings account deposit, issue a receipt, and hand off the deposit to the clerk at the post office. I can also turn in a withdrawal form and deliver the cash if people can’t come to the post office. I’m not too thrilled about that,” Tommy admitted.

“If you carry cash, are you allowed to be armed?” Vic asked.

“I’m allowed ,” Tommy said. “They volunteered that. They aren’t authorized to issue a pistol and a long gun isn’t very practical on the bike. Maybe after I get a few paydays. I’m not sure how hard it is to buy one under Texas law but I have the local officials on my side.”

“I have a pistol you can borrow,” Alice volunteered.

“No offense, but I’m afraid I might shoot somebody three or four times with that little thing and just make them angry. If they die fifteen minutes later that might be far too late to be of any help to me.”

“You have to go for the head,” Alice informed him. “I’m not offering my twenty-two. It’s perfect for me unless my hands get a lot bigger. I have a nine-millimeter I’ve been holding onto for its value.”

Tommy had a question on his face but before he could say it Vic gave him a single shake of his head ‘no’ from behind Alice’s turned head. Vic didn’t want to open the whole can of worms that the story about her acquiring it involved. Tommy’s eyes on Vic gave away that something had transpired but by the time Alice looked over her shoulder all three of them looked, if not innocent, at least equally guilty.

“What if I lose it?” Tommy worried.

“If you lose it, it will be because somebody took it from you, and you’ll likely be dead,” Alice said bluntly. “Texas probably gives their postal employees a nice life insurance policy. Pearl can pay me for it.”

“You’d make a poor widow pay up?” Pearl asked trying to lay guilt on her.

“You’d stiff a poor orphan?” Alice countered.

“I’d call that a draw,” Vic declared, “and fair warning that you better get paid upfront, or your pistol could be a donation,” he advised Alice.

* * *

“Guys, take a look at this. Chen informs us that his partner Jan used his European connections to ID the Martian agents,” Jeff said. “Jan won’t share his sources, not even with Chen, but he was able to get photos, a list of aliases, and a rap sheet. Jan didn’t say, but Chen says the formatting of the pictures and everything else is unique to Interpol.”

“If he didn’t want us to figure that out, he’d have changed the resolution of the photos and changed the font and formatting of the text into separate documents. He is allowing us to know he has someone deep inside there,” Heather insisted.

“But it’s still deniable,” April said.

“Who would he need to deny it to?” Jeff wondered. “We certainly wouldn’t get upset with him even if he hacked right into their computers.”

“We encouraged both of them to do outside work,” April reminded him. “He might have a client that is a member of Interpol or gives him access to it for their purposes but would be upset he used it for us. We can hardly ask Jan who his other customers are at this late date. Do you feel like quadrupling his salary to have him exclusively?”

“I’d have to do it for Chen too,” Jeff realized and looked uncomfortable. “If you put it that way, I don’t think I want to rock the boat about the present arrangement.”

“Good,” Heather said. “I still think it’s a pretty good deal for everybody. I would, however, share that sheet with all the people we’ve already warned. Jon being law enforcement may recognize the format. I wouldn’t tell Jon where you got it even if he asks. Let him think we have somebody that deep in Interpol.”

“I’ll let April tell him then. He already is trained that she has sources she won’t reveal. He’s a smooth talker and I like him. I’d have a hard time telling him no if he asks.”

“No problem,” April agreed. “I’d just smirk and tell him to figure it out. But he won’t ask me for fear I’ll do just that. You call Irwin and Zack.”

“Thanks, I can handle that,” Jeff said. “What about DeWalt?”

“He’s mine to warn,” Heather said, “remember?”

“Oh, yeah. Is he really worth that much that people might doubt your integrity?”

“You be surprised. He looted all the Martian’s bank accounts,” Heather said.

“Not all ,” Jeff insisted. “I can’t believe they are chasing him off Earth for free .”

It was Heather now who looked surprised instead.

“You’re right. They must have had money spread around somewhere DeWalt didn’t know about in the official accounts. I wonder how much?”

* * *

Shopping for groceries and still having some value left on the gift card was a pleasant experience for Mike Morse. He wouldn’t mind earning another bonus. Contemplating how to do it again was a difficult thought problem. The chances of running into anyone space connected at random had to be very small. It wasn’t like he was in the aerospace industry or close to a shuttle site. He had no desire to even work in some sort of support role. How often would a janitor or a vendor of things like office supplies to a space firm ever chance on something of interest? Anyway, he was well past wanting a regular job again. He did remember he had an employee in the pizza business who was crazy for all things space related. He wore tee shirts with mostly space themes although some of them were fiction or game related. The fellow had babbled on about online groups and conventions a few times. It might be worth doing some online searching when he had a few moments to spare.

* * *

Eileen looked concerned and spoke very carefully when she had Vic alone. “How do you feel about Tommy taking postal deposits? Would you do business through him?”

“No, dear. I haven’t gone soft in the head suddenly. I’m glad his bosses are concerned about privacy but we’re not talking about some family he doesn’t know who lives ten miles away. It’s an entirely different matter dealing with a close neighbor. A neighbor family with whom your family already does business.

“Sad to say, most people if you have more than them, are very good at rationalizing why you should share it with them. Did you see how quickly Pearl wanted to award herself special status as a widow to not be responsible for the loan of Alice’s pistol? I thought Alice’s answer was a good one. That pistol is a significant chunk of everything Alice owns and she has been through adversities of her own.

“Trying to decide who has greater victim status to determine if you are going to honor your contracts just springs from greed. I don’t know that Tommy would think the same way Pearl demonstrated, but I don’t want to find out the hard way. If I have any banking to do with the postal system, I’ll go to the new post office and do my business with the Texan who doesn’t have any other relationship with me.”

“What will you say to him if Tommy says he can handle those transactions for you a lot easier?” Eileen asked.

“I’ll go in and deal over the counter to even get a savings book. There’s no reason Tommy should even know we have an account. If all that talk of privacy is false and he finds out we have an account, I wouldn’t be shy to tell him it would be a conflict of interest for us to do other business and our banking through him. I’d hope he has the sense not to jeopardize Pearl’s nice little side job housesitting for us over that.”

“I had to ask. I didn’t think you were going soft in the head,” Eileen objected.

“Don’t worry about it,” Vic said and smiled at her. “You were the one who convinced me that sometimes you have to trust others. I’ll just consider this conversation as you checking to make sure I didn’t take get carried away with that lesson.”

* * *

“We figure they may come to see you right off the shuttle to buy guns. You are the easiest dealer to find both on the local net and walking down the business corridor.”

Zack fingered the printout nervously and frowned thinking about it.

“Who, or what, are these birds?” Zack demanded. “Government agents or criminals?”

“The first names on their alias list are their legal names,” Jeff said. “ Vasco Simic has a long list of charges and no military record. I can’t imagine a government trusting him to conduct any sort of operation for them. Uldis Ivask has a similar history. Besides solo crimes, he was involved as a minor player in larger criminal enterprises. So, figure them for thugs and criminals. We believe they may be working for the latest version of the Martian government. If you knew what we do about them, you’d consider them a criminal organization more than a legitimate government.”

“Not hard to believe,” Zack allowed. “Do you want me to turn them away if they come in? It sounds like a very bad idea to arm people who you are sure have bad intentions.”

“If you refused them, they’d immediately know we are on to them. I’m not their target or either of my ladies. Besides the target, we’re warning you, Irwin at the bank, and Jon since he’s head of security. Once they demonstrate they are trying to locate their target that will be enough for Jon to act. He’s not hamstrung by all the Earth rules that favor the criminals. He’ll arrest them on the first clear demonstration of intent and wring them dry before expelling them.”

Zack looked seriously dubious.

“They don’t need a reason to hold a grudge against you either,” Jeff said. “You can’t watch your back everywhere you go. They’ll find somewhere else to buy weapons if they have to stop people in the corridor and offer them stupid money for what they are carrying.”

“OK, and I’ll call you the minute they walk out my door armed,” Zack said.

“And we’ll inform everybody else at risk,” Jeff promised.

Zack still wasn’t thrilled about the plan but nodded his agreement.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 24

Irwin Hall regarded his printout with the same distaste as Zack had. However, he had assets Jeff didn’t, and turned to his computer entering data on the two potential assassins.

“I have data outside of law enforcement. The financial world can address a person’s status with brutal honesty whereas the police would tip-toe around making statements that would have to stand up in court. Where the potential loss of money is involved, the systems will report the basis of your credit rating more honestly than your criminal record.

“I know you have your own bank, but you are a boutique operation run out of a laptop. I deal with the whole spectrum of the population. Beam dogs and waitresses walk in off the corridor and want accounts and services. They occupy much more of my day than billionaires wanting to buy apartment retreats on Beta.”

“I may have neglected to learn to use some of those tools,” Jeff admitted. “I got emails offering me memberships but never made time to investigate them. Huian taught me a bit about using the Islamic system. Most of the people I’ve dealt with, you look at the health of their companies and investments rather than a home mortgage or how many ground cars they have leased. I’d appreciate it if you brought me up to speed on what those agencies offer. I never thought of them as a source of intelligence.”

“I’d be happy to do that later when we aren’t dealing with an immediate danger,” Irwin agreed. “I don’t subscribe to a few of the credit agencies who mandate certain reports. I don’t report my customer’s business to the credit rating agencies unless the customer allows it and some can’t accept those terms. Now, which of you is the target of these scoundrels?”

“Neither of my ladies nor myself,” Jeff said. “We believe it is a fellow by the name of Nathan DeWalt who used to be spox for the previous Martian Republic. He entered on an alias.”

Irwin tapped a few keys.

“Right, there is no com address registered to Nathan DeWalt on Home.”

Irwin looked at Jeff as if he might say something but tapped a few more keys.

“There is a Nathan Walters recently added. I suppose that subterfuge will slow these killers down for a whole five minutes or so.”

“He isn’t my customer,” Jeff volunteered. “He hasn’t come to you for accounts? We are quite sure he withdrew all the official accounts of the previous regime when he ran.”

“He would of course have to authorize releasing that information if he were my customer,” Irwin said. “May I ask why you feel there are unofficial accounts?”

“Somebody has to be paying these assassins. I doubt they work pro bono.”

Irwin pursed his lips and looked thoughtful.

“If indeed, he absconded with all their funds, I’d predict the current Republic feels they have title to all the assets of the regime they overthrew. I’m not sure if international law addresses that, if it would apply off Earth, or if there is any meaningful process to enforce it even if such a law exists.”

“Yeah, you’re right. They thought Heather orchestrated it and might be holding the loot because he did warn her of the change of government. We were already wary of landing there and that made her halt the next trip. The Martians run their colony like a cult and have painted themselves into a corner. We’re all in agreement they might pirate a ship given the chance. I’m pretty sure she convinced their lawyer she didn’t receive those funds.”

Irwin just nodded agreement without quizzing Jeff any further. So easily Jeff was sure he already knew where the money went.

“If, as you suggest, the Martians are cultish and would stoop to piracy, I can suggest their secondary source of funds. Anyone who runs such a corrupt enterprise always loots a personal fortune from it. The banking system has untold billions in every currency that are never claimed because the former owner didn’t run soon enough and died with their secret accounts never revealed. I’m sure the current head of state is busy amassing his personal stash into which he could dip. Who knows? He may have found the last fellow’s account numbers and passwords in his safe or simply written on the back of his mouse pad. People are insane when it comes to security.”

“That’s an interesting idea. I’ll have to run that past Heather,” Jeff said.

“What do you want me to do if these gentlemen come in to open accounts?” Irwin asked. “While I’m not obligated to inquire, I’m sure many of my customers have unsavory or outright criminal pasts if I looked deeply enough. I can’t say I blame them when the governments they fled made honesty near impossible. I certainly feel no need to protect the interests of a government you describe as a cult that seems inimical to our interests.”

“I was more concerned they would see you as the only visible banker and knowing Nathan had funds to manage would ask if he was your customer and his whereabouts.”

“And I wouldn’t share that with them, any more than I just did you,” Irwin assured him.

Jeff looked around. There were none of the barriers or security one expected in an Earth bank. Irwin’s desk faced the double glass doors and you didn’t need to be buzzed in.

“These are potential murderers if they haven’t made a start down that career path already,” Jeff explained. “I was concerned about your safety.”

“We have better security here than is readily visible. You might remember I suffered imprisonment by the North Americans and wasn’t intimidated by all their mind tricks. I’m more resilient and difficult to intimidate than you imagine. If you don’t want them denied accounts, what do you want?”

“Just a report to Jon and myself if they are actively hunting Nathan. With everything else we know that’s sufficient for Station Security to arrest them and do an interrogation. Once we do a question list under brain scan, we’ll expel them. What comes after that depends on what we find out from them. If the Martians are sending hit teams to Home, we may need to persuade them that’s a bad idea.”

Irwin regarded Jeff with some alarm.

“Like you persuaded the Chinese that stealing your spaceships was a terrible idea?”

“I’m never going to live that down,” Jeff complained.

“No, as long as the crater is visible from orbit you probably won’t,” Irwin agreed. His computer pinged and Irwin regarded it holding up a forestalling finger to Jeff.

“Well, you don’t have to worry I’ll aid these villains to carry out crimes here. I won’t be loaning them any funds either. The one fellow, Simic, has a history of financial crimes in the Balkans including securities fraud. He has always skipped out before the governing agencies could fine his companies or seize their assets. But he now has four jurisdictions in which he is persona non grata . They both did petty crimes as youths, but Ivask did so clear into his late twenties. I’d guess that Simic is in charge and Ivask is his minion. Neither of them has a current driver’s license or a personal credit card. They lack sufficient records of real jobs, loans, utility payments, or normal street addresses to have a credit score. Someone was supporting them with cash or payment in room and board. Likely some sort of criminal organization. You have no idea how hard it is to live down there so disconnected from their society unless you are in prison.”

“Figure the Martians for the criminal enterprise,” Jeff said. “Prison would show in my reports.”

“You’d think so,” Irwin said, “unless it was suppressed.”

“I’m not sure how the Martians would manage that,” Jeff said. “Their political support in Europe seems to have evaporated.”

“What other sort of support do they have then?”

“Sponsorship from very wealthy individuals who think they are buying a safe haven retreat, and an even smaller elite group with whom they share their secrets and philosophy.”

“You’re privy to all their secrets?” Irwin asked.

Jeff looked at him closely but it didn’t seem to be sarcasm.

“Their core secret is they have an alien starship wreck and are sure if the public knows they will all riot in the streets, burn their houses down, and end civilization. I’m aware April shared that with you. Any other secrets pale before that one. I’m positive they have committed all sorts of crimes against their own people.”

“Do you know why they believe that outcome?” Irwin asked. “It makes no sense to me.”

“I didn’t say it was a rational fear. There are group delusions. Have you heard of cargo cults?” Jeff asked.

“Yes, your point is well taken. I’d have thought, hoped, that a group of well-educated Europeans would be less susceptible to such a group psychosis.”

“The Third Reich happened,” Jeff reminded him.

Irwin let out a sigh. There was no refuting that bout of madness made cargo cults look like an innocent error.

“I keep getting such disturbing answers from you I should stop asking questions but I’ll ask one more. If you and your ladies run around telling people the Martians’ secret this easily, how does it remain a secret anymore?”

“We’ve found that people simply don’t believe us. That’s far from the only secret we’ve held and we used to expend a great deal of effort trying to keep such secrets. We’ve come to find that people simply don’t believe you if they aren’t ready to absorb a different truth than what they already believe.”

“I’ll have to think on that,” Irwin admitted. “Maybe I’m not ready to absorb such a radical idea. I admit you’ve got ahead of me on other matters before. But I will watch for this pair and record anything they say for you.”

“Thank you, Irwin. I appreciate that and I do urge you to be safe.”

“As safe as houses,” Irwin assured him. At his quizzical expression, Irwin told him. “That’s a really old expression that has roots in the English financial system. Look it up.”

“I will,” Jeff promised. He hoped that was safe enough.

* * *

Giving Jan credit, Chen noted in his daily report that France and the North Americans sent small delegations from their respective state departments to the Canary Islands. Both were occupying a private wing of a very expensive resort with no public announcements, very minimal security, and arrived on hired jets instead of aircraft known to be government-owned. Their aircrews were sequestered, and the resort was providing a private chef so they need not mingle with other guests. The whole thing was done so quietly that Jan wasn’t sure the local government was even aware of the meeting.

Jeff called his ladies to see what they thought of that development.

“I’m buried in other work today,” Heather said. “If you can give me a summary of the summary, I can use the time saved.”

Jeff told her the bare bones without details.

“That’s good. It looks like they will hammer out some sort of an agreement on registering and protecting extra-solar discoveries then,” Heather said. “I thought France might give us the courtesy of a heads up when they started that process.”

“If it got leaked, it would look like they are our puppet,” April said.

Heather looked at April like that was bizarre but then she thought about it.

“They don’t understand how we do things, do they? With them, there must be hundreds of people who know bits and pieces about sending that delegation to the Canaries. It doesn’t take but a few facts added up to figure out the whole thing. Given that many people are involved there has to be one who can’t keep his mouth shut. Indeed, I have to conclude that the fact Jan was tipped off about it proves it is true. His source might be as mundane as somebody in food service at the resort. It’s sort of crowd-sourced intelligence.”

That’s similar to how April gathers intelligence, Jeff thought to himself.

“I think Joel would have understood us when he was in power,” April said. “He met us and got to see how minimalist we are. There just has never been any need to meet his successor. We might get along with him just fine but I’m not going to visit the Slum Ball just to develop a relationship with politicians just in case we need it. Not even those who seem to be nominal allies.”

“I suppose I should be glad we don’t have a bunch of embassies,” Heather decided. “They would snoop on us and expect the sort of special privileges I’d never grant them. If we were expected to reciprocate with embassies down there, I could never staff them with the quality of sworn people I’d demand to represent me. All my best people would regard it like a prison sentence. I’d expect most of them to refuse.”

Jeff looked up at that. “I certainly would.”

“Face it. We’re never going to have what the Earthies would consider normal relations with them. We don’t have the population to govern like they do even if we wanted to.”

Jeff put down his pad as a lost cause. “Most of the Western governments have over half their population employed by national, regional, or local government. How would that work here do you suppose?”

“I knew that, because you made me study economics,” April said.

“I didn’t,” Heather said horrified. “Who works ?”

“Why… other than the mob on the negative tax, all of them work, much harder than us,” Jeff said. “For everyone who manufactures a widget, his government struggles to find enough people to regulate how many he may make, what sort of standards they must meet, the price he may charge, how he must treat his workers, and how much tax he owes if the greedy exploiter has any profits to report.”

“I’m sorry I asked. Please, don’t tell me any more. We can get along with just one of us exposed to that sort of economics,” Heather told him.

“After some initial disbelief, April was able to deal with it very well. She has a terrific sense of humor. There’s another little nugget from Chen later on,” Jeff said.

“I haven’t read very far. Just tell us,” April demanded.

“The North Americans canceled a couple of scheduled launches and lifted two loads to the high orbit where they are rebuilding their starship. One load was an inflatable so they intend to increase the crew working on it.

“Why is that significant?” Heather asked.

“It means they are pretty sure they will have a deal with France soon. If they want to be one of the first-tier founders of the agency guaranteeing discoveries they have to show they have the hardware to be in that club. They scrubbed pretty important launches to do that so it must be happening fairly quickly.”

April scrolled down her report to see where that item was located.

“After all the time Chen has worked for us, you’d think he’d know this is more important to us than secret estimates of the North American corn harvest or the increased coal mining in Australia. You’d think he’d put them in a different order of priority.”

“I don’t think it’s Chen being dense,” Jeff said. “If he set the priorities too accurately all the time. we’d be like Heather today and just want the first three or four stories since we are all busy. He wants us to read the whole thing.”

“Chen is managing us?” April asked. She visibly didn’t like the idea.

“Yes, if he wasn’t smart enough to do that, he wouldn’t be of much use to us. I’d bet he is aware of at least some of the mind games you play managing him. He had to submit reports to other bosses on Earth when he spied for China. I’d expect he has all sorts of tricks to get his reports read and given priority from when he was one voice in a flood of information,” Jeff told her.

“Hmmmph. They aren’t mind games. I just like to maintain a certain mystique.”

“Of course,” Jeff said with no sincerity at all.

* * *

Mike quickly found out the space nuts kept a very low profile. Since the rebellion of Home, their interest was a political issue not just an odd hobby. The readily accessible sites all were propaganda pieces. Mike Morse wasn’t an idiot, even those he made sure he wasn’t tagged for visiting. His old employee proved easier to find than a genuine interest group.

“Hi, Rocky? You drop any pies on the floor lately, kid?”

“Oh my God… Mike? You’re still alive? You’re never going to let me forget that. Get over it man. It was just a pizza. They make throwing the dough in the air and spinning it look really easy in the videos.”

“Those are the Olympic gold medal level dough tossers, kid. You were doing OK until you tried to do a quick spin under it and catch it on the way down. You have to toss the damn thing close to sticking to the ceiling to have time to do that.”

