The Long View
Book 14 of the April series
Mackey Chandler
Cover by Sarah Hoyt
Title by Phil Stracchio
Chapter 1
The Executive Council met at the Hawaiian Prime Minister’s whim and invitation. Since Robert Hoku formed a government and replaced Tanaka, the meetings had been weekly and didn’t always include the full second tier of government. He just called those in need of briefing or from whom he needed a brief.
Nick Naito had been invited to a council meeting just once to discuss options about how to increase Hawaii’s trade. They needed more foreign exchange to maintain the infrastructure essential to the public’s expectations. There were so many things Hawaiians couldn’t produce themselves. The power and distribution systems were out of date and required repair supplies such as line and insulators, transformers, and switching mechanisms just to stay functional with no upgrades. The biggest help for the system was the drop in population the islands had suffered. They at least had excess baseline generating capacity due to that.
The phone and internet services were more up-to-date, but there was every expectation that they would need to be upgraded every few years. That had been the pattern in the past with a new generation of phones requiring different services every few years. The USNA providers walked away from their investments when North America set sanctions on Hawaii. There was no longer any legal way to maintain the system or transfer local payments to the parent company. A huge one-time write-off looked much simpler and attractive in comparison to attempting to keep them running. That was much more hazardous now that North America made evading their expanding list of sanctions a criminal felony and made examples of some of the executives who tried various workarounds.
Few wanted to nationalize utilities except a couple of diehard socialists, but there was little choice but to do so. They also had no other choice but to award their maintenance contract to a telecom from Australia who had already turned down buying the system outright. The company had experienced people with current skills running a similar system and owned a compatible parts inventory. No other interest materialized. Any promises to do more than run the current system, such as committing to future investment were conspicuously absent in the deal after the telecom nationalization.
Australia was also the only compatible source for lots of other goods, such as new ground cars and parts to service them. The same applied to restaurant equipment, medical supplies, and even such common household items as appliances. Construction and maintenance of buildings were captive to the sizes and standards of studding, wiring, and plumbing fixtures.
The cost of shipping from Australia added to the price of everything. That was bad enough, but the fact they were a captive market meant there was little reason to moderate prices. Australia had its own cyclic supply problems, and sometimes Hawaii would compete with Australia’s domestic market for things in short supply.
Surprisingly, there was little public complaint that rebelling from North America had imposed these hardships. Typically, someone voicing such a complaint would have others inquire if they were ready to go back to legally mandated long sleeves and long-pants for bathing costumes on Hawaii’s beaches.
When Nick was called to a second executive session, he expected there would be some further discussion of his proposals from the first meeting. Other third and fourth-rank officials had put forth other suggestions. Some of them Nick considered practical and had already voiced his support for them.
The head of Health and Welfare, for example, suggested making Hawaii a medical vacation destination. There was considerable hostility to restarting a tourist industry after the old pattern, but he proposed to attract a much smaller volume of visitors who individually would bring much more money to the islands. The only opposition to that was from the head of the Native Hawaiians Council, who termed all visitors invaders.
Most of the huge oceanfront hotels were already demolished, and public access to the beaches was written into law for any future use of the land. Three of the remaining structures were closed but owned by corporations not under North American sanctions and eager to unload their white elephants any way possible. They could be refurbished and several floors converted to medical use. They could be connected to new construction on the land side, which would house the medical facilities such as imaging and operating theaters too difficult to retrofit in the old buildings.
A key part of the proposal was to recruit top medical talent worldwide by exempting them from taxation until they retired. Who wouldn’t want to live in paradise tax free? Nick took the risk to speak up and endorsed that right after the other man spoke. He thought he had a firm ally from that action.
Naito’s proposals included making Hawaii a banking center with the sort of privacy laws that Switzerland used to enjoy but which had been slowly eroded by threats and strong-armed tactics from North America. Currently, only the Russian Republic and a few Caribbean islands offer any effective banking privacy.
Another suggestion Nick made was to make Hawaii a free port for trade with space. Not only as a pass-through for other Earth nations, but domestically. He realized that proposal was encroaching on the territory of Commerce somewhat, but he’d sent an abbreviated form of that proposal to the head of Commerce and never gotten a reply.