“And probably higher ceilings,” Rocky admitted. “I saw in the local news when you sold off your stores. So, you’re not calling to hire me again. Please tell me you didn’t blow all that money and have to start working again.”

“No, I’m still retired, but you can’t sit on your butt all day with nothing to do. I keep a hand in trading a little of this and a little of that and finding stuff for people. I did some work for a guy that deals with spacers and it got me interested in them. Do you still hang out with those people and go to conventions and stuff?”

“It’s changed a lot. You can still be a fan of literary science fiction or classic video, but if you are interested in the reality of what’s happening now it’s a snake pit of politics. The fans, the gamers, and the people who like to dress up don’t want every fourth person at a convention to be from a three-letter agency asking stupid questions to test your loyalty. Bring politics into it and you won’t be able to buy a ticket for next year or even a day pass at the door.”

“Then I guess you don’t have anything like a guest who’s a real shuttle pilot sharing his experiences?” Mike guessed.

“If he isn’t an official spox he’d be risking his career.”

“How about talking to the Spacers directly?” Mike asked. “They could do a conference call on a big screen with an open mic.”

“Nobody is going to be seen going around the firewalls and censors for a big group in a semi-public setting. With two or three people you’ve known for years, yeah. People you know have a day job and not a desk down at XYZ agency. Nobody goes to jail for breaking an actual law these days. You just get put on a list as untrustworthy and your credit rating turns to crap and you can’t get a job with anything connected to the government. Not even a janitorial service or landscaping contractors,” Rocky said.

“What if you just want to nose around on your own without involving anybody else?” Mike asked him. “Just get around the censors and look at the websites and personal sites on the habs and Moon?”

“And webcams,” Rocky said. “There are a ton of public webcams… one hears ,” Rocky added with a different voice.

“We’ve been out of touch too long for you to trust me, haven’t we?” Mike asked.

“Yep. I can’t imagine the CIA recruiting an old pizza maker, but I never would have thought you’d be interested in space stuff either. When things don’t add up it’s time to display extra caution.”

“Who should I approach then?” Mike asked.

“People all over the world want to get around firewalls and censors,” Rocky said. “Being a hacker and cracker is even more dangerous than showing sympathy to a Space Power. You need to find some fourteen-year-old computer whiz who doesn’t care because they won’t throw the book at a juvenile. Do you know anybody with a kid like that?”

“No, but connecting people with odd goods and talents is something I already do,” Mike said with a wink. “This just happens to take that off in a different direction.”

Rocky blinked hard and his mouth opened a little as he had a mini-epiphany.

“You’re looking to make a buck off of them. That was always your thing.”

Mike laughed. “I already made a few. I’m looking to make more . Thanks, Rocky.”

“Sure, Mike. It makes sense now. Those Spacers are filthy rich. You’ll love ‘em.”

* * *

The next time Vic had some business with Mr. Mast, he went across the road to the new Texan government compound. It didn’t escape his eye that the public building facing the fairgrounds across the road didn’t look like a fortress. Unlike the sort of ugly big piles of limestone that North America had been using for the last couple of decades. It looked even worse when such a building was retrofitted with security.

There were lots of thin vertical windows but none wide enough for an adult to pass through. The entry doors were embossed metal, not glass, and the roof was metal too. The actual working buildings behind it were all behind chain-link fencing. The fencing all had plastic slats laced through it for privacy. There wasn’t barbed or razor wire on top like a prison but at the corners and the gate you could see there was barbed tape hung to the inside obscured by the slats.

The fenced areas overlapped at the corners. Vic wondered if it was gated in there between areas but it wasn’t visible. There was a privacy panel behind the one gate open so their activities weren’t on display. The private residence modules were furthest from the road, where the land started to rise again behind all the official buildings. They didn’t have any visible security at all but Vic didn’t believe for a second they were unprotected.

The whole thing reminded Vic that they were now near the border with a hostile power. North America hadn’t seemed in any hurry to reestablish control over the area. There was little in the way of industry and no large tracts of high-output agriculture. It would undoubtedly cost more to integrate the area than would be returned anytime soon. Still, it had to be alarming that the Texans were pushing their borders closer to North America’s core areas. They just might decide they had to roll that back.

When Vic entered the county building there was good signage to find postal services. It was provided through a roll-up window on the corridor, and there was a clerk doing something below the counter out of sight. Vic had a bit more than three ounces of panned gold, in a box about the size of a brick so it wouldn’t seem unusually heavy. That was going to his refiner. He also had a hundred Texan dollars from his Nevada pilot friend. The black-market money changers didn’t scalp him too badly for such a small amount. Once he had a postal savings account, he’d have the refiner make deposits directly to his account.

“May I help you sir?” was said friendly enough.

“I’d like to open a Postal Savings Book,” Vic said. He laid a hundred Texan dollars on the counter. His pilot friend in Utah bought the money for him from very unofficial money changers who parked outside the Chase bank there. He had another four hundred dollars in reserve now to buy postage or whatever.

“Would you like an account linked to your identity or an anonymous number account?”

“I didn’t know there were different sorts,” Vic said. “What are their advantages?”

“The book with your photo ID on the cover has to be presented here or to your postal carrier. You can withdraw funds as cash, treasury check, or money order. Anybody can do a deposit for you. The number account, anyone with the number can make a withdrawal. It can be used to make payments just like a credit card but every payment has to be two-factor verified. Also, once verified you can’t revoke it. As I understand it, very few folks could use that here with no cell or internet service.”

“Major Hemple indicated it wouldn’t be all that long before you have a high-altitude drone providing cell service to several counties,” Vic said. “For now, could I do the verification on a satellite phone?”

The clerk looked surprised. “Let me ask headquarters.” He had to mean real-time because he put his head down and Vic heard keys clicking.

“Yeah, they said to put it in the same space on the form, that any working number is fine. That was a new question to me.”

“Then I believe the number account will work for us,” Vic decided.

At the back of the room a door opened and his neighbor Tommy stepped in. He looked surprised to see Vic but returned Vic’s friendly nod before he turned to do his business.

Vic finished opening his account without trying to drop his voice or hide what he was doing from Tommy. It wasn’t any of his business. If he asked, Vic would tell him the families were already too entwined for Tommy to do his banking too.

* * *

The Associate Secretaries for State from France and the United States of North America clasped hands and held the pose, looking right at the camera instead of each other. Heather watched that with disbelief and made a rude noise.

“It’s amazing to see these government spox, who hate each other’s guts, smile, and shake hands for the camera,” Heather observed.

“Be happy they came to some agreement,” Jeff said. “We needed it to preserve any pretense of peace. Enforcing the L1 doctrine would have gotten ugly. I started reading April’s contingency plans for reducing North America and had to stop. I’d have had nightmares for months. Let’s be thankful for the time gained and use it well. You know that eventually, it won’t be convenient for them to keep their word, and all these promises will vanish. By then, we should have a safe haven or two established, far, far away.”

“The Martians would probably do the same and make public nice-nice with you if you gave them a chance,” April said. “They have rich Europeans to impress with their reasonableness and acceptance by others. It makes them look safer as a retreat. There’s just nothing in it for you .”

“I don’t understand Ear… people,” Heather corrected mid-word.

“I caught that. Earthies was right,” Jeff said. “You both explain our social things to me very nicely. It’s just that they play by a different set of rules and assumptions.”

“If I said that to the newsies, they would run the story three days blasting how prejudiced we are,” Heather said.

“Yes, once upon a time being discriminating was a positive statement about a person, indicating they could choose quality over things of no value,” Jeff said.

“Maybe in a Jane Austin novel,” April told them.

“Have you really read those? Heather asked. “I know of them because of trivia games and crossword puzzles, but have never read any.”

“You do crossword puzzles?” April answered her question with a question.

“Here, I thought you two knew everything about each other,” Jeff said.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 25

April was surprised by the number of news alerts the next morning.

The BBC reports the Indian agency NDTV quotes officials anonymously that the government will construct a militarized starship to secure its membership in the USNA – French agency to warrant territorial claims. That report follows three private pledges to build private exploration vessels. Expect official confirmation in a week.

The Arab news informs us the Kingdom will host a congress of gulf states. The object being to explore a joint effort to secure a founder’s privileges on extra-solar protections.

A congress of Middle and South American states announced they would seek interstellar status and invited Texas to join them. They pointedly did not invite Mexico which was still technically part of North America.

The Russian Republic announced through TASS that they intend to produce superluminal exploration vessels when the technology matures further. They applaud the collective resolve to prevent piracy and aggression from taking hold in the heavens without displaying any desire to join in the effort.

In the Diet, Japanese lawmakers advised caution in quickly embracing any pact on interstellar coalitions until the full benefits and costs are made clear.

Several large aerospace firms assured their stockholders they had the technology and the workers needed to profit from any land rush in the heavens.

The list from three keywords ran to sixty-seven articles. It seemed there was a consensus to get on board even before the technology to create practical explorers was available. It was like Columbus came back from the Americas and all of Europe started frantically designing steel hulls with steam engines and divvying up the land before even the outline of the coast was known. Only Russia and Japan seemed to be taking the logical first steps to actually explore. April had little doubt if they threw enough money and brain-power at it, the Earthies would make significant improvements in jump ships. How much they would share or steal from each other was another good question. Her best guess was they would mostly be competing instead of cooperating. Hopefully, that would slow them down too. April just hoped Jeff could stay ahead of that many Earthies.

* * *

Robert Hoku arrived alone on an electro-bike. It rained just enough to wet the dirt road and his khakis were muddy almost to the knee. It didn’t escape Naito’s attention that he rode the bike down the walk and parked it below his caretaker’s studio out of sight of the road. Being a half dozen homes on a turn-around at the end of a long dirt road they had very few cars drive by lost or seeking a back door access to the nature preserve downhill from them. Did he think he was being tracked or did he think being seen with Naito was a bad idea for his political aspirations?

“Damn, Naito, I couldn’t believe it when I punched your addy in the GPS this morning and it showed a route climbing out of town and along a ridge. I’d already given my wife the car for the day.”

“Walk around with me to the downhill entry,” Nick invited. “There’s a washer and dryer there and I can give you a pair of old pants I keep for gardening or painting. I think I have a couple of inches on you but you can cinch your belt a little tighter.”

“They’ll just get splattered again going downhill,” Hoku objected.

“No, because you can just keep the work pants and toss them or keep them for messy chores like I do. We’ll fold your clean pants and put them in a plastic bag.”

They followed the path that doubled back in graceful curves descending through artfully placed plants, a few sculptures, and stone benches. It might as easily have been a walk through a botanical garden or arboretum. The path led to the pool apron and they walked along under the overhanging balcony. At the rear door, Hoku stopped and looked out across the nature preserve. It was a perfect day in paradise.

Hoku made a sweeping gesture of the house and magnificent view. “You know, there’s no way you can defend living like this. It’s political suicide and an opponent simply has to show an amused disbelieving face to destroy any explanation of it. In every other way, Judy says I should ally with you because you have a great public image. But this is a public relations disaster waiting to happen.”

Naito laughed. “Would you say the same to the doorman at a fancy hotel like he owed it? I’m just the caretaker here and have no ownership interest at all.”

“You’ve had a few small parties here to softly promote certain views. Your guests frankly didn’t believe that story. Every one of them said you have a decent spread of food and drink that would cost a couple of weeks’ wages or more at your pay scale. Every single one of them put a finger to their nose or rolled their eyes with a smirk when they described you as a caretaker. Even if that were true, I’d worry about undue influence from these Spacers. You are employed by foreigners in an exceptionally well-rewarded job. I’d have a hard time advancing you in my administration, worried you were a time bomb waiting for someone to accuse us of corruption. It doesn’t have to be true, just believable.”

“I don’t recall asking for a higher office,” Nick said. “You’d have to give somebody the boot to create a vacancy for me. That could be a problem. You also probably have more people demanding such a reward for supporting you than you have prize tickets to hand out. I’m quite content where I am and have plans to expand the office and do some good for Hawaii before I move on to a different office.”

“Judy gave me the firm impression you’d support me,” Hoku said confused.

“I’d be happy to,” Nick volunteered. “I had a short list I thought might be suitable for PM and a list of those I definitely didn’t want. You weren’t on the first list because I thought you were a little young for the position. Judy convinced me you have some good backing so I can see you growing into the job.”

“I’m a year older than you,” Hoku said.

“And I’m too young for Prime Minister by my own reckoning. You look older and have a family and children. Very decent, well-raised children, everyone tells me. That impresses people more than they will ever tell you directly. A lot of people won’t vote for a bachelor. I’d advise you to fake a little gray at the temples but it’s too late. There are public pix of you out there and somebody would compare them and expose you.”

“I’m not used to such an altruistic attitude,” Hoku admitted.

“Well, if you feel obligated to do something even if I’m not fishing for a quid pro quo, you can support some of the changes and reforms I’d like to put in while you are in office. I think some of them will stand on their own merits. If I do some good work and support the right people think I’ll be rewarded in time. Maybe even the high post a few years down the line. I think there are all sorts of ways to boost trade, and I’m researching with the spacers how to build better roads without asphalt or concrete. If your administration fixes the roads, the people will put up statues of you and tell their grandchildren about you.”

“I’d fix the roads for me if I knew of a workable plan,” Hoku said.

“Let’s toss those pants in the washer and we’ll go up on the balcony and talk. The breeze is nicer up there and it’s not too early to crack open a Paniolo,” Nick suggested.

They stepped into the mud room and Nick got some gardening pants off a shelf. After a glance, he added some socks.

“The washer will auto transfer to the drier,” Nick said.” They will be clean and dry in an hour.”

“They look commercial,” Hoku said inspecting the machines.

“More institutional,” Nick said, “the sort a hotel buys for guests to use or assisted living places for residents. Expensive as hell but Ms. Lewis just said to buy the best and money doesn’t seem to be a concern. I watch the place next door and take care of the lady’s dog too. She’s a friend of both me and April, so I just do that as a favor. She’s up there visiting them on Home right now.”

Hoku’s face did a slow change to mildly confused as he finally accepted Nick’s ceaseless repetition.

“You really don’t own this place, do you?” Hoku asked.

It was everything Nick could do not to scream at him.

* * *

“Did you sleep well?” Simic asked. They were past the halfway mark on their shuttle ride to Home.

“Like a baby,” Uldis Ivask assured him.

Simic was tempted to ask if that meant frequently soiling himself and crying but he’d found Uldis just looked uncomprehending when confronted with his sense of humor. The man was a little dense. Maybe his humor lacked something too.

“I’ve had worse accommodations in a so-called luxury hotel,” Simic allowed. “There’s supposed to be vending at the back of the cabin. I’m going to see if I can get some coffee.”

“I’ve checked it out,” Uldis said. “You can get fancy coffee but the price will wake you up on its own.”

Simic just raised an eyebrow rather than beg the rest of the story.

“A big cup with whatever you want in it is thirty-five dollars Australian.”

“Well, we are a captive audience here,” Simic said. “They’re going to gouge us like being at a stadium or on an airplane. Did you price breakfast?”

Uldis just rolled his eyes in answer.

“I guess we’ll wait to see if it’s cheaper on Home,” Simic decided.

* * *

“The USNA seems to be pulling all the stops out to finish their starship,” Chen reported. “I’m impressed. You can throw unlimited money at it but fabricators only work so fast and there is only room for so many technicians until they are elbow to elbow. We haven’t seen anything that looks like an assembly robot. They may not have developed the kind of zero-g ‘bots our small shops have.”

“Yeah, I know Dave guards the details of his jealously. Especially the software,” Jeff said.

“Are they throwing enough money at it to trigger exponential inflation?” April asked.

“You can probably judge that better than me,” Chen admitted. “You know it cycles, running up until there is a default but not at any set period. The current curve started turning up with the war against the Texans. All the spending to disperse the bureaucracy and the military pushed the curve up a little. I think the development costs are already baked into those numbers and rebuilding the ship isn’t going to show up as a strong signal on the chart. Unless some new disaster forces spending, I don’t see another spike.”

“Good, because we need to make some significant purchases for the Prospector. Not that North America will sell to us directly, but it will probably be done through Australia with a little fee tacked on,” April said. “It’s kind of crazy that we make some of the most advanced chips here in zero-g, but have to pay big money for the common stuff like lighting controls and small motors it doesn’t pay to make here. We can’t source it all without a few North American items.”

“Well, we could run those sorts of parts on fabricators and hand assembly instead of mass production,” Jeff insisted, “but it would cost more than having them smuggled. A lot more.”

* * *

Uldis and Simic walked away from the security desk at the South hub stunned. Uldis looked like he was bursting to discuss it but they were used to extensive surveillance in public places. Simic picked his least used and most valuable fake ID to present on entry, only to have it waved away by the security officer as irrelevant. He stood frozen at the idea of being invited to choose any name he wanted. He had three aliases that he imagined were pretty safe and a dozen more that were all burned in at least one jurisdiction.

“Whatever you like, no matter what your mother named you,” the officer encouraged him. It was said in good humor but followed by a meaningful glance at the line waiting behind him. “We’ve registered entries for Donald Duck and Buckeroo Banzai,” she assured him.

Simic took a deep breath shoved his credentials back in his pocket and declared himself Gavrilo Princip.

“Welcome to Home, Mr. Princip,” she said without the least hint of recognition. There was no alarm on his genetic code which was his last worry. She touched a button that laser cleaned the ceramic touch screen he’d swiped and he was done. The simplicity of it defied belief. Gavrilo managed a courteous nod of thanks and stepped out of the way so his minion could enter.

“This is crazy,” Uldis said. That was a general enough statement to be safe for listening ears. He glanced at the overhead like he might be able to tell the cameras and audio pickups from the lighting fixtures and sensors.

The elevator had a limited directory and showed a business area with a cafeteria down at the one-g level. They rode down with a few others in silence while the last two men who got on chatted about some sort of business deal. There weren’t any ads in the elevator, neither screens nor audio. It felt odd to them since they were used to a constant flood of advertising anywhere there was a captive audience. Even his last dentist sold advertising rights to his waiting room.

When the doors opened, a man was waiting to take the elevator up with an antique Uzi hanging on a cross-sling with the grips forward. His left arm was resting along the top of it. He wasn’t in a blue uniform like the entry port security. Rather, he had on clearly civilian clothing of khaki pants and a paisley print shirt.

Used to European terrorism that cycled up and down but never went away, Simic sidled behind the big fellow in front of him for cover. The man in the corridor smiled and stepped further to the side to clear the way for the occupants to leave the elevator. Nobody paid him the least mind. It took every bit of nerve he had to walk past and not look back. Especially since he and Uldis were the stragglers of the group presenting their backs to the armed man.

The corridor was more luxurious than Simic expected. Nicer than the sort of small, exclusive, members by application or invitation shopping mall that was common in monied Europe now. Besides being carpeted and spotless, it was broken up into short sections by kiosks, art islands, and even a fountain. The facades of the businesses were unusually open and transparent, but he hadn’t expected so many potted plants and wood trim in a place with no trees. The people were very different. They smiled for no discernible reason, and looked right at you, not turning their gaze away when your eyes met. Everyone seemed middle-aged and at least half of them had visible weapons. Their dress was eclectic to the extreme. In the space of three corridor sections, he saw a young man bare-chested with Capri pants, a man in Arabian robes, a space suit liner with electrical connections and tubes dangling, and a mustached man in lederhosen.

Simic stopped at the glass wall of an employment agency to look at the screens scrolling offers. A lady inside at a desk with screens noticed and checked them out. She stretched and her powered chair sensed that and went through an accommodating routine before returning to its previous shape. They didn’t appear to be of any special interest to her and she returned to work.

“She looked at our feet right away,” Uldis said. That was unusually perceptive of him.

“Yeah, everybody wears grippy socks or those dainty little slippers. Hardly anybody wears full lace-up shoes. I suppose we better find out where to get some if we want to blend in,” Simic said.

Uldis dropped his voice. “Check out the lady in the Day-Glo. That stubby bullpup she has is the latest paratrooper issue for the Russian Republic.”

The woman stopped to look in a shop down the corridor. Her lime green garment started changing at the wrists and ankles fading to a plain white that spread to the entire jumpsuit as he watched.

Uldis blinked. “That’s quite a trick. I wonder if it has a play-list it cycles through?”

“Probably,” Simic agreed. She turned away and the white shifted to a road map of New York City. Even Simic recognized it from the distinctive Central Park. “That takes a lot of computer power. I wonder if her spex run it?”

“We need those too if you want us to blend in,” Uldis said. He’d worn high-end spex for jobs but had to turn them back in when his assignment was done. Most of them had some sort of proprietary software the company held closely. He’d never wanted to pay for his own since the public wasn’t allowed to wear them in so many venues on Earth. If you were working as a waiter, everyone presumed the restaurant kept control of the images and audio recordings to protect your privacy. But as a customer, your private spex weren’t welcome. Uldis knew better. His employers never bothered to remove the recording icon that stayed on in his company spex. Both security and floor personnel got alerts if the facial recognition was triggered by someone who’d caused trouble at another business. If they shared that, what else did they share?

Simic turned away and kept walking.