Nick was mentally reviewing all those proposals, how to defend them, and some other possible courses of action when Jeremy Boland, the head of the National police, waved for Prime Minister Kanoa’s attention. That was pretty gutsy to hijack the meeting before the PM had a chance to set the agenda, but perhaps he had some horrific criminal problem that was urgent. He listened with half an ear to him accuse a prominent official of being a foreign agent. He was waiting for him to finish up so they could get back to the business and trade side of things in which he was actively interested.
When Boland named Nick as the object of his accusations everything in his carefully crafted mental lineup was suddenly irrelevant. He struggled to make the switch mentally. Down the table, heads turned to him. Most expected him to object, perhaps even to leap to his feet and object vehemently. He knew his reaction would set the opinions of the majority and be very hard to overcome later but he was shocked dumbstruck. The wrong words would do more harm than silence. He did exactly the correct thing on pure political instinct. He allowed himself an amused smile. It was so unexpected Boland faltered in his presentation. It was an obvious invitation to go ahead – dig yourself deeper.
No pause could have been brief enough to go unnoticed by this group of revolutionaries and political operatives. If Boland had a longer accusation prepared, he ruined its presentation by naming Nick too early. He didn’t detail which foreign government, or the manner of his betrayal before his presentation was deflected. After the fatal pause, he stumbled awkwardly through an emotional statement of the seriousness of the charges without detailing them. The switch to a defensive tone would undo him.
Nick looked up-table at Kanoa and got a slow nod that he was free to reply. Nothing else would have served, as his intended agenda was destroyed until this was addressed.
“One hardly knows where to begin,” Nick admitted. But he already knew exactly the path forward to neutralize this.
“My office exists precisely to promote good trade relations with other countries to our mutual benefit. If I speak to how I’ve succeeded I may be indicting myself as acting on behalf of another country than the one you have in mind. Would Mr. Boland identify which of our trading partners I’ve benefited too well?”
“You know damn well which one,” Boland said. He was showing some temper which suited Nick just fine. “You conspired with the Spacers to actually bomb our island. Then you never came forward and admitted to it.”
“Oh, and how did that benefit them?” Nick asked. “Did it eliminate some competition to a Spacer business?”
Boland’s bewildered expression said the question didn’t make any sense to him.
“I mean, if I’m improperly an agent of the Spacers, I must have done something to their benefit and not ours. It must benefit me too somehow or I’ve risked my standing in our government for nothing. That would make me a sadly stupid, useless agent, wouldn’t it? So, what did I do that was not only to their benefit but also to our detriment?”
“You gave them the location of the Hopkins Tropical Disease Center to remove it. It was a vital service for our own people and one of the leading centers for fighting such diseases in the world. It was a jewel of cutting-edge technology we’ll never replace. We not only lost the irreplaceable data and samples but murdered somewhere around two dozen researchers and support personnel.”
“Were some of those support personnel your national police, Jeremy?” Nick asked in a much quieter voice.
“We were charged with guarding it. So yes, we know four of our officers were killed. The final count we’ll never know because they were vaporized. Other civilians were injured and property damaged although the site was deliberately remote and inaccessible,” Boland said.
“What about the ship, Jeremy? You’re not going to pretend the destruction of the lab is unrelated to the destruction of the cruise ship Crown Jewel, are you? Are you objecting to the destruction of the ship too?”
“The ship was not sovereign Hawaiian territory or Hawaiian officers doing their duty.”
“Oh, you do know what ship I’m talking about,” Nick said. “I’m going to play you a file off my pad of my video conversation with Jeffery Singh. I’m sure you remember him. He was the fellow who signed the treaty with North America for the Moon Queen.” It took Nick a moment to find it but nobody interrupted him.
“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 for 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 on. 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 rushing 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.
“That’s how eager Singh was to bombard either the ship or the lab,” Nick said. “He cursed me and abruptly terminated the conversation. I’m not entirely sure I haven’t squandered what goodwill I had with him or his people asking them to dirty their hands to correct Hawaii’s crime against humanity. I haven’t tried to call him again to know if he’ll even take a call from me after dumping this on him.
“I’m sure some of you here knew the story because Singh admitted to destroying the ship to a South African news outlet and the story was picked up elsewhere. I certainly make no apologies for saving a few billion lives. I’ll remind you some of them were going to be our own citizens. We’re remote but nowhere escapes a viral pandemic. If that’s a state secret it shouldn’t be. No crime of that scale should be hidden. Tanaka admitted his error and is in a self-imposed exile. So far nobody has been eager to track down every official and officer who helped him create such a monstrous weapon. The worst of those monsters were probably killed in the destruction of the laboratory.