“Ah, look what we have here,” Simic said. “A chandlery. Just what we need.”

“I wouldn’t expect much of a yacht crowd here,” Uldis said confused.

“They have private spaceships. If you think about it, Home is a huge vessel,” Simic said. “You know it used to circle Earth and they brought it out here beyond the Moon.”

“I remember that,” Uldis said, “but I don’t recall if they ever said why .”

“I don’t believe that’s something the Earth side of it would ever want to discuss in public,” Simic assured him.

* * *

“Our main crew got a tour of the Prospector, ” Jeff told his ladies. He was smiling.

“Were any of them upset they weren’t consulted about the design?” Heather asked.

“I hadn’t anticipated that,” Jeff admitted. “They were more in awe. First, at the sheer size of her, like April, then the fact the master and mate have private cabins. Tiny cabins with a meter and a half square private head but cabins nevertheless.”

“I know they see themselves as a family if non-traditional,” April said. “They’ve declared that plainly. We can’t plan the ship around that. It will almost certainly fly with entirely different crews none of whom may be related. I did as much as practical to make it flexible for them by giving the officers cabins double bunks and the crew quarters are all modular and can be configured any way they please. That’s why I asked for those specs. They don’t even have to use the cabins if they don’t want to but they are there for future crews. It would have been too hard to retrofit them later.”

“None of them are stupid,” Heather said. “I’m sure they could figure that out on their own. We can hardly make any judgments about their arrangements.”

“What?” Jeff asked. “Your face and voice changed. You did everything but tack a but on the statement.”

“It isn’t any of my business… But I do wonder if they are flexible enough to include Laja or Johnson?”

“I don’t know. They brought Kurt in,” Jeff said, “but that evened the genders up. How would you feel about bringing another guy in with us?” He said it in clear humor but his ladies were horrified.

“Evening things up would be a horrible reason,” Heather said. “It’s not like acquiring a fourth for cards or balancing guests for a dinner party. I don’t think it’s something we could plan . We would just need to find somebody organically who is compatible with all three of us. We aren’t lacking in anything that needs rebalancing.”

She stopped and frowned.

“More than compatible. That is far too close to tolerable . People even go into arranged marriages and succeed at them. That seems perfectly reasonable for some personalities and cultures. Otherwise, a lot of people might never get married at all.

“It beats marrying the blackjack dealer at New Las Vegas because you were drunk. We don’t need a fourth to accept anyone who would diminish what we have. It’s hard enough for most people to find one person they can stay in love with for life. To find three who all have bonds as strong as us must be very rare. What are the chances of finding a fourth?

“I realize we have stresses even most couples don’t have to manage,” Jeff said. “We have political and business pressures that require we all contribute and can agree on actions without arguing every little detail. Problems and stresses that couples who just work a mundane job leave at work when they come home. Neither of you has been quick to keep score when I screw up and could have served our interests better. I don’t feel we have the problem of resentments building up.”

“The only way you don’t make mistakes is if you refuse to do anything,” April scoffed.

“You see?” Jeff asked. “How did I ever chance on anyone so reasonable? Or as sensible as Heather?”

“How did I chance on anyone as smart as you or as selfless as Heather?” April asked.

“You will do for me, for now,” Heather told them magnanimously. At least it wasn’t said in the majestic plural.

April held up a wagging finger and looked thoughtful. They waited on her.

“I’ll make a prediction,” she offered.

“You know I’m not into wagering and making us beg is a time-waster. Spit it out,” Heather demanded.

“If Johnson and Laja get absorbed into that crew it will be if they become a couple first themselves.”

Jeff and Heather looked a question at each other for thoughts.

“You know I’m weak in social things,” Jeff admitted.

“It makes a weird sort of sense,” Heather said, “but I’m having a hard time figuring out why it feels right to me.”

“I’d accept just about anything April says if she declares it’s obvious,” Jeff said.

“Not obvious but I can explain it. The crew isn’t a four-way perfect match of personalities. I think Barak and Deloris are a couple and Kurt and Alice are a couple by preference even if it didn’t start that way. All their chaotic shifts and schedules mean they can’t always be with whom they favor. But they accept that. Now if they would ever say that out loud is another question. It wouldn’t surprise me if it is unacknowledged. It seems to me it would be as destructive as a mother admitting she has a favorite child.”

“I got that sense from little things like where they sit and whose plate they steal from,” Heather agreed.

“So, it would be two couples accepting another couple,” April explained. It’s much easier to see the math of a two into three-way match working than the hopelessly complex fiction of four perfectly matched people achieving harmony with two more.”

“Does that compute for you? Jeff asked Heather.

“I think that April should write an anonymous advice column for What’s Happening I bet Wiggen would make her a regular if she can unravel how complicated relationships like that work.”

“I’ve never heard Wiggen admit it’s her gossip site,” Jeff said.

“It’s an open secret,” Heather insisted. “I’m not sure it’s fair to lump it in with all the trashy gossip sites. It always has real news too, not just rumors. April could just apply anonymously to the editor with a throwaway addy.”

“I might do that when they add another hour to the day,” April said. But she was thinking about what Jeff said. He was weak in social things. He’d admitted as much before. But it suddenly occurred to her that it wasn’t a weakness in their relationship. He hadn’t come to them with a bunch of social pre-programming. That was perhaps better left unsaid since he was an ongoing project.

Chapter 26

The chandlery didn’t have a guard or security gates. Looking back at the employment shop they didn’t appear to have any security either. Examining all the signage it said nothing about members only. Most desirable stores in Europe and North America were members only to exclude people with a history of retail theft or a horrid credit rating. One didn’t just walk in off the street and buy a membership account. If he walked in without a store chip card, they couldn’t blame him if an alarm went off. Despite his doubts, Simic decided to just march right in and see what would happen. He didn’t see the clerk sitting behind the computer and pay terminal.

“Welcome gentlemen. How may I help you?” Zack asked.

Simic was stunned speechless for a moment. Part of the reason he didn’t see him was because he was so short . On Earth, the social standards had swung once again to hiding people with Dwarfism or any other sort of deformity from the public view. While legally equal, no business would hire such a person to represent them to the public as a sales clerk. The idea Zack might be the owner was completely outside his ability to imagine.

Zack recognized the deer-in-the-headlights freeze of someone confronted with something outside their experience that made them uncomfortable. He dealt with this on Home less frequently than on Earth but it happened. It always was simpler to ignore it and let the person come to terms with it rather than say anything. A confrontation over it would almost guarantee there was no recovering them as a customer from either hostility or embarrassment.

It was not only Earth Think, in the case of these two their shoes, haircuts, and lack of weapons or spex made it certain it was fresh Earth Think right off the shuttle untempered by any time for acclimation. He’d have known that even if Singh hadn’t shared their pictures. Zack was a lot more willing to forgive that and give them a chance to reform themselves than a long-time Homie who could never get comfortable with him.

The little fellow was smiling at him. It didn’t help much because it just accentuated that his head was disproportionately larger. Zack had a full-sized set of magnificent teeth displayed in his smile. And Simic was smart enough to see he was straining to hold that friendly smile despite Simic’s discomfort. Unlike his minion, Simic was even smart enough to know intellectually that his discomfort wasn’t rational.

“We’re newly off the shuttle and have never been to Home before,” Simic said. Stating the obvious gave him some time to compose himself without really thinking about what to say too much.

“Welcome to Home. I’ve been here since the time of the revolution. It was different then and I understand it is still diverging from Earth customs. Don’t be shy to ask about local customs. We are still operating a lot more from custom than law. The Assembly seems bent on keeping the body of law small.”

Simic nodded. That helped because it invited something he wanted to talk about.

“We see a lot of people visibly armed. Is that something allowed visitors? What can be bought and how difficult is the process?” Simic asked.

“The Assembly in their collective wisdom has put no restrictions on how any adult may be armed. So far, the people have shown restraint in not insisting on arming their minor children or carrying weapons that might cause a serious loss of pressure or structural damage. Nobody is crazy enough to carry explosive ammunition inside pressure. Residents are equal to citizens in every way but voting and taxes. If you want to have a vote on the laws and the budget you have to voluntarily submit to taxation.”

Just when he was starting to relax that glazed over Simic’s expression again while he tried to process it.

“You are saying that paying tax is voluntary? I mean, not in theory but really ?”

“Yes. I don’t know if you intend to stay or if you are just visiting on business,” Zack said. “But if you intended to stay and live here, wouldn’t you want a say in how everything is run?”

Behind Simic, Ivask was a little slower but finally realized this wasn’t a joke or meaningless propaganda and uttered a long low curse in some Slavic tongue.

“That’s…. unusual, or at least outside our experience,” Simic acknowledged speaking slowly. “I suppose it would depend on how steep the tax is. Do most folks find it a barrier to participation?”

“I don’t know that anyone collects exact numbers but I pay about five percent of my income to taxes.”

“Amazing. We’ll be going back home, but it sounds like a terrific bargain,” Simic said. “I’m surprised I’ve never seen anything about it in the news.”

“I’d guess that’s suppressed by most governments,” Zack said. “Their citizens might grow discontented and want the same.”

“Probably.” Simic felt a little twinge of that discontent already even though he worked off the books and hadn’t paid any taxes in years.

“Can you provide two nine-millimeter pistols?” Simic asked. “We’re not picky. Even used in sound condition and a box of ammunition would serve us.”

“Do you think you’ll wrap your business up in a week?” Zack inquired.

Simic was tempted to ask what business that was of his but forced some unnatural congeniality and agreed that was likely.

“Then I can rent you a complete rig,” Zack offered. “A pistol, with a full magazine and your choice of several holsters. It’s cheaper than buying and easier to turn in before your return flight. No deposit required but if you shoot any of the ammo you will be charged for what you use.”

Zack quoted his rock bottom price. Neither of these Earthies looked all that affluent. He quoted a price in Australian dollars that would be a lot more expensive in euromarks. At least it would stop the depreciation of Simic’s oldest money.

“That is a savings and less hassle,” Simic agreed. “We’ll both want one with a concealed holster.”

Zack started tapping the computer for the inventory bot to bring the goods to his sales counter. “If you run short of time for your shuttle or just want to stay armed right to the gate, give them to any of the station security officers and they’ll know to return them to me. So far, I’m the only one doing rentals.”

Simic didn’t care for an ancient Hi-Point C-9 but for the price, he wouldn’t argue. Zack laid out three kinds of holsters and a choice of two kinds of ammunition. At least the springs seemed good and stiff when he loaded the magazines. Ivask picked out his holster without being prompted. Simic waved his irrevocable Visa at the pay plate and didn’t upset himself by looking to closely see what the currency conversion cost.

“Anything else today?” Zack asked cheerfully.

“Everyone seems to wear spex,” Simic said. His voice framed it as a question.

“It’s pretty hard to do without them,” Zack agreed. “Just the 3D mapping makes life easier. They’ll show you the quickest route between addresses. Most businesses have their inventory online in real-time and you can check things like the daily specials at the cafeteria and how long the line is there. I always have the best-selling current model for sale and when the previous one sells out that’s it. I don’t restock. Right now, we have the Fiy and I’m out of the LG/Xiaomi from last year. I won’t try to carry ten or twelve brands.”

“How much?” Simic asked.

The cost made Simic clutch his chest in mock arrest.

“I know, but people buy the fanciest one with all the features every six months to a year. If you would be happy with an older model, I know a young fellow, Eric, who sells used. He’ll sell you something basic but useable, with all the local maps and apps loaded for a couple of hundred bucks. He guarantees it for six months and if you wear them back to Earth, you’ll be able to sell them at a profit.”

“How much is the service to run them?”

“We all pay for it in our utilities along with power, air, and water. There aren’t ever enough non-residents on the station to make setting up billing for it profitable. You can register on Home.net with your entry ID and it will be revoked when you log off the station if you don’t declare residency. So forward anything you want to save to another account. A lot of these services are subsidized by Mitsubishi. Even the cafeterias are run near the break-even point to attract the best people.”

“What does Mitsubishi have to do with it?” Simic wondered.

“They built it. It’s Mitsubishi 3, built by the North American subsidiary. Mainly to attract North American talent. The Japanese considered it a hardship post. It changed ownership after the rebellion but I’m not familiar with how that worked. For all that I know they sold it back to the parent company for a buck.”

“I sort of assumed you nationalized it when you broke away,” Simic said. “That’s how things are done.”

“Japan has been good to us. I can’t imagine any excuse for stealing it. They’ve been good landlords and they helped us during the war.”

Simic sat assimilating all that for a moment. Zack let him think without babbling. Home was often overwhelming to new people.

“We need the spex,” Simic said, “but we’re hungry and tired. Point us at that cafeteria and we’ll get a meal and come back to arrange the spex before we look for rooms.”

“No need. I’ll send him to find you in the cafeteria. I’ll just tell him to look for the new guys.”

“I’d like to not be that obvious soon,” Simic said.

“In that case, you better ditch the shoes, the clothes, and get a much shorter haircut,” Zack suggested.

“I bet that’s all as expensive as everything else here.”

“Yes, but if you aren’t on any schedule to return you could take a few day jobs. We have a labor shortage, and you can make decent wages doing something as simple as feeding a dishwashing machine.”

Simic was shocked at the idea and it showed.

“And when you talk to Eric, have him show you in the map function where to find a couple of lay preachers. I’m told they collect old clothing and household things for the needy. I know Eric gives them spex so old or limited they are only good for kids or that kind of charity. So, he knows them. Their clothes wouldn’t be fancy, but the price is right.”

Simic wanted to shout at him that he wasn’t a dishwasher and they weren’t charity cases but he ground his teeth and swallowed it. Maybe they would be charity cases if they didn’t find DeWalt. That would make it too dangerous for them to go back to Earth.

* * *

“Jeff?” Zack left a message when Jeff didn’t answer. “Your two desperadoes are armed with pistols and headed to the cafeteria. They just stink to high heaven of Earth Think and the one who did the talking locked up solid for a few seconds when he saw me. He’s not used to allowing monsters out in public. You may find it interesting they seem to be on a tight budget although they have an irrevocable business Visa. They needed to buy old used spex from Eric to economize. I suggested some day work if they are tight. I got the strong impression he finds mundane employment unsuitable to his status. So, you are served notice, they are armed and out and about.”

* * *

The news release said the governments of France and North America had agreed in principle to consolidate their registry of interstellar discoveries to uniform standards and make provision for the sharing of the surplus wealth and benefits to those states unable to join in the actual exploration or the protection and development of those resources.

Heather read that and decided they had it all mapped out and were withholding the details until the smaller states saw the joint association as the only game in town and committed to it. She was certain that meant the cost of those benefits was going to be a shocker for them. Central wasn’t going to share their information or their resources and could protect their own discoveries very well, thank you.

Heather suspected any Spacers going exploring would also opt out and possibly a few of the Earth nations. Japan had a history of isolation. She couldn’t see them agreeing to open up any of their discoveries to others who would dilute their culture there. Russia also had a history of fragile relations with others over the exploitation of their earthly resources. Heather couldn’t see them giving away much from any heavenly possessions to outsiders wanting cheap materials. She felt much the same about Central’s wealth.

* * *

Simic was impressed with the cafeteria. It was the first thing they’d encountered that wasn’t horribly overpriced. He allowed it must be expensive to transport food from Earth to explain some of the cost. He had no idea the majority of it came from the Moon now. In fairness, news on Earth encouraged the falsehood that the Spacers were entirely dependent on Earth for food and other things they now produced for themselves. Indeed, prices in the cafeteria were down by almost half from a decade prior.

The help was friendly and helpful, It was a shock in a company cafeteria. They’d decided to buy a week pass to the cafeteria for not much more than Simic was afraid he’d need to spend in a day. He would have paid that much at any of the private clubs. His salad with grilled chicken had greens far fresher than he expected and his minion, Uldis Ivask, declared the cabbage rolls in sour cream to be just like his grandmother used to make. Simic took from his approving tone that was a good thing.

Eric found them before they finished dessert and coffee so their mood was much better than Zack had to deal with. They weren’t hungry now and the fear of what food might cost was eased. They were tired but the coffee staved that off for now.

Simic was surprised Eric looked to be about seventeen. It seemed almost everyone was thirty-five give or take. He’d only seen one little girl of eight or nine years go past in the corridors. He had no idea how much early life extension delayed aging or the little tell-tale signs of it in older folks. Eric presented his card double-handed and waited standing until invited to sit opposite them. It was a public cafeteria, after all, anyone could have sat there. He wasn’t used to such courtesy or formality from young people.

The oldest spex Eric brought were five years old. He apologized they didn’t support many new add-on modules for such things as medical sensing or the more intensive veracity programs. Simic was well satisfied with two very basic spex that set them back four-hundred forty dollars Australian. It hardly seemed worth making a personal delivery at that price but Eric also pitched his other services from courier work to light manufacturing. If the kid didn’t do something he seemed eager direct you to somebody who could. Simic has seen that sort of well-connected local operator before. He figured there was a finder’s fee or percentage for him attached to every referral.

“How heavy is the surveillance on Home.com?” Simic asked. The kid was a real entrepreneur and seemed sharp. As a native, he should know the straight story about how intensively they were watched. He dropped his voice lower which was silly. If they had mics in the cafeteria, they’d pick up mouse footsteps. If a wild mouse was to be found on Home.

“Home.com is wide open to Earth,” Eric said. “You can search by name if it isn’t withheld, or by account number even if the name is shielded. The restrictions are all on the other end. Most Earth governments block at least part of Home.com. The minutes of our Assembly sessions and announcements of public services like Security for sure. It’s all too politically sensitive. In the other direction, you can access anything any system on Earth allows its own citizens. Sometimes more if your skills are up to it,” he said with a wink.

“But how much does the local system suck in?” Simic insisted. “Do they run keywords or deeper AI analysis? Do they run facial recognition and track location logs on the spex?”

“If security snooped on us like that somebody would invite Jon to meet them in the North corridor before breakfast and face off with pistols. If a mob didn’t shove him out the airlock in his tighty-whities first.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Deadly serious,” Eric assured him. “I lived down there. I went to the public schools down there where it was like a prison and you never felt safe. That’s all the Earth Think and oppression that Home rebelled against. They aren’t going to let it take hold here again.

“Now as far as the facial recognition, Jon wouldn’t dare run that on us. Nobody who supplies Security with data services or hardware would help him do that and we vote on his budget annually so such a huge expenditure would be obvious.

“But there are cams all over the public areas and corridors because all the space nuts like to log on and see what is happening. They watch us like some people do an Eagles Nest Cam or the webcam on Times Square. Anybody on Earth could run the facial database they have against those cams even if they aren’t optimized for that purpose.

“Most of the people here came up from Earth, so they are probably in some state or company’s records. There’s nothing they can do to their former citizens, so nobody has tried to take down the Space Cams. Most countries try to block the cameras just like they block Home.com, but anybody who wants to badly enough can learn to get around it. Most people don’t care about us enough to make the effort. There is just a small group who’d like to come up and can’t, or who find us fascinating to watch.”

Simic smiled a brittle horrified smile wondering how many Earth agencies monitored those feeds and were aware of where he was now. They could then watch the very limited number of return flights he and Ivask could be on. Ivask wasn’t terribly bright but street smart about surveillance. The look of dread on his face said he was considering the same thing. Eric wasn’t stupid and could see how deeply that disturbed Simic. What kind of history did they have on Earth to fear showing their faces in public? He wisely didn’t intend to pry into what wasn’t his concern.

“So, do you want me to set you up with a Home.com account?” Eric asked.

“Yes please, but with the name blocked,” Simic said. It suddenly seemed a very bad idea to have expressed his sense of humor by taking the name of a historic troublemaker.

* * *

“Jon, this is Ruby in the cafeteria. I just sold one-week cards to two Earthies fresh off the shuttle and dressed for dirtside. They seem terribly concerned about funds and one paid for them both. I saw Eric Pennington meet them and sell them junk spex, so they’ll be newly registered today. They were no trouble at all for me but they set off all my alarm bells for shifty characters. I fully expect to hear they ended up creating a problem for somebody. That usually means trouble for you too. Here’s a spex shot of them attached.”

Jon passed that on to Jeff who informed Irwin, his ladies, and Zack how things were progressing. They all liked Ruby and were amused at how quickly she tagged the bad guys.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 27

Vasco Simic and Uldis Ivask would normally have complained about the sign instructing them to put their plates in the cart by the exit. Cleanup was for menials. They were however trying to keep a low profile. That was impossible since their appearance made them as obvious as a cow in the church pews, but they were on their best behavior. A look at either’s criminal record would show how seldom they made the effort.

They retained their mugs however and were luxuriating in a free refill. A custom that disappeared from working men’s cafes about the time of their grandfathers. Simic took the opportunity to use his new spex. He and Uldis weren’t big on pointless chit-chat.

“I’m having trouble understanding what makes this place work,” Simic said.

Uldis just nodded his head in agreement. If Simic didn’t understand something, Uldis rarely had any superior insight to offer. He wasn’t stupid he was merely average. He’d learned to just grunt and nod when Simic wanted to use him as a rubber ducky.

“I’m looking at the records of the last few Assemblies where people vote on their budget and community actions. They retain the power to declare war! They stand up and say things that would see you dragged out by the police and never seen again back home.”

Uldis nodded gravely and sipped his coffee.

“Their tax rate is so low it would be ridiculous to waste your time protesting it. And if you really are too cheap to pay what isn’t even a decent sales tax rate for all-inclusive services you can opt-out .

“I expected every aspect of security I consider normal at home, but was slow to see why it is absent. They have no opposition to worry about. All their opposition is external. They don’t need to keep an iron grip because they don’t repress anyone.”

“I’m surprised no bad boys have rolled in and taken them over,” Uldis said.

“They’ve tried . The USNA docked a spaceplane full of Marines in vacuum armor and tried to invade,” Simic said.

“I never saw that on the news. How’d that go down?” Uldis asked.

“The first team got blown to hell before they ever reached pressure. Their shuttle was blown clear and folded like a stomped-on juice box.”

Uldis just raised his eyebrows.

“The second team got in at the other end of the station unopposed. Three of them survived fighting their way back across the station to the business sections, until those last three walked into a hotel, right up to a Claymore mine.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. Looking at all the hardware they are strutting in the hall out there it looks like they are ready to do it again anytime somebody wants to give it a go. As far as something much smaller than an invasion – say, robbing one of these stores. Where are you going to run? You have to have a shuttle ticket to leave. It would be like robbing a jewelry store back home and then waiting outside for the bus.”

That actually made Uldis laugh.

“I’ll tell you the truth. I never wanted a legitimate job, all above board and paying taxes, because I saw too many guys bust their butts making other people money, and get cheated of their retirement and ruined in the end. This place seems to give the little guy more of a break than I thought possible.

“I’d stay here if I could figure out how ,” Simic said. “I can’t see trying to do it dead broke and we’re on a short leash. I have to send a message every week or two explaining what we’re going to do and get enough transferred to our card to do that. Our Shuttle tickets to here and the pistols and spex used over half of the last deposit. I expect getting anywhere to sleep will eat up the rest of it in short order.”

Uldis thought about it carefully. Very seldom did he get out in front of Simic on anything but he had to call him on this.

“How do you know he does that?” Uldis asked.

“Well, if he didn’t, I could go to a bank and cash out the balance. I could drop the mission and tell the Martians to all go to hell.”

Uldis shrugged.

“I wouldn’t call my bank with an interplanetary message every week and keep making small transfers. I’d just lie to you about it.”

Simic looked skeptical and stretched his lips into a thin hard line. He sat thinking about it, blinking, and the more he thought the more his brow scrunched up.

“Damn. I’ve been a fool,” he decided.

“Not to hurt your feelings but you do have an honest streak. Maybe you should go legit.”

“I’m not sure how to find out what the real balance is though,” Simic admitted. “I certainly wasn’t given access. I tried calling up a balance months ago and it was blocked.”

“There was a bank out there in the hall. Maybe the possibility of a hefty deposit would make him try to find out. I don’t know banking stuff, but I’d just tell him the truth and see if he’ll help. I don’t think they will waste much effort to see to the Earth’s interests here, and I have yet to see anybody willing to help the Martians for free.”

“Why the hell not? It will feel weird to tell him the straight story,” Simic said.

“Do you still want to partner or is this your way of telling me we’re done working together?” Uldis asked. Things were going a lot smoother in his life since he’d been working with Simic. He knew he needed Simic more than Simic needed him. If he was dumped maybe he’d at least buy him a ticket back to Earth. The down leg was much cheaper.

“It’s always good to have an ally unless you decide you want out,” Simic said. “If you do, I’ll bankroll you if I can extract anything from the card. We have to go find out.”

“No hurry. We were on the tail end of lunch so they should be open for hours. Sleep is for sissies. Do you think the lady will yell at us if we go for another coffee?” Uldis asked.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Simic said.

* * *

“Extend our boundary markers a few hundred meters short of the halfway point between us and Armstrong,” Heather told Mo. She had an overhead view and pointed out where she meant with her finger.

“We want a paved landing field and room further away from the road for another private field inside our markers if I decide to develop it in the future. Put radar markers and strobes on the corners and standard SpaceX markers spaced a hundred meters apart. We may make other facilities later when we know what is needed better.”

“For how many ships?” Mo asked.

“Two hundred should do it,” Heather decided. “Make sure the paving can support ten times the pad loading of the Prospector or we’ll be redoing it too soon.”

At Mo’s shocked face she explained.

“This isn’t for our ships. It’s primarily for any Earth explorers who want to avoid returning to Earth’s orbit. It wouldn’t surprise me if they collectively decide they don’t want that many armed ships massed in LEO. Even ships with range limited weapons. They have no reason to trust each other on that. Short of scrapping the L1 doctrine, we’ll remove any barrier we can to them adopting a commission. I’m still shocked they are doing something so sensible. Do you have somebody to do the job?”

“I have a new young architect who has been begging for projects outside his narrow specialty. I think this is right up his ally.”

“Good, I don’t want you overloaded and neglecting yourself,” Heather told him.

* * *

The two scoundrels Singh warned him about were lurking in the corridor checking out his bank. He’d gotten used to Earthies doubting they had the right place or that it was a bank since it didn’t look like a prison or fortress. They both looked rather tired.

Just in case Jeff was right and they were stupid enough to get threatening with him Irwin activated his defenses. There was a device on the front of his desk that combined the idea of a Claymore mine with a grenade technology the Israelis developed for urban warfare. It would throw a cloud of grit out that was lethal within two meters of the desk but simply stung for another half meter beyond that. It didn’t reach the entry doors at all.

“Computer, set desk charge active on my voice only, please. The trigger word is Budapest. Initial syllables remain active once spoken for ten minutes. Acknowledge command is active and repeat instructions,” Irwin said. The system reported to his satisfaction.

“May we speak to you about possibly opening an account and ask your advice on a financial problem?” Simic asked when they finally came in.

“Certainly. We’re always happy for new business,” Irwin allowed. “Have a seat, please. May I offer you any refreshment? A coffee perhaps?”

“Thank you but no. We’re already running on caffeine and out of sync with your clock. We delayed sleep on the way from Earth then slept later than our normal schedule, and are sort of in a jet-lagged condition. We’ll crash sooner than normal before we adjust.”

Irwin just nodded his acknowledgment.

“We find ourselves in a delicate situation. We’ve been employed on Earth by a state not our own to do illegal acts. That leaves us at risk if we return to Earth. We doubt our employer has further need of us to offer us any continued protection. We’d like to sever our relationship with him and stay on Home before we do any prohibited acts here to ruin our status. Home has very favorably impressed us.

“The problem is we have no money of our own to survive here. We can seek employment but only can survive maybe a week. Our benefactor has been funding us through an irrevocable Visa that may or may not be fed in small increments as we need funds. We’d like to pull cash from the account if it is possible and worth doing. Is there any way to determine how much is available? Could you find out for us?”

“First of all, I’m aware you are Vasco Simic and Uldis Ivask and have a rather complete picture of what your activities have been on Earth.”

Uldis sprang out of his chair and Irwin said, “Buda….”

Simic grabbed Uldis’ belt before he was fully standing or could reach for his gun and yanked him back in his seat so hard that he almost went over backward.

“ Please don’t trip whatever the rest of that activates,” Simic asked Irwin. “I’ve got control of him. Nothing stupid is going to happen.”

“What happens if he does?” Uldis asked Simic suspiciously.

“Unless I’m mistaken you die. Probably me too.” He looked to Irwin for confirmation.

“Yes, we’re still on the hair-trigger edge of that if you threaten me.”

“Continue, please. Uldis, don’t even look funny at the man, just listen.”

“Very few people on Home will care about what you did on Earth. However, if you assassinate Nathan DeWalt, I doubt the Assembly would be satisfied with merely expelling you. They would probably be artistic about it, find the worst possible jurisdiction to which they could release you on Earth and alert them to your arrival. My helping you would be conditioned on your assurances you will drop your current contract.

“Now, normally, I wouldn’t help anyone take funds from a state actor. Even hired assassins or mercenaries under duress. It’s too risky for the reward. I’d rather advise them to just walk away and start fresh. However, the Second Martian Republic is such a mess I don’t regard it as a legitimate nation. I agree with friends and business associates who have labeled it a criminal cult. And I think their ability to reach out and harm anyone is coming to an end with you. Even if you aren’t squeaky clean, I’ll favor you over the Martians.

“I was informed by those who should know that DeWalt cleaned the Martians out of their legitimate public funds. One interesting theory is that he was the last valid official of the First Republic so he is fully entitled to the money.

“My personal theory is that the head honcho, Schober, has his own little time-to get-out-of-Dodge fund and that’s what he is using to pay you. All dictators and cult heads have an escape fund if they have any sense. Do you know if it’s that little rat who is paying you?”

“Yeah. He hired me directly to find DeWalt,” Simic admitted. “We have no problem dropping our contract with him. It’s what we came in here to do.”

The expression on Uldis’ face said he hadn’t known about Schober.

Voice cracking a little, Simic inquired, “How many people know who we are and the whole story about us and DeWalt?”

“At a minimum, me, the triad who own the other Home bank, which includes the Queen of the Moon, Jon the head of Home Security, and a bunch of security and spies who work for those main actors. You should know, the triad’s intelligence people had you pegged on Earth before you ever climbed on the shuttle at the Cape.”

“Dear God….”

“Yes, they’re remarkably efficient,” Irwin acknowledged. “They’ve done business with the Martians, know not to trust them, and keep a very close eye on them.

“Now, about getting control of those funds,” Irwin continued as if the aside was unimportant. “Since it is an individual account, we can check the credit rating of the individual. I doubt he has any other significant lines of credit and an irrevocable business Visa will generate usage stats just like a normal credit card. The banks want to know if the business behind the card is headed for failure and that’s a key indicator if they suddenly start bleeding funds. Irrevocable accounts are needed for dealing safely with risky enterprises like foreign firms who may be outside your legal system or state actors who could nationalize you. That means they are inherently risky to the issuing bank. It isn’t like a personal credit or debit card at all. His credit rating will fluctuate slightly each month as the statement date approaches and utilization peaks. It’s stupid but traditional. Some huge companies with significant cash flow structure multiple deposits to this kind of account to avoid normal utilization changing their rating. So, comparing the month-end utilization numbers to the amount he is paying you we should be able to get a decent approximation of his balance. An unusually large deposit or big payments for something else could throw us off but most people creating this sort of an emergency fund have a regular skim payment set up. He probably didn’t plan on using it this way. DeWalt ripping him off didn’t leave him alternative funds. Can you approximate what he has allowed you to spend in recent months?” Irwin pushed a pad and pen across the desk to him.

Simic wrote, pausing a few times to think and pushed it back to Irwin.

“Oh, that’s excellent. It varied quite a bit. That will help us confirm the historic variations match.” Irwin tapped away at the computer humming a little under his breath.

“Herr Schober has squirreled away approximately seventy-three million Australian dollars plus or minus about two million. He undoubtedly sent fresh euromark funds to you to spend rather than pay the fees to convert them to Australian dollars. That only saved him a few thousand in currency conversion fees. He isn’t bright enough to see you still pay them for each card use at a worse rate. His main balance will always be in non-depreciating currencies. He’s a piker. Some of these despots and warlords stash away billions .”

“What part of that is recoverable?” Simic said hopefully.

“You aren’t recovering it to be precise. You are stealing it. But the morality is kind of complicated because he stole it too. I don’t see any way to return it to those originally defrauded so I’m not going to worry about that. In practical terms, you don’t want to try to cash out more than the balance. That would be rejected and probably alert him.

“Now, the speed of light lag to Mars means he wouldn’t know immediately, but he may have alerts set for certain amounts. The bank might also have software set to freeze the account if activity suggests fraud.

“What I would do is try to withdraw seventy million to our bank here That account will close and it will be deposited to an account they have no way to identify. Best to try to get the majority of it away clean. That’s the beautiful thing about an irrevocable card. People have tried to break that contract for years and it is holding solid. Another immediate withdrawal to the same bank might trigger a freeze so we’ll set up another two million withdrawal to a holding account I maintain in a Russian bank to be submitted as soon as I have confirmation on the seventy million. If that clears, I’ll do one million to a New Deli bank and then a half million to a Singapore bank. I’d stop there and he may not even know it’s gone until the end of the month statement. Do you approve of that plan?”

“Yes, please. Could you explain what sort of fees will be attached to this transaction?”

“Since it’s for cash, not goods, it is a six percent Visa fee for my bank. Once I have it all forwarded, I can write you a check. I’d waive the fee on that. Or I can give you a card to access the balance on an account here. A standard taster card tied to your genome is fifty dollars Australian. I could pay you in gold solar coins or bars on ten days’ notice, to have it brought from the Moon. I don’t have access to sufficient currency to literally cash it out.”

“Do it, please. How long will it take and when will we know?” Simic asked.

“Maybe five minutes to key it all in,” Irwin said tapping away. “There’s a five-second speed of light lag each way. Ten seconds is way too much time to let them decide something is hinky to do it step-by-step manually from here. I’ll stack the orders to execute in sequence on a server that is usually used for stock and options trading on Earth exchanges from here. It will update us at each step though.”

Hmmmm, clickity clickety-click, uh hmm… “Ok, ready. Any second thoughts or worries?” Irwin asked with his finger held paused to initiate it.

“No, do it, please.”

Irwin tapped Enter.

Ten seconds later he said, “We got the big one. We got the two. The one million failed. Either the software intervened or the account was less than we thought. And…. We have all seventy-two million forwarded here. For Mr. Schober, the long-standing dark humor about these things is, and it’s gone .”

* * *

Tommy stopped at their house on his way home and dropped off an envelope with a Dallas return address. It said Howard and Viscoe but not what sort of business they ran. Vic had no idea who it was from but expressed no surprise for Tommy. Neither did Tommy seem surprised and Vic thought that should be giving him a clue but couldn’t figure it out. After he was gone Vic opened it up with Eileen and Alice very interested and watching over his shoulder.

It was an offer to buy his property.

“This is the best indication we’ve had that the Texans are here to stay and the area will be returning to normal,” Vic said.

“Junk mail?” Eileen asked him.

“Not just any junk mail but a law firm trying to buy up real estate on the cheap. Somebody thinks it will have value soon. Probably as agents of someone or some company that would rather remain anonymous. If you do want to sell, they might reveal the ultimate buyers but I wouldn’t count on it.”

“How much?” Eileen asked. Trying to read it.

“They’re offering a hundred thousand dollars Texan for a quit claim deed,” Vic said. “This place was valued at seven million plus North American dollars the year before The Day. I have arable land, pasture, mineral rights, and water rights to the stream. They’re looking to buy out squatters and people desperate to leave. They know they’ll have to defend these deeds in court so they have to be bought dirt cheap. If they mailed every address they could verify from before The Day they’re bound to get a few suckers. And some won’t be challenged. Somebody living in a vacation home they broke into to squat with the owners by all appearances dead will jump at it. None of them have been in them long enough to claim them under adverse possession.”

“That’s why Tommy wasn’t surprised or more interested,” Eileen realized. “They got a ton of these all at once. It’s probably a pain in the butt for him to deliver them.”

“Nah. It’s good for him. It’ll motivate them to get those gang mailboxes set up and regular service going before they are returned as undeliverable and these lawyers complain that their mailing was returned.” Vic put the letter with the fire starters.

* * *

“That’s quite a story. How did they split the money?” Heather asked Irwin.

“Simic offered to split it evenly and each go their way. Uldis said he’d like some pocket money but if they kept all the money together it would give them more opportunities. He was willing to be partners but let Simic manage it and he’d support him any way he could. He said that’s pretty much what they had been doing and it was working, so Simic agreed. By all appearances, they intend to leave off their criminal lifestyle.”

“Did they leave their accounts with you?” Heather wondered.

“I don’t feel free to say,” Irwin said but not unkindly. “Do you wish to have the joy of informing DeWalt?”

“No, you go ahead and tell him,” Heather said. “He looks scared of me every time I see him and it kind of creeps me out.”

“OK, I’ll go do that,” Irwin agreed.

Irwin caught Nathan ‘Walters’ before he left for work. He immediately looked alarmed. Irwin could see how Heather felt it was her scaring him but he thought the poor fellow was still traumatized from his ordeal and given to alarm easily.

“Nathan, I’m happy to tell you we have assurances that seem genuine from the fellows hunting you. They are no longer in the Martian’s employ and shouldn’t bother you now.”

“Did you guys do a permanent fix on them?” Nathan inquired.

“If you’re asking if we killed them, no, that wasn’t necessary. We didn’t even threaten them. At least not directly. They were humbled that we knew exactly who they were and their mission. But we came to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“That doesn’t reassure me,” Nathan said. “ How did you deter them?”

“We simply bought them off,” Irwin said.

“How much was my life worth?” Nathan asked.

“Seventy-two million dollars Australian,” Irwin said. “Minus my six percent fee,” he added with a smile.

“My God! Do I have to pay that back to you?”

“Of course not. You don’t think I paid them with my money, do you? I just continued what you started by taking the First Republic’s funds. I was able to access Schober’s private little contingency fund. All the dictators and scam artists keep one in case they have to run for their life. He better not need to run for a while.”

Concern slowly changed to a growing smile on Nathan’s face.

“Thank you. That was an absolutely artistic way to fix it.”

Irwin gave him a wicked wink.

“We pride ourselves on being a full-service bank.”

* * *

“Do you intend to stop the North Americans and inspect their armaments if they ask for L1 clearance?” April asked Heather.

“I’ve given that a lot of thought. If Jeff sees the same odd radiation signature as before it would indicate they have a dual kernel weapon. The only reason for that is to make a prohibited beam weapon. I feel we’d have to nip that in the bud. Anything else I think it’s to our advantage to let slide this time. But I don’t expect them to try to sneak anything past us the first time. It wouldn’t surprise me if they are hoping we stop them and are prepared to allow us to inspect them for the propaganda value.

“Even though they got caught lying about it before they know people will forget that. They would use an unwarranted boarding to paint themselves as victims. It’s their sort of thinking to imagine it would keep us from accusing them later if they want to cheat.

“We know it’s a perverted rationalization, but I’m loath to give them any tool to make us look bad to their citizens. I’ve even considered arranging a tragic loss of their vessel far off from any witnesses if they try to cheat. They couldn’t prove anything but I bet they’d know it was a message.

“What I expect, is that they will ask for clearance as meekly as can be and bide their time waiting to deal with us later. They still want us all dead, leaving them free to do as they wish in the Solar System and the heavens at large.”

“We’re just buying time again,” Jeff said.

“But have we bought enough time?” April worried.

Jeff looked serious and stared down through the console like it wasn’t there. April hadn’t expected a detailed answer but he tried to provide one.

“I can’t see them developing significant improvements to their drives for another ten years. It’s going to be slow incremental work. But then, when they have performance that will allow practical explorers, and they know what infrastructure is needed, there will be an explosion of the number of Earth vessels made. The advances in fast fabrication, manufacturing, and materials science over a decade will make current shipbuilding seem plodding.

“What happens past that is harder to predict. Will there be extrasolar planets so easy to develop they have their own shipyards early on? They seem to be planning sensibly to deter piracy and criminal claim jumping. But will there be conflict over planets and system assets between state actors? War is even a possibility. Will they explore evenly in all directions or tend to expand along lines where previous discoveries were made? What if we meet people who have staked out areas and expect us to honor their boundaries? There are so many questions. And new technologies could undo all our planning.”

“If you could be the one to develop disruptive tech that would sure help,” April said.

“It’s a hard thing to predict but I’m always thinking and trying,” Jeff told her.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 28

“Mr. Woodleigh claims to have no burning desire to attend the spring fair. He says little Tommy is old enough he can watch him and that it would be good for the kid to learn for his momma to be away without causing a fuss,” Eileen reported.

Vic made a snort of amusement.

“He may figure it’s time for Pearl to learn she can be away from little Tommy without causing a fuss. But I doubted he’d ever say that.”

“Tommy wondered if he could tow us with the postal bike. Do you think that would work?” Eileen asked.

“I’d bet his bosses wouldn’t approve. If we had an accident and damaged their bike it would be awfully hard to explain. I won’t use a line that can get wrapped around the wheels if you allow any slack. That’s too long a ride to grip a rope or tow bar and just impossible for three riders. We aren’t all that much slower than him pedaling. The roads aren’t clear enough for him to open it up and go fast.”

Vic stopped, held a hand up for silence, and turned his head this way and that with his mouth open.

There was a faint deep sound. Eileen smiled. “I hear it too,” she said.

“First junk mail now traffic noise,” Vic said. “We’re creeping back to civilization.

“What do you think that is?” Eileen asked.

“Almost certainly the patrol they promised to open all the county roads.” He frowned deeply.

“What? You see another problem?” Eileen asked.

“Not exactly. It just occurred to me that with the roads being cleared, if I get that power station and another big pair of solar panels, we could get electric drives for the bikes. They have bolt-on kits. I think it’s pretty certain now that we’ll have the roads cleared and gas for sale but it may be two or three years. That would make things a lot easier until then.