“I suspected it was somebody from our intelligence community who carried that hemorrhagic fever onto the cruise ship but maybe I was wrong. If your officers were guarding the source of that evil, was it one of yours delivering it?”
All their heads turned when Nick paused to see if Boland would answer him. He sat there with a deer-in-the-headlights stare and no answer, so Nick spoke again.
“If this means you approved of destroying a third of humanity you need to resign and self-exile like Tanaka did. At least he had the sense to see he’d made a huge moral blunder. If you had a hand in this crime, can you at least assure us there aren’t any samples of this weapon that survived the destruction of the lab?”
“It wasn’t one of my officers on the Crown Jewel,” Boland said.
“Yes, but my veracity software is just shouting that you are evading and do know who it was,” Prime Minister Kanoa said.
“That isn’t admissible,” Boland replied. It wasn’t the right thing to say.
“This isn’t a court,” Kanoa said in a dangerously soft voice.
It wasn’t a question but the pause challenged Boland to answer and he couldn’t.
“Then who. . .” Naito started to ask him but Director Morton of intelligence cut him off.
“Wait. You’ll corrupt his response without a neutral baseline response for the software,” Morton warned him, and spoke first, looking at Boland.
“Was it the cute girl at the deli you told me about that took it aboard the ship?”
“I’m surprised you remember that story,” Boland told Morton.
“Was it someone from the Queen’s Medical Center,” Morton asked again.
Boland didn’t answer but he didn’t have to. The software in Morton’s spex could pick up changes in Boland’s breathing, pupil dilation, and even the pattern of skin temperature across his face. Speaking would just enrich the analysis beyond a yes or no.
“We could do better with drugs, a full cap, and a keyword list but go ahead and ask him now,” Morton invited Naito. “I think it will be a slam dunk when you have a hit.”
“OK, was it someone who worked for Intelligence who carried the disease aboard the cruise ship?” Naito asked.
Morton raised his eyebrows at Naito naming his agency first after he volunteered to help but admitted: “That upset him but the response is ambiguous.”
“Let me refine it,” Naito said. “Was it someone from Morton’s agency?”
Morton still didn’t like being targeted first but the response was much less intense which tended to exonerate him. It didn’t take him long to realize it was really to his benefit to be exonerated first.
“You’re good at this. I should hire you for an interrogator,” Morton decided after it went favorably for him.
“I don’t have to sit here for this,” Boland decided and put his hands on the table like he intended to rise.
“On the contrary. You will continue this informal session or be removed under arrest to a much more intense version with a full cap,” the PM said.
Boland dropped his hands in his lap and seemed to just shrink a little.
The Commerce Minister, Ka Thomas, who Naito wasn’t sure of as an ally, scribbled a note and slid it across the table to Nick. It said: “Inquire if it was a Hawaiian rights group. Boland was very cozy with them but there are at least six fairly large ones so I can’t be more specific.”
“Did someone from a native Hawaiian rights group carry the disease?” Nick asked.
“Bullseye!” the Prime Minister said. Indeed, Boland was so stressed he jerked. You didn’t need any software to see it. The wonder was he didn’t faint away.
“I don’t know the right questions to narrow it down to one group,” Naito said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Kanoa said. “We have people to do that. He has forfeited his liberty by at the very least collaborating with terrorists. It may be difficult to narrow down. Some of the smaller groups are at a family level, and I doubt we know all of them.”
They watched Boland arrested and removed by his own national police officers. Any discussion of the proposals such as Naito expected was forgotten today.
On the way out, Minister Ka spoke to Naito quietly.
“You handled yourself very well back there, young fellow. You turned the tables on him when he intended to destroy you and you did my agency a service by clearing us right away. However, you can be sure he wasn’t acting alone. Don’t count on Morton rounding them all up neat and easy. Just watch your six. The sort of people who wouldn’t mind killing a few billion innocents will snuff you out like crushing a cockroach.”
Naito had been feeling pretty good about his performance too, but that brought him back to reality.