“You could buy them through the post office now instead of having them flown in,” Eileen said. “That has to be a lot cheaper.”

“Yeah, Cal is going to lose a lot of business now. I hadn’t thought about it but he may stop making these supply flights. If Texas brings in all the other rules and regulations, I can’t imagine they’ll fail to regulate civil aviation. God only knows how many hours past a mandated rebuild his engine or airframe is right now. At best, it may be a hobby for him again if he can afford to come into compliance.”

I never thought I’d say this but I’d miss seeing him,” Eileen said. “He’s a character.”

* * *

“Heads up kiddies. Here it comes,” Heather said reading the news feed. “France and the United States of North America announced a merger of organizations to promote extrasolar security. The wording is them and their partners .”

“Oh? They must have picked up those partners quietly on the side,” April said. “With no big movement of negotiators like they did in the Canaries.”

“Not nearly as much to negotiate,” Jeff suggested. “We’re not talking peer nations”

“Yes, Chen promises an analysis within a day, but these are the second-tier partners who don’t have the tech to build a starship. They may be closer to being customers than honest partners,” Heather said. “I think we’ll see them shake out by long-standing political interests.”

“We could have our own registry and protection racket just to irritate North America,” Jeff suggested. He’d have provoked a stronger response from his ladies if he hadn’t been displaying a devilish smile.

“This is the first thing they’ve done in ages that makes any sense and you want to risk derailing it?” April asked. “It would serve you right to be put in charge of it. It will be like herding cats and they would reject it just because it was from us.”

“Just kidding. It is going to be chaos with every little country demanding they be a little more equal than the others. You watch though. They are going to pile on the fees. I’d be happy with maybe ten or fifteen percent. I bet they take twice that.”

“Probably,” April agreed. “Anything less than that they’d feel they were giving it away.”

“That’s because they feel they own everything,” Jeff said. “They only allow their people to keep any of what they made or found from benevolence.”

“We’re only giving our crew a percent of a new planet,” Heather reminded them.

“It’s our ship,” April protested. “And we’re supplying a ship much more capable of finding significant discoveries than any Earth ship. If they were owners, it would be different.”

“They’ll be owners soon enough,” Jeff predicted. “The big question we’ll have to face is this. When they have the wealth accumulated to buy their own ship, do we offer them our superior tech? Otherwise, they may go with Earth-built ships and perforce join the Earthie scheme to protect their discoveries since it will be the only game in town.”

Heather held up a forestalling finger to speak.

“This is not a ruling, certainly not a hard and final decree but I can’t see handing over ownership of one of our starships to someone not sworn to me. Maybe that sounds like I consider my share of our partnership superior to yours. I could see how you might feel that way. But I can’t see just a business relationship with others giving us sufficient control over tech necessary to our survival.”

“No, no,” Jeff said shaking his head. “I’m glad we have you as a filter. If we didn’t, I don’t think we could even trust a hired crew to take one of our vessels out without one of us along in firm control.”

“I agree,” April said. “I don’t intend to lose control of our superior ships even to other Homies. All we need is to trust one misjudged person to give the whole game away to the Earthies. Maybe we should insist on sworn crew and peerage for actual ownership. If the Earthies get hold of a drive to reverse engineer, they can put so many people working on it they could break the monopoly Jeff’s mom has on the quantum fluid.”

“Perhaps if she didn’t have a monopoly, she’d let us know the process so we could make it in volume too,” Jeff speculated. “It still wouldn’t be enough. We could never build as many ships or train enough crew to fly them as the Earthies can. They’d flood the heavens ahead of us and we’d be lost.”

“Thank you again for your trust,” Heather said. “If we’re going to use fealty to me as a filter you should both have input on who may be sworn. I couldn’t do that at first when it was an emergency and people were asking to swear to me but there’s no reason for us not to discuss candidates now. If either of you has misgivings about someone, I’d want to know it. Maybe I should designate both of you as a special class of peers.”

“I figure everybody already knows a family relationship on top of peerage means you’ll give us an ear before others,” April said. “I don’t need another title. It might incite jealousy in some idiot who can’t stand somebody else having something they can’t.”

“I’d hope nobody I’d declare a peer would be so shallow,” Heather said.

“You never know what people are really thinking,” April said. “Leave things as they are and we three will just privately know we’re helping you vet people to be sworn.”

“Indeed, most probably know and expect that we’ll advise you,” Jeff said. “No need to make it explicit so they hide any disqualifying traits they might otherwise reveal to us.”

Heather nodded. “OK, that works for me.”

* * *

“I guess it shouldn’t surprise me,” Chen said, “but this document runs over six hundred pages. It seems to be only superficially about agreeing to protect the claimant’s finds and more about how to divvy up the spoils after they do find something. Even at that, it just says that they agree to create another document with a more detailed set of regulations about what may be claimed. Also, to publish who is qualified to bid on developing these discoveries. Silly me, I thought the discoverers would have a say in that. It sounds like to get your discovery protected you pretty much have to turn it over to them to parcel it out.”

“Maybe they used the Mafia definition of protection,” April guessed.

“For sure, I expect that their final standards will resemble their laws and run to thousands of pages,” Chen predicted. “After all, it’s politicians creating this.”

“That isn’t at all what I envisioned when I talked about this with Love,” Jeff said.

“I’m sure it isn’t,” Heather said. “Don’t feel too badly about it. They’ll make it so complicated it will help slow them down. That’s a benefit for us if there’s a big process for every explorer that comes back with a find. I predict entire legal firms will be created to navigate the complexities of making your claim. Kind of like patent attorneys. Meanwhile, we’ll be out there looking further away than them and securing what we find without all this bureaucratic fuss.”

“They may not be forced to finalize it until the first ships come back demanding to file claims,” April predicted. “There will still be a few like Japan who will give us some competition. I don’t think for a minute they will subject themselves to this. They would see it as a loss of sovereignty.”

“As would I,” Heather agreed. “But nothing about the L1 doctrine touches on economics or fairness towards any future explorers. I don’t see us owing anyone to get involved between Earth factions. Nobody is making them use this organization to send out explorers. Just to limit them sending armed ships.”

“In theory, it’s worth a good chunk of your discovery not to have to invest in the military equipment and personnel to guard your find,” Chen said. “It will be interesting to see how big a discovery has to be to make it worth paying their protection money.”

“If it’s just a rich asteroid or a single ore body on an otherwise unremarkable planet you could just snatch all of it you can and never report it,” April speculated.

“If you had a huge freighter to transport it that would be handy to avoid conflict with the Earth powers,” Chen said and made a face at her.

“That wasn’t exactly what we had in mind with this new ship, honest. But it does seem like it would be perfect for snatching a load of high-grade ore rather than setting up a long-term mine and protecting it. The sky is wide. Chances are nobody will find it if you aren’t coming and going to it regularly to lead them there. It’s unplanned serendipity that we might use it that way.”

Chen smiled and nodded and didn’t believe a word of it. Serendipity seemed to hang around waiting to see if April needed anything.

“The next will be bigger,” Jeff promised. “I have some ideas.”

“I’m going to make a prediction,” Chen said. “This will work for a decade or two, but once there are a couple of players like Japan that have a habitable planet or even a metal-rich system settled, they will start building ships there and arming them as they please.”

“Or refitting explorers outside the Solar System,” Jeff agreed. “I doubt we can enforce a ban on armed ships coming in from outside the Solar System when it gets to that point. No matter. Everything we’re doing is just a delaying action. Eventually, we’ll have to flee Earth or depopulate it. I’m a monster but I don’t want to do that.”

“I’m not sure it’s possible,” Chen said.

“Not entirely but the survivors wouldn’t be building spaceships or nuclear weapons. The problem is that we’d have to damage the planet itself to do that. It’s a treasure. They still regularly discover new plants and animals. Even new bacteria are worth knowing and saving. We’ll take what we can with us but I’m loath to damage the source.”

“Do you feel the same?” Chen asked Heather. “Are you prepared to abandon your kingdom and flee if it comes to fighting it to a decisive conclusion with Earth?”

“The Moon is just where we live,” Heather told him. “My kingdom is my peers and sworn people. We can live elsewhere or even without owning sovereign territory. There will be countless bodies to choose from if we want to move. The only reason to be here is Earth. Both for the things they still supply and to control them from getting out of hand. If we have to live as a fortress under siege, it would be better to pack up and go. But if we fought and won a victory on the scale we are discussing there’d be no further reason to be here, would there?”

Chen looked dismayed. Worse, it wasn’t a rhetorical question. Heather was waiting for an answer.

“Earth has nothing for me now. I assume if the Moon is abandoned the habs will be gone?”

“Long before,” Jeff assured him. “With growing traffic in and out of the Solar System, they will be increasingly difficult to defend. I’d stop investing in them if it wasn’t for the fact that they are semi-portable. We demonstrated that bringing Home from LEO. I’m considering the problem of doing it better next time.”

“Then I have to plan long term to accompany you,” Chen decided. “Since my expertise is all Earth-based, I’m not sure what I’ll do.”

“Your Earth connections and knowledge were always going to degrade after you left,” Heather told him. “You still understand people and the intelligence games they play. Those things haven’t changed since the Babylonians.

“I’m glad you are so confident in me.”

“You can always start a spy school,” April suggested.

That finally made him smile.

* * *

“I’m excited we found the source of the gold in our stream,” Eileen said. “I think we’ll have a really good season now. With the roads open back up and things returning closer to normal maybe we can find an actual vein of gold in that cliff face and work it.”

“I’ve been thinking on that,” Vic said. “I want to try digging right along the base of the cliff from the stream uphill. If the gold is weathering out there, we should find a long line of good paydirt between the stream and the source. That’ll keep us busy until we can consider mining the source. If we ever do find it.

“I’m not opposed to hard rock mining eventually if we’re careful not to call attention to ourselves ordering the equipment. I’m sure we can work a deal with O’Neil or Mast to discreetly handle it for us. But if we don’t find a motherlode, I think we should discuss how long it’s going to take us just working the alluvial deposits to save the funds for shuttle tickets and money to get us started on Home”

“Why, do we have some kind of a deadline?” Eileen asked him.

“You might not but I do. How old can I be and this life extension therapy is still worth having done?

“I’m really not sure. There’s so much misinformation online. But you could ask people who actually buy and sell the treatments now that we have a satellite phone.”

“That’s an idea. They must have some kind of business directory,” Vic said. “I can look into it a little now and more when the Texans get a drone orbiting for cheap internet.”

“You don’t care if somebody might be aware of our interest?” Eileen wondered.

“I would have with North America. I guess that right there says we ended up on the good side of the border. But I wanted to say this while Alice is out working in the barn. If we can’t raise the money in a reasonable time, I’d consider selling the house to put us over the edge. Not a crazy low-ball offer like we got but there should be a normal real estate market and a new Texan registry of deeds pretty soon.”

“Oh, you don’t want to upset Alice’s dream of buying the place.”

“No, but realistically, where is she going to get that kind of money?” Vic asked. “We’ve given her a home when she needed it. We never spoke of adopting her. She made it clear she wanted to be able to walk anytime it pleased her to leave. I view her as emancipated even if that hasn’t been established legally. If the Texans bring in law and make courts available to us, I’d accept her petition to make it official with no argument. I don’t see where we owe her abandoning our goals to serve hers.”

“No, if you put it that way, I don’t want to do that either,” Eileen agreed.

“I don’t see any need to tell her all that. Other events may make it impossible for her to get the ranch from us so that we don’t have to be the bad guys in her eyes. At her age, she may even decide that isn’t what she wants to do. If she finally does end up with Titus, he may want no part of living here when he’s chasing a job in the next county.”

“OK, I see why you wanted to say this in private,” Eileen said. “I’m agreeable to waiting and seeing how all these things work out rather than upsetting her needlessly.”

* * *

“This is interesting,” April called out to Jeff. “The USNA and France announce that in a spirit of cooperation, the coming North American interstellar flight will carry a French co-pilot. The next French flight will then carry a North American pilot. You notice we didn’t get an immediate feed from Chen about this?”

“Why would we?” Jeff asked. “It’s a public relations gesture that doesn’t mean anything and doesn’t change anything. Except for the poor guys who got bumped off as copilots. Although, maybe they just transposed the same people. That would be fair,” Jeff decided.

“Do you think they may feel we favor the French and won’t stop the ship again if it has a French copilot? If so, they don’t know you at all, do they?” April speculated.

“They’ve never known what makes me tick,” Jeff declared. “If they meet any space aliens, they’re likely to make as much sense  to me as them.”

“Ewww… I hope not. That might mean we have to deal with space aliens who think like Earth politicians. I’m still going to hope we find some sane ones.”

* * *

The engine sound was deeper than the bikes or off-road vehicles of the Texans. It wasn’t passing by, it was approaching the house. Sunday dinner was done, the table cleared, and they were enjoying some conversation. Everyone stopped talking and looked at Vic.

“Eileen, answer the door but no gun, and don’t step out. I’ll cover from deep in the room. If anything goes bad drop and roll away from the door. Pearl and Alice, cover the rear. Tommy, make little Tommy sit behind the stove, and be ready to move either way in support.”

Pearl had their shotgun and Alice her .22. Tommy’s .22 wouldn’t add much to them. Eileen laid her rifle on the floor to the side before opening the door. Vic was on his knees behind a recliner using it as a steady rest for his .308. He’d be invisible in the dark room from the bright outside.

“It’s a regular blue two-door pickup truck,” Eileen said. “There’s no agency markings or company name. No radio antenna either. He’s stopping broadside to the front door about a hundred meters away. The windows are tinted so I just see a silhouette of the driver. They have two guys in rear-facing seats in the back. I can see they’re wearing some kind of bulky vest. They’re probably armored up. Make that closer to ninety meters.”

Estimating distance was something they’d been working on.

“I can see from the front wheel back without moving,” Vic said. “Oh, crap.”

The two in the rear got out with rifles slung on a front harness. They had on gray clothing but it wasn’t any sort of uniform. They stayed on the house side of the truck rather than shelter behind it. That was either bold or stupid.

The driver wore an armored vest but just a pistol and oddly had a clipboard. He came around the front of the truck and approached the house at a normal walk. Eileen reported that since it was out of Vic’s field of view. When he was about halfway to the house Eileen called out to him: “That’s close enough or I’m closing the door and locking it.”

That man smiled. It was a smile of amusement.

“Not a problem. Is your mom or dad home to talk to?” the fellow asked.

“I’m the lady of the house,” Eileen informed him. “What is your business and who do you represent?”

“We’re doing a survey for the Wells Fargo bank to determine which of their properties are occupied by mortgage holders in arrears and which are occupied by squatters who we’ll be serving notice to move on. There are incentives to doing that. We’d much rather do this the easy way than the hard way,” he offered but it was a veiled threat.

“I am covering the man at the rear,” Vic said softly. “I’ll have to move to see the one who walked towards the front of the truck. Don’t reply. He’ll know somebody else is home.”

“We own clear and free and we deal with Chase, not Wells Fargo,” Eileen told him.

“I’m sorry, that’s not what my papers show,” the man said.

“What exactly are you asking me to do?” Eileen demanded.

“Well, if your husband isn’t home, I’d be satisfied with a quit claim from you. I can cut you a check right here today and we’ll be back at the end of the month to confirm the property doesn’t have squatters. Otherwise, we’ll ask you to vacate today and enforce it.”

“Do the Texan authorities know you are doing this in their jurisdiction?” Eileen asked.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern,” the fellow said.

The man looked surprised when Alice appeared from around the corner of the house carrying a red and white insulated water jug. She’d left her rifle behind.

“Alice, don’t bother those men,” Eileen called.

“Just some spring water for them,” Alice called. “No trouble at all.”

The man turned his attention away from Alice. In his scope Vic saw the man by the rear of the truck tense, then his eyes shifted back to his boss and Eileen.

Alice cut across behind the spokesman toward the truck. When she was past where she’d be in his peripheral vision, she increased the angle to get behind him for a few steps and set the jug down. When she straightened up, she raised her little pistol in no particular hurry and shot the man behind his ear. He pitched forward and sprawled limply without a twitch.

The man in Vic’s scope jerked in surprise at the mild report of the pistol. He’d just shifted his grip and started to raise his rifle when Vic squeezed off a shot. He was holding aim on the man’s nose and had the sort of a clean trigger break that told him the round was in the x ring. He didn’t even try to recover from recoil to confirm his shot. Vic jumped up and ran for the door to bring the other shooter into view.

Eileen had thrown herself to the side at the sound of Alice’s pistol and was recovering her rifle. Outside Vic heard the pop-pop-pop of Alice’s pistol before he could see her. That was interrupted by the bark of a bigger gun on full auto. When he reached the door, she was standing back to him and there was another pop…pop…pop, at a much slower cadence.

The other shooter was slumped against the truck, his rifle across his legs with his right hand still on the grips. When Vic acquired him in the scope, he had two holes on his forehead and one through his cheek. Vic shifted back to service his original target. He didn’t require any more attention in a big way. He went back to Alice’s target. Scanning down across the man he saw blood oozing beneath his left hand where it clutched his thigh. He’d never talked to Alice about dealing with body armor but she figured it out on her own.

“Are we clear ?” Tommy called from the kitchen door once the shooting stopped.

“We’re clear,” Vic confirmed. “You can call Pearl in from the back.”

Alice was stripping the man against the truck of arms and ammo before Vic reached them. Vic was chilled by her indifference to shooting a man. He was starting to wonder if Alice was right in the head.

“Take a leg and help me drag this guy out flat so I can get this stuff off him,” Alice said.

Vic grabbed a boot and helped hoping it would make her listen to him better.

“Alice, I was still hoping to talk them down without getting in a fight.”

She looked at him astonished. “You heard them. They intended to steal your place. Well, yours, and I’m sure he has a whole list. If you confronted them and they backed down, you’d never be safe. One of these thugs could sit in the tree line and pick you off when you went out to do chores, or they’d burn us out in the middle of the night and kill all of us.”

“She’s right,” Tommy said behind him. “I’m sorry, but you’re crazy if you thought you could talk your way out of this.”

“What the hell are we going to do now?” Vic asked. “We shot three people dead and have a pickup truck to explain. What if they are known to the local Texans?”

“Check out the truck,” Tommy said. “I’ll bet my next month’s wages they have the GPS ripped out of the truck and not one of them has a cell phone. They aren’t going to want anybody tracking them to reconstruct their crimes. They’re rogues and crooks. Nobody can legally do an immediate eviction like they threatened.”

Vic frowned and wanted to argue but examined the truck. The headliner was ripped out and the antenna and line to it were gone. There was a piece of duct tape covering the hole in the roof. There was a free-standing GPS on the dash and in the glove compartment, he found three cell phone-sized shapes well wrapped in aluminum foil. The bed held some basic camping equipment and three ninety-five-liter drums of diesel. Perhaps the most damning of all was that the truck had no license plate. He returned to Tommy and Alice, told them what he found, and apologized.

“That still doesn’t answer what we’re going to do,” Vic told them.

“I know for a fact the Texans are patrolling off to the east,” Tommy said. “We’re clear to drive this truck without running into them. We’ll load your bikes, and go down to the next crossroad. To the north is an abandoned house that has been stripped. We’ll park the truck in front and shoot it up with one of their rifles and torch it. The bodies we’ll drag in the house, pile a bunch of dead-fall on top of them, soak everything in diesel, and torch it. By the time anybody could see the smoke and investigate, we’ll be back here.

“Why all the extra wood and diesel?” Alice asked. “Why not dump them in the woods?”

“Just the buzzards circling would make that obvious,” Tommy said. “I want them cremated so thoroughly that your lead bullets are melted beyond tracing for sure.”

“Oh…” Alices was horrified at what she hadn’t considered.

By this time Eileen was there with Pearl listening.

“I can tell from your face you want to be all honorable and above-board,” she told Vic. “Now is not the time for that. These are criminals and scum but we don’t know how they are connected or who may be livid that we thwarted their scam. Do as Tommy says.”

“Hiding it is a sign of guilt,” Vic insisted.

“Do you feel you committed a crime?” Eileen asked him.

“No, that’s the point. They were threatening imminent force.”

“Are you sure the Texans will agree with that?” Eileen asked. “They haven’t been living with raiders and no law enforcement to call. We did shoot first. Unless you want to hang the whole thing on Alice?”

“No. I just wish she’d held off a bit and let us lead.”

“If I’d waited to move on them until he and Eileen were arguing and angry, they’d have never let me get past him. That’s the way things were headed,” Alice insisted.

Vic looked distressed but couldn’t refute her analysis. He looked around at them and every one of them silently shook their heads no.

“OK. It feels wrong to me but I can see the point everybody is making. If we’d waited until things got hot, they were more likely to shoot and we might have lost somebody. I’d have felt better if they had fired first but that would have been stupid. The Texans may be locked in the idea you don’t just handle things yourselves. We’ll do it Tommy’s way.”

“What about their guns and stuff?” Alice insisted. “This is a fortune to throw away.”