* * *
“The news stories about the aboriginal aliens the North Americans found are insane,” Heather declared. “They can’t carry a lander yet, so they know almost nothing and are making up stories out of whole cloth. They’ve started calling them Elves on nothing more than they are slight and short from the satellite camera images of their shadows.”
“And this surprises you, why?” Jeff asked. “Look at the stuff they say about us. They can verify anything about us for the price of a shuttle ticket and don’t bother.”
“I suppose,” Heather allowed. “Maybe it’s a benefit they can say anything and there’s no way to check it. It may be years before they land and verify some of their theories. They are even arguing over whether they are people. They put up fences and grow crops. They have roads and build little villages if not cities. If you have to build skyscrapers and ocean liners to be people, what were we before we did that?”
“You don’t have to convince me,” Jeff said. “I wouldn’t even demand they use fire to consider them people. The reaction that bewilders me is the people demanding we arm up better because this shows there are threats out there. What threat? We can’t even image anything like bows and arrows or spears from orbit. You’d think they had nuked the Americans in orbit from some of the hysterical reactions.”
“They are misguided indeed if they think I’m going to change the L1 doctrine over anything I’ve seen so far,” Heather said.
April snorted derisively. “After all this fuss and unsupported conjecture, one hopes that since they labeled them Elves, they at least have pointy ears.”
* * *
“Don’t bother going any further upslope,” Vic said. “This last bucket was a waste of time. It didn’t have a single flake.”
“That was filled only a meter uphill from the last one,” Alice said.
“And the last one wasn’t that great,” Vic said. “Go back down to where you filled the bucket before that. I think we’ve found the upper limit where the rock face is weathering gold.”
“Come back with me and let’s see if there’s anything visible,” Alice suggested.
Eileen, seeing Vic go back up the slope with Alice, left off working the stream and followed them.
“What are you looking at?” Eileen inquired when they both stopped at the top of a line of small pits and peered up at the rock face.
“The dirt above here doesn’t seem to have any color at all,” Vic said. “We’re trying to see if there is a visible source.”
“I sure can’t see anything,” Alice admitted. “If you let yourself down from the top with ropes you could inspect it up close. Maybe chip away at any odd-looking spots with a hammer.”
“By ‘you’ I hope you don’t mean me,” Vic said. “I have no rock-climbing experience or any equipment. I’m not interested. Not even a little bit.”
“When we talked about hard rock mining, I never pictured a mine entrance a hundred meters up in the air where we’d have to go up or down to enter,” Eileen said.
“And if we build a ladder up there or dig down from the top it’s going to be a lot more visible to people that somebody is working the site,” Vic pointed out.
“OK, maybe we won’t be able to do that,” Alice said. “Let’s keep thinking about it and maybe one of us will get a brilliant idea. We’re doing OK working what’s weathered out.”
“Works for now,” Vic agreed and Eileen nodded her silent agreement.
* * *
“Aha! That’s how they did it,” Jeff called out. He didn’t usually get so excited reading technical material so April and Heather stopped their quiet conversation and looked at him.
“Do you remember the Constitution came back from Gliese 205 after enough of a delay that the Earth-Moon system had moved on in orbit and they had a long burn to catch up?”
“Yeah, I was worried they might not have enough reserves to get home,” April said.
“I thought they must have made some improvements to the drive,” Jeff said. “They did tweak the drive efficiency but they have another little cheat that’s ingenious. They have a combination of drugs and a cooling system that allows them to be put into a state of hibernation like some mammals use to survive winter. It cuts way down on consumables they need to carry and eases the burden on the environmental systems too.”
“So, they come out at Gliese 205, look around, decide where they want to go, and turn this system on to snooze while the ship goes there on auto-pilot?” April asked.
“Yes, that’s basically how it works,” Jeff agreed.
“Do you have any idea how long it takes to get into that state and back out?” April asked.
“No, this article was short on details,” Jeff said. “The North Americans developed it to hold troops ready in a staging area with reduced logistic requirements. I imagine the details are a military secret. But they saw it as a way to extend the range and time to loiter by reducing the need for supplies. It also helps the psychological stress of a long boring flight and they claim it mimics sleep so they come out of it rested and ready to work.”
“What do you want to bet the crew of the Constitution has cycled through this more than any other test subjects?” April said. “They are military so there is no such thing as an honest volunteer.”