“Bury them off my property and don’t go anywhere near them for a year or two until we know nobody is coming looking for them,” Vic insisted. “You don’t need them and if you dispose of them later you better make sure they won’t be traced back to you ten or twenty years from now. You can have the stuff off the guy I shot too. I don’t want the risk.”

“OK, I’ll do that while you guys are off dumping the truck and the… trash.”

“This is interesting,” Pearl said. She was going through the stack of papers on the clipboard. “I don’t see anything here about Wells Fargo, nor do I see anything naming the lawyers who sent Vic a buyout offer. The checks say Wells Fargo but with no logo and are marked as belonging to a Property Acquisition Department that has a Pasadena address. I can’t believe anything is operating in Pasadena yet. The whole thing stinks and he does have two quit claim deeds filled in on this boilerplate form. I think they’re independent scam artists running a bluff. It’s just more direct and heavier-handed than the mailing. I wonder how much more of this kind of thing we’ll see as it gets easier to come here from the outside world?”

“Good question. It’s a lot riskier than doing it by mail,” Tommy pointed out.

“There’s no safe way to tell the people who fell for it that they’re off the hook,” Eileen said. “That’s too bad. We can’t admit we ever spoke to them.”

Vic barked a sudden harsh laugh. “Maybe they’ll figure it out when the check bounces.”

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 29

“What have you got for me, Mike?”

Jerry had a great side thing repairing and refurbishing old computers. Mike Morse had saved his bacon a few times sourcing parts and supplies Jerry couldn’t find himself.

“I haven’t scored any computer stuff lately, but I’m interested in looking at some space stuff. There may be some money there for me but I’m not skilled enough to get around the official barriers and look at what they say themselves. Hell, I can barely check my email without screwing something up. Somebody suggested I find a fourteen-year-old to show me how. I’m not dead sure if they were serious or making fun of me.”

“Mike, I’ve known some eight-year-olds who can do that stuff. I could do it when I was twelve. I’ll show you how because I know you. You aren’t any flavor of cop. You’re too clean to be a cop and you wouldn’t have time .”

“It’s not too complicated for me?” Mike worried.

“Nah. You’re not stupid. But the first thing you do is bring your computer in to me, or buy a dedicated one, and we’ll make very sure nobody is already monitoring it. Then we’ll create an identity for you and see about showing you how to navigate the net.”

“How can I pay you? Horse-trade?” Mike asked.

“What have you got lately? Anything interesting?”

“How about gold jewelry?” Mike offered.

“Hot damn! That’ll do just fine .”

* * *

“There are interior details unfinished but all the flight systems are done on the Prospector ,” Jeff told his ladies. “Johnson is going to do the test flight tomorrow.”

“Will they be disassembling the covering dome?” April asked him.

“It’s just an optical and infrared cover. It’s so light they’ll lift it and move it to the side. Mo decided he wants to keep digging and create a large elevator shaft to access an underground hangar. They’ll move the cover back in place. It’s off the edge of our development still so Heather will declare it sovereign territory. That’s a long-term project to take it to depth and excavate a cavern but it makes sense not to have our ships exposed to attack.

“I wonder if we’ll be here long enough to finish it?” April said.

“Once we have it automated, the bots will keep digging without wasting much time from humans to keep it going,” Jeff said. “You can’t stop building things for the future with no hard end date.”

“How deep will it go?” April asked.

“That depends on what kind of rock they find as they dig and how deep we dig our work and residential tunnels. It will be years before it catches up to the depth we are now.”

“Just make sure it’s big enough for the ships you plan to build,” Heather said.

“Yeah, Mo compared it to building canals on Earth. It seemed no matter how wide they made them, ships always got bigger than they planned.”

* * *

Near Armstrong, a camera on an incredibly thin tall pole sensed motion at the dome the Centralists built on the near side of their territory. The automated alert had human eyes on the movement before the three rovers finished moving the dome to one side of the hole underneath. The rovers each had a crane extension to lift the dome a meter on a cable. They proceeded at a slow walking pace maintaining an exact distance from each to avoid putting stress on the delicate structure of the dome or inducing a swinging motion.

“What do you think the point of this dome is and why are they moving it now?” the communications tech asked the head of Armstrong Security.

The camera feed saved him from making a silly speculation he’d regret later. A huge ship rose from the hole at a very lazy acceleration. When it reached about two hundred meters altitude, they saw why it was in no hurry. It vanished with a small flash of light they might have missed if they hadn’t been focused on the ship.

“You just saw a starship make a transition,” the head of Security said in awe.

“That big? Did you see the size of that thing? The techie objected. “Besides, I thought starships had to be aimed where they are going at some God-awful velocity.”

“The starships everybody else makes have to do that,” he acknowledged. “This is going to upset a lot of people. Damn, but what I wouldn’t give for a ride on that thing.”

“That video should be worth a lot to the right news agency,” the techie suggested.

“It certainly would be, but if you release a copy you’ll find out if you can hitchhike to Central with no p-suit. Our political masters will decide how to release it or whether they want to at all. Understand?”

“Got it, Chief, loud and clear,” he agreed.

* * *

The head of USNA Space Forces, Dawson, got an alert. Very little happened that couldn’t wait for his daily summary. He tapped the screen with genuine interest.

“Continuous radar surveillance of the lunar surface detected by an algorithm, rovers whose movements didn’t fit recent patterns. Focusing attention on the site, the rovers performed a coordinated move at an unusually slow speed. Optical assets were engaged on an emergency basis and observed a low arch dome shielding a site being moved.

When this structure had been removed from its original position about its own diameter, an extremely large spaceship lifted from the exposed depression. It was of a teardrop form approximately a hundred and fifteen meters in length and half of that in diameter at the widest point. Optical images failed to resolve it in great detail but there were protrusions at the base that might be landing jacks.

The ship vanished when it had cleared the lunar surface by approximately twice its length. A small pulse of broad-spectrum light was visible at the instant it disappeared. No corresponding radio traffic was noted. The flare was not of a magnitude to suggest catastrophic destruction of the ship. It is the opinion of four out of seven analysts given access to the attached video that we observed a superluminal transition. This conflicts with all accepted theories about the quantum transition of macroscopic objects. That is supposed to require a high velocity on a vector towards a significant mass to attain a high probability of a successful transition.”

Dawson was gratified that a slim majority of their analysts weren’t fools. That was the only positive aspect of the report he could find. The rest would back whatever their experts assured them was reality against all reports or even the evidence of their own eyes. Nobody seemed interested in asking what the Spacers intended to do with such a huge ship.

* * *

Johnson didn’t jump to another star system. Not on his first flight with many of the environmental systems short-charged. That would limit their staying ability if there was a problem. Not with Laja as his second who was very much a by-the-book new pilot, and not being aware that the new ship was equipped with a very detailed flight recorder.

Johnson allowed Laja to set up and do an in-system jump, which she was thrilled to do with the new ship, then he brought them home. Nobody told him to be stealthy so he jumped a bit short and cut across inside the geostationary level passing the Earth. That gave several Earth nations capable of tracking a stray bolt in orbit, an eyeful. There were bigger structures in orbit but no ships of their volume. The Sandman , purpose-built for sustaining the Mars outpost, came closest, but its design was dated and closer to being a very maneuverable habitat than an actual ship.

The Prospector set down on autopilot perfectly. There was just the slightest rebound on the landing jacks. Johnson removed his hands from the controls where he was ready to take over manually if anything went wrong and smiled at Laja. “Sweet ship. I hope I get a chance to take her much further away. Thank you for sitting second.”

“My pleasure. It’s nice to be in the original log entry,” Laja said. “I’ll be honest. I have no idea why people are scared of you. You have a light steady hand on manual.”

“Laja, some folks get scared when you exceed their capabilities,” Johnson said.

* * *

Just because they didn’t have a formal Space Force didn’t mean Texas didn’t keep a close watch on the heavens. Too many orbital assets could do Earth bombardment and commerce was dependent on satellite communications. They were starting to do commercial launches and in time would have to protect their own.

They had secret agreements with two other nations to share data so they had fair warning of threats coming from east or west. Their radar coverage extended north almost to the old Canadian border and south over most of Mexico. They shared that and everyone was happy with the three-way trade.

Two of their Air Force officers sat in a room with suppressed lighting and monitored screens displaying real-time surveillance from all three systems.

“Big sucker, isn’t it?” the senior commented amused.

He didn’t have to say which object. The feed from India was obvious.

“I suspect he could have approached the Moon to orbit and land as easily from the far side and not made a spectacle of passing so close to Earth,” the junior officer said.

“They just served notice on everyone that they are well past the experimental stage and building ships to haul stuff. They’re tapping the wealth of the stars while all the Earth nations are still talking about it. It’s like we are still struggling with Wright Flyers and they are building DC-3s.”

“What do you think they’ll haul in that, sir?”

“My guess is we’re looking at the first serious explorer. It may be able to haul very high-value cargo back but it will mainly carry the sort of team that will evaluate a star system or world. I’d send geologists, life sciences people, I think a meteorologist would be worth a seat to have along. Just in case, they should have a couple of shooters.”

“They passed in range of several anti-sat systems,” the junior noted.

“You can bet they won’t limit themselves to the same weapons they imposed on others. It would be incredibly stupid to fire on that ship. Your class saw the training video about North America shooting at a Spacer shuttle from Vandenberg, didn’t they?”

“With the young girl? Yes, I think that will be relevant for a long time. They may be rubbing our noses in it but I can take the lesson we should mind our manners with them if they can build a ship like that.”

“It isn’t widely known,” his senior said, “but the lesson may not be aimed at us as much as others. We did the young girl in that video a favor. She may cut us a little more slack than some of the other Earthies, as they call us.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, and that’s all I’m going to say about it.”

* * *

Mike Morse was amazed exploring Home.com when he found the local news and gossip site What’s Happening . It was their closest site to a real newspaper and not a personal blog. The classified ads were like looking at neighborhood buy/sell/free sites on Earth. It made him realize Home was a very small community. He had a lot more people available with whom he could do business in just his county.

The prices on things were amazing. Anything lifted off Earth had value. One didn’t just throw something away casually. A simple little lamp or a set of salt and pepper shakers were worth taking the time to sell used and would bring several times their new cost on Earth.

He ran a search for name prevalence and then a survey of names associated with words of high emotional impact. He was looking for subtle propaganda or public relations shilling. Instead, he found that the people who were linked to significant businesses seemed to avoid trumpeting their activity or charities.

When he examined public solicitations for contracts and names associated with business sites Jeff Singh kept coming up. But on What’s Happening or a couple of the tackier gossip sites he was treated as an accessory to the young woman who seemed to be people’s primary interest. If he was any judge of fashion and if her jewelry was real, she had to be wealthy. It didn’t surprise him then to find her named as a partner of one of the two Home banks. And there was Singh as a partner again, but a business partner at the bank.

When he looked for these two on private Earth sites of space nuts, he got entirely different images. Instead of a designer gown and jewels. The first image he found was of April visibly younger, dressed in a beaded high-collared jacket. She was festooned with weapons or at least reproductions. Why would classic Japanese swords ever be taken to a space station? Then he saw that the photo was associated with a famous Japanese journalist. The timing made no sense as she didn’t look that much older but the journalist was long retired. Did Spacers start LET that young?

The next image showed her sheltering a wounded comrade and firing a beam weapon. It had to be CGI because that sort of power in a hand weapon was impossible. Maybe making action videos was a hobby. But it was also associated with a supposed real news site.

The tone of the comments was telling. They were posted by almost exclusively males who all seemed to be rabid fanboys. The sort of attention on Earth would lead to stalking incidents and require celebrities to maintain expensive security.

Singh on the other hand . . . Was described in the foreign press as a monster. He was associated with two devastating bombardments of China. Then Mike was shocked to see Singh signing a treaty in Hawaii with North America just months ago. How could that have happened and he’d never seen it in the news? He found stories about it in North American news once he knew to search for it, but it was never a lead story that he could remember.

The name Heather Anderson was on the bank site as a partner and came up a couple of times but when he searched Anderson on Home.com, he kept getting stories about an older woman who was a prominent sculptor. Then he saw a line about Heather Anderson under Lunar real estate. When he ran Heather Anderson/ Moon, he got Queen of the Moon as the first return and Sovereign of Central as the third. The face matched or he wouldn’t have believed it.

Mike was dismayed because he liked to feel he kept abreast of what was happening. When he made the effort to access all this Spacer material, he didn’t expect it to change his entire worldview or be so confusing. He was angry to think how much was being hidden from him. He’d use it for his original purpose of knowing what space related intelligence would be valuable to pass on and be rewarded. But it was now much more than that. He was sure he’d just scratched the surface of the complexity involved. Given how quickly Mike saw their prominence not just as individuals but as a group, he had to wonder if any of these three were his hidden benefactor behind Pete.

* * *

“The North Americans appear very close to launching the Constitution again,” Chen reported. “I wasn’t sure if the rebuild was so different they’d feel they should rename it but they’ve used the name in several news releases this week.”

“I think that would be admitting it was destroyed,” April said. “This way they can say it was just damaged and it looks better. Appearances are everything to them.”

“They’ve sent one shuttle load of technicians back to Earth,” Chen said. “That would seem to indicate they completed specialized tasks. I’d like to request we have Walter do a sensor flyby with his device again and see if it shows a binary nuclear kernel.”

Jeff and Heather looked at each other via screen just as if they were in the same room.

“And if they are defying you by having that sort of weapon aboard again what is your will? Do you want to intercept them and remove them again?” Jeff asked Heather.

“No, they will anticipate another interception if they have those aboard. They wouldn’t risk doing that unless they think they can get past you. They may try to counter you based on your previous tactics. That probably wouldn’t work but I won’t risk you or anyone else against them knowing they will fight. Just the fact they know now that you can get inside the range at which their weapons are effective gives them too much of an advantage.

“No, if they try to fool us again, we’ll destroy the ship and all the orbital support structures from a safe distance. I count your previous intercept as subtle. It was their stupidity in resisting beyond reason after they were defeated that injured the pilots. If they don’t appreciate moderation and subtlety then we’ll use crude action they’ll understand.”

“If you want to send a message remove their facilities at the Cape,” April suggested. “They don’t have an equal port anywhere else.”

“You tempt me,” Heather said. “There is so much around the Cape in support facilities but there are innocent people and businesses that I don’t want to hurt. I don’t want a bombardment that splashes debris and damage into the neighboring counties. If they defy us, I’d be willing to damage the port infrastructure with rods but not the sort of a bombardment that’s meant to send a message. If they build back, we can do the rods again until they get the message they aren’t going to be allowed to rebuild.”

“That works for me,” April agreed. “Just enough damage that it can’t function.”

“I’ll have Walter make a pass with his instrument package,” Jeff said. “Maybe they will play it straight with us this time we won’t have to do any of these dire things.”

“I see another problem,” April said.

“What’s that, dear?” Heather asked.

“If they are swapping copilot rides, we could catch the French fellow aboard when we destroy her. They may have French support people in place right now too. We’ve had such good relations with France that seems a good way to destroy that relationship.”

“I’ll tell the French what we intend to do,” Heather decided. “It could be beneficial. They may demand North America assure them nothing like that is contemplated. If they suspect the North Americans are going to defy us again, they may withdraw.”

“They may just lie,” April said. “There’s a bit of a history of that.”

“Then it’ll be on them,” Heather said. “We’ve warned them. There’s an old saying. If you lie down with dogs you get up with fleas .”

* * *

“Excellency, The Sovereign of Central has decided to use me again as a conduit for communicating with you. I didn’t do anything to initiate this.”

Verlaine sighed. “Still with the excellency. I suppose that means it’s bad news?”

“I’m not sure. I think it depends largely on what you do with it,” Broutin said.

“Have you a printout?” the Prime Minister asked.

“No, it was short and verbal. So simple that I can remember the gist of it and have no fear of changing the meaning.”

“Very well, inform me,” Verlaine said struggling to hide his irritation.

Broutin nodded and closed his eyes concentrating.

“France has been historically friendly with Home and the Kingdom of Central. We have not had close relations with your particular administration but still, regard France with warm affection. It is therefore not a threat but a private friendly warning that we intend to examine the North American ship Constitution by remote sensing.

“If We see evidence of the same sort of binary nuclear kernels as before we intend to destroy the vessel and their supporting structures. We can’t in good conscience risk our people doing an intercept without the element of surprise. We can’t accept such beam-generating weapons in exploratory vessels that may encounter alien civilizations. In particular not from a nation that regularly initiates force as a political tool, not as a response to aggression from others.

“If you doubt the intent of North America to abide by the L1 limit We beg you not to risk your people or treasure. The destruction of supporting infrastructure may extend to Earth facilities if We feel it is warranted.”

“I may have switched a word or two but the young woman speaks with an intensity that defies interruption and etches it on your brain.

“I know. I can hear the royal We in your emphatic pronunciation. You could have been a Herald back in the day by the way you enunciate.”

“I don’t doubt the veracity of it,” Broutin emphasized.

“Neither do I,” Verlaine agreed. “I don’t think the lady knows how to bluff.”

Broutin stared at him hard and looked upset.

“I think it’s much worse than that. I don’t think the lady has any need of bluffing.”

“At least she credits me with valuing our people’s safety just as she does her own,” Verlaine said. “She doesn’t think me a villain to toss a life away needlessly.”

“Like the North Americans being unsaid. It would be a serious matter to withdraw from the mutual flights,” Broutin acknowledged. “If they are having any second thoughts, they could use it as an opportunity to withdraw and try to establish a guaranteeing agency on their own again. If it made us seem unreliable it could drive others to join them. Unfortunately, I don’t think simply asking what their intent is could be trusted. Not even in a public forum where they couldn’t deny it later.”

“We had no choice but to deal with them,” Verlaine admitted. “If it came down to who has the greater influence to gather a bigger following for their agency they would have won. We just allowed them to avoid an expensive fight by accepting us as nominal peers.”

“What are we to do then?” Broutin asked.

“We’ll talk with our copilot and explain the danger. Not to ask him if he wishes to assume the risk. Test pilots already assume huge risks. He might shrug it off. Rather to tell him why we are withdrawing him and any support people.

“As to how , we need to consult with medical experts and find some disease or condition that would preclude him from flying. Something that can be verified if the North Americans doubt us and surreptitiously check up on us. We may have to shave it so close to launch that he'll need to travel to the Cape before this condition manifests itself. It would be hard to turn down any local medical help and rush him back to France.”

“Something as simple as a bad tuna fish sandwich?” Broutin suggested.

“That sounds chancy. Let’s allow the doctors to figure it out,” Verlaine said.

* * *

“The Texans are going to have a booth at Mast’s spring fair,” Tommy said.

“I rather expected that,” Vic said. “They want an election at the fall fair. I’m not sure how they’ll do that. Maybe across the street at their compound.”

“They’re talking about doing it by mail anywhere past a full day’s walk from the fairgrounds. Which would mean I have to work sunup to sundown for a week and get the Texan’s cop and security guys to collect from some of the distant gang mailboxes.”

“The mailboxes they still don’t have delivered much less installed?” Vic asked.

“Yeah, but we have all summer,” Tommy said. “That’s one of the things they are going to be asking people. Where are there enough people to put a central mailbox site?”

“How are they going to keep people from casting extra ballots if you just put them in your mailbox?”

“The theory is that this time it’s still too hard for people to travel between the gang mailboxes to have access to more than ten or twenty. They are locking boxes so somebody would have to intimidate their neighbors to plant an extra. You have to leave outgoing mail in your box, not a common drop. We won’t be picking them up on election day but for over a week. So, anyone coercing their neighbors would have to set a watch on them to keep people from removing them later. I was told that if I find a cluster of boxes with the outgoing mail tab showing and no mail inside, we likely have a problem.”

“That will probably work for a year or two until people have better transportation,” Vic acknowledged. “But do you have to accept Texan citizenship to vote?”

“Not for this first election that is all county offices. Being in residence is going to be enough. In two years, there will be a national election, and I expect you’ll need to be a citizen for that. Not that I was told that. It just makes sense,” Tommy asserted.

“What are you going to do? Working for the post office, will you need to accept citizenship to keep your job?” Vic asked.

“I already applied,” Tommy revealed. “They’ll be accepting applications for citizenship and issuing permanent residence permits for foreign nationals at the fair. I was surprised that my boss knows of two foreigners who aren’t North Americans that have applied already. There’s a Brit and a Jamaican.”

“I guess they were doing good to get somewhere safe after The Day,” Vic realized. “Getting anywhere they could fly home would have been impossible.”

“But it won’t be long before they can travel to somewhere in Texas that has air connections if they want to go home. Or folks like you who want to go to space.”

“I think that will be possible long before we have the money to do it,” Vic said.

Tommy just nodded but he squinted a little and had that look on his face that he was thinking really hard about it even if he didn’t say anything.

Vic had to wonder if Alice wasn’t the only one who was thinking long and hard about how their leaving would affect those who remained.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 30

“It appears the French decided the cost of heeding your warning was too high,” Jeff said. “The North Americans and they are both doing heavy PR about how much they love each other and are cooperating for the betterment of mankind, yadda, yadda, yadda.”

“Don’t you bet on it,” Heather warned him “You’d just announce something smells about the deal and you weren’t going to do it. That’s not how Earth politics works. They’ll make up some lie about why they have to withdraw even if the truth would serve. I swear they lie just to stay in practice so they don’t slip up and tell the truth sometime by accident.”

“How can they back out graciously?” Jeff asked. “We’re very close to a launch and they’re running out of time to fabricate some reason to back out. Chen says by his count of crew lifted to the repair site for the Constitution and the people sent back to Earth, it appears they are down to six techies working on the ship. They will probably need that many right up until it launches. Even if one or two have finished their part they won’t schedule a shuttle until they have enough passengers to make it worthwhile.

“The scan shows no binary kernel weapons aboard but I’d rather not tell the French we are going to give them a pass and then they do or say something unacceptable at the last second.”

“You aren’t going to make another sensor pass?” April asked.

“It isn’t easy to set up to release the sensor package to pass close enough and be picked up later with both ends being unobserved. Every time we do it risks it being discovered and thus useless to us in the future. I think they are going to launch in the next week or two so we’re at the end of our useful window to check on them. They do have two conventional nukes aboard, so I doubt they are going to try to sneak in a beam weapon.”

“What could they do to make us stop them if it isn’t a prohibited weapon?” April said.

“They could just refuse to ask for clearance,” Heather reminded her.

“So, they reduced their loadout to two weapons?” April asked Jeff.

“It would appear so. And the sensors showed the kernels symmetrically opposite each other, not a hundred and twenty degrees apart like they are in three tubes with one empty. We’ll give them the benefit of the doubt on how much range they have. The middle section of the rebuild is about a meter and a half longer than the old ship. So, it isn’t the only change they’ve made.”

“If they’ve made elaborate plans about how to respond if we demand an inspection, it will just irritate the hell out of them not to have an opportunity to use them,” April said.

Heather just smiled.

* * *

An unintended consequence of bypassing internet censors and firewalls was that Mike Morse saw prohibited sites in other countries as well as sites off planet. Seeing ads for three different clinics offering life extension therapies on Home led him to European and Asian sites that gave hard numbers about the dangers of LET.

The early dangers that surfaced such as the well-known German Wiz Kids were long mitigated. The current risk of serious side effects for straight LET with no fancy enhancements was about one case in fifteen thousand treatments.

As someone who admitted he was past middle age the personal damage done by lying to him about the risk to extend his life was devastating. If he’d known twenty or thirty years earlier how safe and beneficial LET could be he’d have put forth the effort to afford it.

After the burning hot anger at being played for a fool subsided and he managed not to pound the table with his fist in frustration he returned to his usual calm analytical self. He was still on the right side of the sod so maybe there was still time to benefit from it. Just how old could you be and still benefit from LET?

He started searching the LET sites and reading questions and answers. Somebody called California Cowboy asked pretty much the same question and he started reading the responses. Three countries had decent statistics of the known recipients of full LET treatments in people over eighty years old. The prohibition or severe restriction of LET in many countries impaired data recovery. A composite of the three countries showed deaths after LET didn’t end but were reduced. There were still some medical deaths from defects that were likely undiagnosed birth defects or previous injury. Heart problems, aneurysms, and genetic susceptibility to various diseases for which there was no known cure.

Deaths from the diseases of old age vanished. Also, accidental deaths from slip and fall, tumbling down stairs and auto accidents almost disappeared. Deaths from accidents while skiing, diving, and playing contact sports increased. That made Mike smile. How many eighty-somethings engaged in those activities? They obviously took them up again. Nobody ever died of a wrinkly old face but it fixed bone loss and reversed joint damage too.

What was entirely missing from the death reports of the treated was the sort of obituary that referred to dying of natural causes or after a long decline with the family gathered at their bedside. It looked like he had a decade or two before he was beyond help. Of course, that meant leaving North America or perhaps even Earth. They were simply too hostile to LET. It took more than just buying it to live with LET in North America. You had to have the resources to hide it and be beyond being tested on the whim of some official’s suspicion. He’d bailed out on Chicago when it became untenable and survived. He could do it again. Who could guess what changes might happen to the law or the technology? Things might improve in his favor.

What it did mean was he’d have to stop doing interesting little side jobs to make his retirement comfortable. He didn’t miss the long hours and stress he’d experienced developing his pizza business but that life went with making some serious money.

* * *

“I’m sure he’s qualified and just happens to be drop-dead handsome,” Heather noted of the French pilot on the news.

“Umm, short, but not bad in a pale sort of Gallic way,” April agreed.

“Compact and low mass is a plus in a pilot,” Heather reminded her.

“And he likely has at least three-or four-hours training on the North American ship in case he has to actually fly it,” Jeff said all snarky.

Like most men, Jeff realized his ladies would rate other men’s appearance. He expected they would even compare notes. That didn’t mean he wanted to hear them doing so.

The news program wasn’t covering his arrival at the airport from France. They were staging the show from a Space Force facility with a huge logo on the wall behind them and as many top officials and officers as they could jam in front of the camera.

They made the Frenchman wait while the top civilian and the top Space Forces commander had a say. He looked fidgety and nervous as they droned on. Finally, they brought the pilot forward for a word and introduced him.

“I am so honored to be chosen for such a historic flight,” Alex Blanc said.

“Of course, they picked one proficient in English,” April said.

Oddly he paused through April’s aside and then looked confused.

“I’m uh, thank you for your confidence and the friendship… uh, friendship…”

He looked distressed and took a deep breath and visibly gathered himself.

“I, I,” he struggled to say and then leaned over and threw up on the expensive carpet.

Mercifully the cameraman didn’t pan down to broadcast the event but the sounds were bad enough. It took a full fifteen seconds before the feed was killed.

It was that long again before any of the three spoke.

“You think that was engineered?” Jeff asked.

“I have no doubt it was a setup,” Heather said. “The only thing I wonder is if they recruited him to do it or sprung it on him without his consent.”

“There is the problem of veracity software,” Jeff said. “He’d have to be very careful what he said if he knew he was going to be sick.”

“There’s not a single Earth Country where veracity analysis is admissible in court. Not even places where old-fashioned polygraph tests are legal,” April said. “No news network is going to cite what their software said. He’s pretty safe from that. The USNA may know they’ve been sabotaged but those kinds of things aren’t made public.”

“I’m tempted to just ask Broutin,” Heather said.

“I’ve found they never tell him much,” April said. “They use him as a buffer.”

“Well, I’m not going to call Verlaine,” Heather said. “He’s never found reason to speak with me. I won’t be the petitioner asking for information on our first face-to-face.”

“Oh look. They’ve found somebody with a lot of pretty medals to tell us what’s going on,” Heather said.

The officer in black dress did look splendid with a huge patch of fruit salad displayed on his chest. They amounted to an impressive résumé , but none of the three Spacers had any idea how to read them.

“This will not delay our mission,” the fellow was assuring the reporters. “We always have multiple backups for crew and support personnel. It’s a shame such a grand gesture of cooperation will be canceled but I’m sure we’ll have other opportunities in the future.

“We of course feel terribly for Msr. Blanc. They have taken him to the base hospital to be evaluated. We have no indication it is anything serious. He seemed more embarrassed than ill as he was being transported.”

“It might get interesting if he was contagious,” Heather speculated. “I’m sure a lot of those people are wondering about that and rushing off to wash their hands who glad-handed him for the camera.”

* * *

“What did you do to Blanc to make him so ill?” Broutin inquired directly.

“Is that why you asked to see me? Do you have any need to know of which I’m not aware?” Verlaine asked a bit smugly.

“No, it’s simple curiosity,” Broutin replied. “You’re the one who needs me to know.”

“How could that possibly be?” Verlaine seemed skeptical.

“Because you keep using me in retirement for dealing with the Spacers. If you get all pompous and by-the-book with me you will find my utility much diminished the next time you need me.”

Verlaine didn’t reply quickly which just angered Broutin.

“Go ahead and tell me you’ll talk to them directly or you have some other spox who will go up there knowing you haven’t told them half of what’s going on? Do you think I’m stupid? I know exactly how you use me and the effectiveness of it is enhanced by my active cooperation.

“By now the North Americans have tested Blanc and know what you used to make him ill. Hopefully, they have no way to prove you did so deliberately but there is little chance they will call you on it publicly even if they suspect it strongly. It wouldn’t surprise me if their closest allies are informed already. Given the frightening effectiveness of the Moon Queen’s intelligence service, she probably knows.

“Perhaps I should just call her and ask with what sort of agent he was inoculated. If I display no doubt that was how it happened, she’d never suspect dear simple Pierre who is kept out of the loop would bluff about such a thing.”

“Oh, calm yourself Broutin. It’s not that we think you’re simple. You simply don’t have a duplicitous bone in your body. Your face is a direct display of your soul. If all men were like you, it would be a very different world. That’s not to say it would be better or more peaceful. Sometimes a tactful lie is welcome if your enemy will be forced into conflict by an ugly truth that you’d both rather avoid.”

“I’ve never heard such a self-serving defense of dishonesty,” Broutin said.

“Bah, if you hadn’t learned to do that in your private life, you’d never have been able to finish school or stay married a month. If you tell your professor he’s a pompous fool or your wife how she really looks in that new dress, you know you’ll pay a price. That will only ruin your life, but rabid honesty by public figures can kill millions.

“Look at the brutal honesty of Luther. He made his point but at the expense of setting Christendom ablaze for almost two centuries. The Thirty Years’ War set Christian brother against Christian brother over truths that left at least a third of Germany dead. Did that truth improve anyone’s life worth the carnage and destruction?”

“I doubt telling me what made Blanc sick will reignite Europe,” Broutin said.

“Are you sure ? A word to the wrong person might rub North America’s nose in the fact we withdrew uncertain of their honesty and didn’t want any part of defying the Spacers. A resulting failure to respect the Moon Queens L1 doctrine out of anger may unleash a bombardment of North America that will make the Thirty Years’ War look like a children’s birthday party with cake. We’d be devastated here without a bomb falling on us just from the smoke and dust of their destruction.

“That being said, it was a Norovirus because the incubation period matched the timing of events. They checked his blood for antibodies and there was a fairly mild variety of flu to which he hadn’t been exposed we could have used. However, it wouldn’t have become symptomatic until he was at their orbital facility. That would have exposed most of their critical personnel and almost certainly scrubbed their launch. We just wanted to withdraw Blanc not sabotage their entire effort and cause a significant delay.

“By the way, the doctors were horrified at your suggestion of deliberate food poisoning. They informed me that nobody has conducted studies of just how contaminated a tuna fish sandwich must be to produce distress, but not kill the subject. If you are off on the progression of the bacterial culture for as  little as fifteen minutes, you may kill your target.”

“I don’t understand,” Broutin said. “You told me how dangerous informing me could be with historic horror stories and then go ahead and tell me anyway.”

“You are far less dangerous knowing but being aware of how dangerous the information could be. If I refused you and you went on a holy campaign demanding truth and openness, there is no telling what damage you could do,” Verlaine warned.

“I don’t like that. I don’t like that at all but it makes perfect sense to me,” Broutin admitted.

“Good, that speaks well to your ability to see reality outside your wishes of what it should be. It should keep you safely under control for the needed time,” Verlaine said.

“What needed time?” Broutin asked suspiciously. “What have you planned ?”

“Not me. You ,” Verlaine told him. “It’s obvious you are of an age in retirement where you will have to decide if you want the rest of the life extension treatments or resign yourself to all the afflictions of aging. You can’t do that on Earth but you have the financial means to do so. You have visited Home and seem favorably impressed with the community. I can’t see any other outcome but that you’ll be moving there soon. Then your utility , as you put it, to France will diminish even if you remain favorably disposed to us. No hard feelings if you go, Broutin. I’ll face that same decision soon enough myself.”

“My God, Verlaine. Am I that thoroughly transparent?”

“Have you been paying attention at all, Pierre? That’s been the central theme of this entire conversation.”

* * *

“They’re going to live broadcast the launch?” April asked. “Why? It isn’t like an Earth launch where your ship climbs out of sight on flame and thunder. It’s about as exciting as tuning on a flashlight and throwing it off into the dark. You have about fifteen seconds looking up the exhaust end before it’s just a diminishing pinpoint of light. There isn’t even much chance it will vanish in a ball of flame like some of the early chemical rockets.”

“You think that was the attraction to some people? The risk of disaster?” Jeff asked.

“Yes, just like watching auto racing. Nobody would watch if there was never a wreck. But lacking that, they’ll schedule it for early evening in North America and have talking heads telling you why you should care for hours before and after. They’ll keep replaying the boring launch ten or twelve times and keep showing the flight deck by telemetry after. All the free video channels will preempt the regular shows so you have no choice of anything else to watch,” Heather predicted.

“And yet I’m going to watch,” Jeff confessed.”

“Well yeah, but not all day. Does anybody want to lay odds on whether they will broadcast asking clearance to pass L1?” April asked.

“It’s hard to guess how they think,” Jeff admitted. “On the one hand, they could just act like it’s something normal they’ve done a hundred times before. But if we refuse or request an inspection how does that look in their eyes? Is it a humiliation they’d want to avoid or can it be used to show how we are unreasonable and vindictive?”

“I don’t know. I can’t get inside their heads either,” April admitted.

“Maybe they’ll delay the transmission just long enough to cut it off if it’s not going favorably for them,” Heather said.

“Wouldn’t it be obvious why they were doing that?” Jeff asked. “It seems like it would look just as bad to use a delayed transmission even if you didn’t end up needing it.”

“How would their public know ?” Heather asked amused at Jeff’s naivete. “The Space Force feed will have all sorts of data and video included and be encrypted. You couldn’t sort out the voice part on your own. You just have to accept what they release at face value.”

“You’re too honest to have thought to do that,” April told Jeff. “That’s one of the reasons we love you and it’s not a defect at all.”

“It’s too hard to think like that,” Jeff admitted. “I can’t do it very well.”

“You can be sure they have just as difficult a time trying to understand and predict how you think,” Heather told him.

Jeff nodded seeming in agreement. But he was thinking that not being able to understand or predict your enemy’s thinking didn’t sound noble to him. It sounded like a good way to be defeated.

* * *

“President Dewar wants a progress report. What have you come up with since we talked?” Chairman Dumont asked.

“It’s not worthy of a full meeting?” Dawson asked.

“Be happy not to go into a full meeting,” Dumont advised him. “He hasn’t been happy with much of anyone and you aren’t at the top of his very short happy list. Have you been able to fit some sort of response aboard for another possible attack on the Constitution ?”

“I built a response, as ordered, based on an identical boarding attack at close range.”

“You find that unlikely,” Dumont said. He didn’t quite make it a question.

“Extremely. Singh isn’t stupid. He won’t do the same thing twice. I’m not at all certain I’m as smart as him and I wouldn’t repeat the same tactics. This isn’t a contest between units of a larger military machine where they have hundreds of say: fighter planes. All armed the same and following standard doctrines until it doesn’t work. Whatever sort of gun shot through the Constitution is probably ripped out and replaced with something else by now. They captured our most advanced nuclear weapon last time so what could they possibly gain from the risk of another boarding? Any gain now is a lesser prize for a heightened risk.”

“But what did you put in place?” Dumont insisted.

“We identified two places fore and aft on the frame that could receive a side thrust without damage. There are now six very compact claymore mines installed in a ring around each of the two locations. Any two inline can be detonated from the flight deck and spray overlapping cones of tiny tungsten carbide cubes from the ship. If the Spacer vessel isn’t exactly in line with a pair, a full six can be detonated together to cover a wide angle.

“With advanced explosives, very dense projectiles, and a gel base to rupture and absorb recoil, they and the control wiring only add forty-two kilograms to the Constitution . The designers begrudged even that. On the plus side, it meets their demand for short-range weapons. I’m afraid Dewar is hoping it is used.”

“Well, of course !” Dumont looked at him like he was a fool. “The only thing that would give him more satisfaction would be to press the button himself. He hates them.”

He’s a fool , Dawson thought but it was far too dangerous to say anything.

Dumont wasn’t any sort of mind reader but could see Dawson’s face. He smiled and gave one slow affirmative nod.

* * *

Vic thought the Texans might set up in front of their new headquarters across the road. That would be plenty visible to anyone coming or leaving the fair. Some of the people who saved money by staying across the street instead of renting a trading site from Mr. Mast were probably dismayed. The free open land was much diminished and not directly across from the fair now. That resulted in two camps of vendors on each side of the Texans. Not everyone would make the effort to visit both.

The Texans might well have fenced or taped off the areas on each side of them but hadn’t. Vic thought that was smart public relations not to deny the use of it. They might build on it later but were trying not to be overbearing.

Instead, Councilor Corey and his minions rented a double space and built a very decent booth with a raised canopy in front to shelter from rain or sun. The Texan flag was hanging on each side of the center entry. They had a lot of signage inviting people to register for permanent residency or citizenship and free ice water. That was part of the old normal most people hadn’t seen in a couple of years. It wasn’t flavored so the vendors of fruit juices and hot drinks couldn’t complain they were competing.

They had a desk out front under the canopy kept manned and a sign behind that said: “Got questions? We’ll try to answer them.” Ed Stafford, Tommy’s boss had a supply of forms and pamphlets and a big pad of paper for the odd question. He was wearing spex, which hardly any locals had before and fewer had working versions now.

“Got a question?” Ed called out to Vic when he approached. He seemed to be enjoying his work.

“Yeah, what are most people asking about? Vic wondered.

“Are you going to start collecting taxes?” he raised a thumb.

“Do we have to leave if we don’t become citizens?” he said adding a finger.

“When will we be able to buy gasoline or diesel again?”

“Are we going to be able to register births, marriages, and deaths?

“And how do we get a job with the Texan government?” He finished with an open hand.

“When are you going to collect taxes?” Vic asked.

“Tax collection is suspended in all new territory by executive decree until the onsite administrator declares the economy is normalized with most people running a business or working a job for cash money rather than barter. That means I’m working tax-free so I hope Mr. Corey isn’t in any great ripping hurry to end it.”

“That must take a little of the sting out of a hardship post,” Vic guessed.

Ed Stafford just smiled.

“May I ask you a question?” Ed requested.

“Of course. But does Texas have a right to refuse self-incrimination?” Vic asked him.

“It does because our law hasn’t diverged from North American precedence all that much. However, it’s the same watered-down version hampered by case law. Bad case law in my opinion but I’m not a lawyer and nobody is asking me.”

“In that case, ask. But I may refuse to answer.”

“We had two families come in and report to Councilor Corey that they had armed men claiming to represent Wells Fargo bank ran them off their property. They were both admitted squatters which probably contributed to their being easy to intimidate. However, we are not involved in any scheme to evict squatters. He advised them to go back home. When Councilor Corey inquired, Wells Fargo denied any such action on their part. Texas law requires a court hearing and a notice to be served before eviction. Everyone I’ve asked avows no knowledge of this. It’s hard to believe these fellows didn’t talk to anyone else. Is this one of those things like we have in the big towns where nobody knows anything when the police show up?”

“That could easily be,” Vic agreed. “We’ve been watching after each other and dealing with bandits on our own. You have no history with us yet. You can’t expect a lot of trust. Nobody wants to be the first to test the waters. Are you going to be reasonable and helpful, or are you going to blame the victims as happens some places?”

“Texas has strong protections for self-defense and defending your home,” Ed said.

“That’s good, but do you enforce them or is the prosecution selective?” Vic asked. “Is it done the same for a squatter in newly conquered territory the same as a big businessman living in a penthouse apartment in Houston?”

“You have a suspicious mind,” Ed accused.

“I’m not really old yet, but I’ve been around the barn both ways a few times.”

“Councilor Corey intends to protect the locals from outsiders that may filter in as the roads are opened and connections to our core territory made easier. Even agents who may try to act under the color of law. The patrols opening the roads have been instructed to watch for outsiders offering unwanted protection or committing outright theft by scavenging abandoned buildings. How would you react to being threatened with an illegal eviction?”

Vic considered the high-end spex Ed was wearing. He could very well be running veracity measuring software and analyzing any ambiguity in his reply.

“I’ve already had some shyster lawyers mail me an offer of a hundred-thousand dollars for a quit claim deed on my property,” Vic said. “I can laugh that off. I’d do the same for anybody who showed up on my porch spouting nonsense like that. But you said, armed men. If somebody shows up at my door waving a gun like a fool and making threats, I’ll do like we’ve all been doing the last few years. You shoot, shovel, and shut up.”

Ed looked shocked at the honesty of the reply. If he was running government-level veracity software Vic’s reply was perfectly truthful without making any admission of previous actions. One couldn’t be prosecuted for saying he’d theoretically do something.

“We sort of suspected that. Corey isn’t looking to start any witch-hunts,” Ed assured him. “So far, we haven’t had anybody trying to denounce us as invaders and start a guerrilla campaign against us. That has happened in other places. The worst I’ve had is a fellow in digicam who walked by a couple of times earlier with a Gadsden flag and gave me the old fish eye. I have some Texan flags I can hand out to families declaring citizenship. I waved him over and asked him if he’d like one to add to his patriotic flag collection. I think he was surprised and liked that. He took it.”

“So far, all your people have approached my house and called out from a distance and didn’t come right to my door with their arms at ready,” Vic said. “That’s just smart. It may be a few years before things are so stable you can march up and beat on the door armed. Certainly not making any verbal demands or orders. You can tell Cory I said I approve of your mild approach and not to get comfortable and drop that behavior too early.”

“I’ll advise him of that,” Ed promised.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 31

On Mars, Director Schober’s thoughts turned to his hired men. He had a lot of other problems in his little colony occupying his mind but they were an unofficial and personal problem. It seemed like he should have had another request for funds from Vasco by now.

When he checked his calendar, it was immediately apparent he’d not been managing them closely enough. With the prices of things on Home, he should have run out of money two weeks ago. He sent a simple message to report back to him to Vasco Simic’s phone and sat stewing about it. The current interplanetary distance would mean a twenty-four-minute delay today before the man answered. He had time to go grab a quick lunch but the more he thought about it the less appetite he had. He sent another request for a report but this one to his secret banker. His monthly statement was almost due but he requested a current transaction sheet for the Visa card and an account balance.

* * *

“The Secretary of Defense briefed me directly,” Colonel Block informed the flight crew of the Constitution . “I’m instructed to tell you directly before you lift to the staging orbit that your Rules of Engagement are very liberal. You are not required to wait be directed to stand to or come under fire to consider any approach and contact hostile. Given the history of the Centralist’s aggression against the Constitution’s previous mission, you are weapons-free to defend your ship and mission from any approach. Be assured nobody will second guess you or bring a hostile inquiry. Rather you should expect you will get a combat citation with Valor for any action you take engaging an admittedly superior vessel.”

Walking between buildings later, the copilot stopped and faced away from the building they were passing to put her back to any cameras or microphones. She pointed off in the distance like she was discussing some of the historic gantries and sites and didn’t turn her head, speaking very softly.

“The colonel bluntly wants us to blow away any Spacer that comes within range of us even before they hail us. How do you feel about that, Commander?”

“I have serious misgivings about the legality of a shoot on sight order,” he admitted. “Note that it was not put to us as a direct order. Also face to face so there is no written or electronic record. It smells of carefully manufactured deniability.”

He looked out over the Cape and the thin line of the ocean visible in the distance considering the problem in silence for a moment.

“You know all the services give special awards and status for being an expert marksman,” he told his copilot. “One can be accused of cowardice for refusing to engage the enemy, but I’ve never heard of anyone being court-martialed for missing on a shot taken. You will be running the weapons board while I am operating the flight controls. I may order you to fight your ship but the skill with which you aim and discharge your weapons is beyond my control. Just like the colonel, I’ll assure you I won’t second guess you.”

“That’s comforting,” his copilot said. “I have been known to get my clock-wise and counter-clockwise rolls confused in the heat of the moment. Gee, are they described that way looking fore or aft?” she asked like it was a new thought.

“I’m not sure there is an official standard published,” his commander said. “Best to look it up in the manuals for airmen if you remember to do so in the busy hours before launch. With the carry-over of nautical terms to space, it wouldn’t make sense in wet ship terms. Maybe submariners have rolled the boat over on its axis. It sounds like something the crazy suckers would risk a multi-billion-dollar boat to do just to see if it could be done.”

His second snorted in amusement.

“One hopes they would warn the galley to secure the soup first.”

“Nah. You just have to do it fast enough for the g-forces to hold it on the stove.”

Nothing more was said about it.

* * *

“Do you have some popcorn?” Jeff asked April.

“As a matter of fact, I do. I just started on a two-kilo bag recently. Do you have a sudden taste for it?” April inquired.

“It’s traditional to make some for watching high drama events of uncertain ending.”

“The Norte Americanos are finally going to launch?” April asked.

“In the morning at six am their Eastern time they’ll start the pre-game talking heads. The launch should be about noon eastern so the entire country will be able to watch outside normal sleeping hours.”

“I’m sorry we can’t watch it with Heather,” April said. “Everything fast enough to get us together is tied up. She’ll have to watch with us on com but it’s not the same.”

“She’ll have to pop her own corn,” Jeff said as if that was what they’d miss.

“Have they picked a target star?” April wondered.

“They’re aiming at something in Orion,” Jeff said with a vague wave of his hand.

“Probably Gliese 205,” April said.

“I thought they decided it was uninhabitable,” Jeff said. “I thought they’d go for Earthlike as soon as possible trying to find a living world.”

“They’ve changed their minds back and forth six times. A close look will resolve it.”

“Let’s declare it a vacation day, eat junk food, and turn off the com for any but priority messages,” Jeff suggested.

“Works for me,” April agreed.

* * *

Mike Morse also had popcorn at the ready, a cold six-pack of beer, and a deli hoagie for lunch. With his new skills, he was watching the launch through an Indian news site. The commentary would still be in English but he expected the tone of the reporting to differ.

* * *

“I understand some people play a drinking game while watching political speeches,” Jeff Singh said. “You pick two or three predictable keywords or phrases such as ‘notorious regime’ or ‘evildoers’ or ‘depraved Spacers’ and everybody drinks a shot of liquor when they happen. I can see that would work with this. You could choose ‘historic’, ‘unprecedented’, and ‘impressive’ for the game today and be comfortably numb by the actual launch.”

“I don’t understand the point of it,” April said. “I think just watching them talk I can feel brain cells dying from the lack of use. Why hasten it with alcohol? You don’t really want to do that do you?”

“No, I’m just talking and remembering silly stuff. I’m not sure there is a point to it unless they’re forced to watch. But then I never understood a lot of Earth practices such as adult people watching others play a game like tennis instead of going to play it and get the exercise themselves.”

“Do you think they will broadcast asking clearance or would that be demeaning?” April asked. They’d considered the question back and forth several times.

“I haven’t seen anything new to give me a clue,” Jeff admitted. “Why don’t you put Earth and Lunar Control in little windows captioned? That way if they’re ignoring it in the news feed, we’ll see it happening.”

“OK, and a quarter screen for Heather and send her an invitation from it. Half screen for the official news feed. You want the European or Asian take on the event?” April said.

“Nah, let’s do the full immersion experience from North America,” Jeff decided.

“Anything else?” April asked.

“Is it too early to start on the popcorn?” Jeff wondered.

“Not if you can face it so soon after breakfast. I’ll have mine later.”

It was two more hours before there was a break from talking heads. The only really interesting part was a discussion about how the flight would finally put to rest the question of the habitability of the exoplanet. They ran through the long history of scientific opinion flip-flopping on the question.

“Oh look, they are bringing out the crew,” April said.

The replacement copilot was a young woman who might have been taken for the pilot’s sister in another setting. They both were thin and dark-haired with slim noses. If anything, she had a few millimeters of height on her commander. They were both in pressure suits with no gloves or helmets. April wondered aloud if they were catheterized. Otherwise, they were going to need to unsuit to use the toilet before launch. It was a lot of effort to put on a display of readiness for the camera.

Instead of interviewing the crew, the commentators discussed their childhood hometowns and schooling, then a much-abbreviated version of their military career while they received a short briefing from the second in command at the Space Forces. There was an interactive icon to tap if you wanted the briefing captioned in the background without losing the talking heads. None of the Spacers thought it worth turning on.

Jeff had spoiled his appetite for lunch with popcorn and April was looking for news feeds about anything else on her pad. The launch show was terribly boring. Heather had her mic muted and was discussing something with her assistant Dakota before they finally showed the crew taking their seats in the Constitution . The feed didn’t show anything of the controls or instruments that would have been of interest. It just showed the crew side by side in their couches from the waist up and the deck behind them.

The crew buckled in and started reaching up near the camera flipping switches. The audio continued uninformative blather from the commentators. April turned the traffic control feeds on audio louder than the news channel. There was an occasional request or advisory but long periods of silence until the Constitution broke in.

“Earth Control, this is the USNA Space Force vessel Constitution, Johnathan Hertz commanding, requesting to break orbit and depart your control volume for translunar space. Our flight parameter file is attached.”

“Constitution, Earth Control has no interfering traffic. You are cleared for departure.”

The Spacers all held their breaths for the first time, alert to what was happening after the long boring morning. The public broadcast audio hadn’t included his departure request and Earth Control hadn’t presumed to tell them to contact Lunar Control. The commander turned his head slightly. That was their only clue he said something to his copilot. The commentators were saying the ship was moving now and the feed split to show the drive lighting up from a camera specially placed for that view.

“Lunar Control, this is Mellissa Souza sitting second on the USNA explorer Constitution . Requesting clearance to pass L1 on an extra-solar vector for Gliese 205. Our detailed flight plan is attached.”

“Constitution, you are cleared for immediate extra-solar passage. Be safe out there.”

There was a pause while Mellissa either couldn’t believe their clearance was that simple or she didn’t know what to make of the chatty admonition to be safe. Lunar Control and the local control on habitats often appended well wishes, unlike Earth Control.

“Thank you, Lunar Control,” she recovered. “We’ll make every effort. Proceeding.”

“Ha! They didn’t risk feeding it to the public live,” April said. “Also, they were a Space Force ship to Earth Control but an explorer to Lunar Control.”

“I noticed something,” Jeff said. “When they show the pilot looking straight ahead there is a reflection right on his helmet. You can’t see his mouth move. I noticed when he rolled his head towards his copilot you could see him speak briefly.”

“To frustrate lip readers?” April figured it out pretty quickly.

“That’s what I think.”

“I think you’re right because how irritating would it be to have a light shining in your face while you are trying to read your screens?”

“Let’s hope they trust them enough to let them switch it off after the launch,” Jeff said.

“I’d switch it off one way or another,” April said. “I had a pad that chirped a little too enthusiastically. I jammed a dental pick in the little hole and broke it off.”

“That would be damaging government property for them,” Jeff said. “I doubt their military would take kindly to sabotaging ship’s systems.”

April gave him a look that said how much she’d care about that.

“I think that’s all the excitement I can stand for one day,” Heather told them. “Call me if they return pursued by an armada of alien warships.” She disconnected.

“Well, that was kind of anticlimactic,” April decided.

“Good. We don’t want the kind of climax we get every time we go head-to-head with the Earthies. Well, in fairness with the North Americans mostly. I hope their acceptance of the L1 limit holds for years and gives us more time to find safe havens far, far away.”

“I hope that doesn’t mean we’re going to stop checking outgoing ships for prohibited weapons,” April said. “It’s fine to avoid conflict when they would try to make this a test case, but they will figure it out and abuse it if there’s no enforcement at all.”

“Don’t worry,” Jeff assured her. “We’ll do enough spot checks to make sure they know we’re actively enforcing it. We just won’t walk into an ambush.”

* * *

Director Schober sat at his desk feeling hollow regarding the ruin of his plans. He never thought Vasco Simic would be bright enough to guess how he was controlling him. The man’s phone was not in service and Schober’s accounts were down to six figures Australian.

He considered all his assets and liabilities. At least he’d used his early skimmings to procure the best Life Extension Therapy that could be sent to Mars and not require a doctor to administer. That meant he had time to begin stashing cash away again.

The downside was that there was less cash to skim now from Europe. The individual European governments had all abandoned general funding for Mars and only paid for specific projects and research. Recent events had soured many wealthy donors from funding them. He might have to use the outpost’s original purpose as a source of funding.

A sudden thought struck him. If the wealthy were failing as a source of revenue why not tap the public? All sorts of people posted a regular blog and monetized it by taking contributions or selling related chachka. He had plenty of cash left to set that up.

He’d start over, and if an opportunity ever presented itself, he’d see that Vasco Simic and his sleazy little partner were properly paid back.

* * *

“The Constitution has been gone two weeks,” April said.

“Yeah. I sort of assumed they made some drive improvements to let them explore within wider limits in the target system,” Jeff said. “I checked. The exoplanet will be in a good position to observe too.”

“Things will have shifted so far when they return that they better have saved some extra Delta-V for the return trip too,” April said.

“One presumes they are aware that keeps adding up, and won’t run themselves dry,” Jeff said. “Not my circus, not my monkeys as the old saying goes.”

Jeff stopped and looked at her thoughtfully.

“Are you building up to doing another rescue? You do remember we were afraid they’d be hostile if we approached them leaving? If we showed up at Gliese 205, they might assume we are there with hostile intent instead of for a rescue.”

April didn’t say anything.

“I’ll give you this. If they come back in the Solar System offset so far they are having difficulty getting back to the Earth-Moon system I’ll offer to bring them home safely.”

“I was worried that if they don’t come back, we might get blamed for it,” April said.

“Why would anybody think that?” Jeff asked.

“They’ve accused us of wanting to keep them from the stars,” April said. “How bad would losing the Constitution set them back? Years I bet. We already wrecked it pretty badly once. Surely some of them know we have the capability of following them there.”

“But we have very limited search capability to find them even if we follow them to that star system. We might find them if they are transmitting a distress call but the odds of getting within radar range of them is really astronomical,” Jeff said.

“I know that but if they don’t come back don’t be surprised if we’re accused.”

That worry disappeared the next day when the Constitution reappeared. It was displaced from Earth significantly. Rather than make a quick return they made a slow long trip of it. Jeff couldn’t understand how that worked. The extra consumables would add more mass than building bigger fuel reserves. It was a puzzle.

The big bombshell didn’t burst until the Constitution had been back two days.

Jeff, April, and Heather were all separate and busy when their coms gave a priority ping. The screen showed a hit on just about every keyword they’d entered.

An Official Release of the USNA Space Force Information Office

“The USNA Space Force explorer Constitution having made a superluminal transition to the Gliese 205 star system entered when a favorable transit of its exoplanet would favor a flyby. Upon examining the planet with high-resolution cameras, it detected the presence of a non-technological civilization in an equatorial zone. Areas of cut forest, cultivation, clusters of dwellings, and lines of cleared land indicate either made roads or paths worn by repeated traffic.

There was no indication of radio emissions or electrical lighting. Neither were there the sort of secondary emissions that would indicate the use of electrical power. Thermal scanning suggested the use of fire on a local non-industrial scale. Some images suggest the presence of light boats but not large ocean-going vessels.

There were no large buildings and no indication of large dams or bridges.

Imaging from orbit is unable to provide details of the inhabitants save the fact they walk upright. Shadow analysis indicates they peak at 1.3 meters.

Further details will have to wait for explorers capable of carrying either landers or some sort of drop drone with sensors. Select images will be available on our website in approximately two days.”

The three’s computers were creating huge lists of secondary sources as every news network created a flood of repeats and opinion pieces from the primary news release. All three Spacers shut down their news search function because the list would be too large.

Jeff connected to his ladies before they could do so first.

“Well, it looks like we will get to see if the Martians are right and humanity flips out over finding real live aliens,” he said.

“I don’t see why they would,” April objected. “These people, if they qualify as people, aren’t anything like whoever made that crashed ship on Mars. They can’t be any threat to us and probably weren’t aware of a brief new light moving in the heavens. The Constitution isn’t big enough to be very visible.”

“Humanity won’t flip out as you put it,” Heather insisted. “But given human nature, you may be sure certain individuals and groups will display an irrational fear or denial. I’m sure some government will disbelieve it simply because it’s the North Americans saying it.”

“There are scientists who predicted we’d never find aliens who will declare it a fraud because it will destroy their careers,” Jeff said.

“Some of the hyper-religious will declare them animals without souls because they aren’t mentioned in their scriptures. The rest will be hot to send them missionaries,” April predicted.

“They don’t sound like they will challenge us as the pinnacle of creation,” Heather said.

“We’ve told a few people here and there that there are aliens. I don’t know about you but I’m not sure anybody ever believed me,” Jeff said. “A few straight out said they didn’t believe me without as much as a pause to consider it.”

“We’re lost in the background noise of other fringe people who announce aliens, flying saucers, Atlantis rising from the sea, and who play cards with the Loch Ness monster every Friday night,” Heather said.

“I’m fringe ?” Jeff asked in dismay.

“Honey, you are off the edge, floating away, completely gone,” Heather assured him.

“I guess all my efforts to sound reasonable and believable were just wasted then.”

“Not with people on Home and Central,” April reminded him.

“In another week we could send the Prospector as backup and land the Chariot to see first-hand what the natives are like at Gliese 205,” April said.

“We have another living planet waiting to be explored,” Jeff reminded her.

“No, please ,” Heather begged. “We don’t even have a decent team assembled for evaluating uninhabited worlds. I can see so many ways that could go wrong. If we have any misstep with the natives and the next Earthie team to arrive is greeted with a hail of arrows they will be seriously irritated with us. Rightly so.”

“It could be seen as encroaching on their discovery,” Jeff suggested.

Heather looked alarmed.

“I hope they don’t think it’s a discovery they can claim to develop . We can’t be repeating the way entire populations were shoved off their land and sometimes exterminated. I’m not just talking about technologically superior Europeans either. There were plenty of places where outsiders came in and looted and displaced the population without guns or steel.”

“Genghis Khan,” April supplied.

“Exactly,” Heather agreed. “The Mongols had stirrups that let them use their horses better. Bows that were better suited to mounted use and tactics to use those advantages.”

“What if they do decide to take their world or exploit the natives?” Jeff asked.

Heather sat up differently and her face assumed a different aspect.

“Then We shall issue a finding that anyone encroaching on the property of aboriginals unable to defend themselves will be subject to attack and their property taken as spoils with no warning. If Our people are unable to do that, We shall issue letters of marque and reprisal inviting others to act under Our colors,” Heather pronounced.

“Far be it from me to argue with you if you feel that strongly about it,” Jeff said.

“I think the Earthies will be angered by another decree so soon after being forced to yield to the L1 declaration,” April said. “But it’s the right thing to do. The only suggestion I have is let’s not hit them with it until it’s actually a problem. They might shock us and do the right thing all on their own. If you declare that, they may resist simply because it is you saying it.”

Heather seems to shrink and soften a little and replied in her normal voice.

“That seems reasonable. As you said, we do have a new world of our own to go explore. Are you two going along like you did with the Bubbles landing?”

“Why can’t you arrange to come with us?” April asked. “Nothing is happening that is any emergency. The North Americans won’t go back to Gliese 205 so quickly you need to be here to monitor them. If they finally get their claims organization working, that would be a logical forum in which to encourage them to treat aboriginal populations better than in the past. Perhaps you can prick their consciences before they act badly.”

“You’re right,” Heather decided. “I wouldn’t, uh…”

“Yes?” April asked. It wasn’t like Heather to falter and stumble in her speech.

“I was going to say I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Heather said. “But the saying doesn’t work very well now. Am I speaking of the Slum Ball or another? See what I mean?”

“Don’t miss making it our world,” April suggested.

“I won’t, dear. It’s been too long since we had an adventure together .”

The End

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The Last Part

Other Kindle Books & Links by Mackey Chandler

April (first of a series of 13 books)

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, who give them a thin technological edge in rebellion. It's a good thing because things get very rough and dicey.

Down to Earth (sequel to April)

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007RGBIVK

April seems to make a habit of rescues. Now two lieutenants from the recent war appeal to her for help to reach Home. The secret they hold makes their escape doubtful. North America, the United States of North America, has been cheating on their treaty obligations and a public figure like April taking a very visible vacation there would be a good way to remind them of their obligations. Wouldn't it? Her family and business associates all think it is a great idea. She can serve a public purpose and do her rescue on the sly too. But things get difficult enough just getting back Home alive is going to be a challenge. It's a good thing she has some help. Why does everything have to be so complicated?

Family Law (First of a series of 6 books.) Also as audiobooks.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006GQSZVS

Who is family? Who should decide? Should it be a matter of law? Could an alien adopt a Human?

Of course, if the alien in question can fly starships and is the size and temperament of a mature Grizzly bear one needs a certain delicacy in trying to tell him no…

The Long Voyage of the Little Fleet (sequel to Family Law

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B006GQSZVS

In the first book of this series "Family Law", Lee's parents and their business partner Gordon found a class A habitable planet. They thought their quest as explorers was over and they'd live a life of ease. But before they could return and register their claim Lee's parents died surveying the surface. That left Lee two-thirds owner of the claim and their partner Gordon obligated by his word with her parents to raise Lee. She had grown up aboard ship with her uncle Gordon and he was the only family she'd ever known. His adopting her was an obvious arrangement - to them. Other people didn't see it so clearly over the picky little fact Gordon wasn't human.

After finding prejudice and hostility on several worlds Lee thought planets might be nice to visit, but terrible places to live. She wanted back in space exploring. Fortunately, Gordon was agreeable and the income from their discovery made outfitting an expedition possible. Lee wanted to go DEEP - out where it was entirely unknown and the potential prizes huge. After all, if they kept exploring tentatively, they might run up against the border of some bold starfaring race who had gobbled up all the best real estate. It wasn't hard to find others of a like mind for a really long voyage. This sequel to "Family Law" is the story of their incredible voyage.

Link to a full list of current releases on Amazon:

Including other books of the series, stand-alone books, and short stories.

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B004RZUOS2

Mac's Writing Blog:

http://www.mackeychandler.com

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