“I’m hearing you have concerns,” Jeff said. “But I’m not sure exactly what.”
“Aside from not wanting to be a sleeping passenger in a strange star system while my ship is flown by an Artificial Stupid, I see it as a still-experimental medical procedure. I’d have to be desperate to do it myself. Even as happy as I am to have life extension, they did have some missteps in developing it. Sometimes the problems don’t show up for years.”
“Do you have some specific area you are concerned would be affected?” Jeff asked.
“No, I don’t know enough about it,” April admitted, “but you can be sure the next time I have a reason to chat with Jelly, I’m going to ask him what he thinks.”
Jeff considered that.
“He’s a vet, and this thing was developed from animal hibernation. It probably doesn’t involve altering genes or the North Americans would hate it. I’d like to hear what he says.”
“At least they aren’t freezing them,” Heather said. “That was a favorite way to explain how we’d go to the stars slower than light years ago.”
“But they’ve still never revived anything bigger than a cat,” Jeff said. “At least not without serious problems.”
“Imagine how long it would take to thaw someone if the computer decides it needs a human to deal with something,” Heather said.
“Nah. Microwave ‘em a couple of hours on low,” Jeff joked.
“In an insulating vessel like a big bun,” April said.
“You’d need some sort of media to moderate the heat transfer,” Heather said running with his theme, “perhaps a slurry like mustard.”
“Post an ad for research subjects to do that, with a decent enough cash payment, and you’ll get plenty of volunteers,” April predicted. “Then some damn fool will propose it just needs to be tried with sweet relish and ketchup to get some survivors.”
Jeff looked hurt at how easily they took over his attempt at humor and ran with it.
“Sometimes, I don’t think you two take science seriously,” Jeff said.
Chapter 2
Nick Naito looked at the pool below his balcony and was irritated with himself for how seldom he used it. He wasn’t even sure how many times he’d done so since becoming April’s caretaker. Likely less than a dozen times, if he was honest with himself. It was something he regarded as time stolen from more important things. As usual, he had a laundry list of things to research and people to call today. Enough of them were things he didn’t want to do, to push him over the edge to enjoy a rare morning swim.
He found the remote and opened the pool house about a meter so it wouldn’t heat up quickly from the rising sun. More than that slight opening he didn’t want to do. Maintaining it clean from debris blown in or dropped from the trees was a pain in the butt. Having a regular pool guy never entered his mind. Security considerations for April’s house would make contracting pool maintenance more trouble than just doing it himself.
Nick changed into swim trunks because he couldn’t take the chance of some demented paparazzi getting nude photos of him walking to the pool. Few would care in Hawaii but he represented his government to other parts of the world where that would be shameful or even criminal. Neither did Nick want to opaque the pool house glass to a mirror and swim in the semi-dark. He took his phone, a book he’d half read a week ago, and the remote to adjust the pool house if he needed to open it wider. There were towels and cold drinks in a little kiosk between chaise lounges inside the enclosure.
He sat his things on one lounger, and stood there picking a playlist of music to cast to the pool speakers. Just as he touched his choice he jerked in surprise and confusion because instead of music starting softly, there was a loud >Thwack!<. It took him a second to realize the noise had nothing to do with his touching the screen and was from directly behind him. When he turned the panel behind him was pushed in a cone toward him. The end of the cone was rounded rather than pointy because it became very rigid under impact. The surrounding area however was engineered to stretch when the forces on it were more lengthwise than perpendicular. The stretching absorbed the energy of the little coppery disc visible at the point of the cone. The stretched portion and most of the remaining flat portion of the panel turned milky white from the impact.
The first thing Nick did was grab his remote and get out from in front of the damaged panel. Another round capable of inflicting that much damage would probably come through where it was now weakened. The second thing he did was to start the pool house closing and set the undamaged panels to a mirror finish to the outside. He moved again after they changed and eased into the shallow end of the pool. The cover was now set to around three percent transmission but he didn’t want to bet his life the shooter couldn’t see his outline standing. Once those things were accomplished, he called Marion Morton, the head of Hawaii’s Intelligence Agency.
“Mort? Nick Naito here. I’m in kind of a bind at home and need some help.”
“Why are you whispering?” Morton asked. “You have invaders in the house? You could text instead if that’s a concern.”
“I guess because I’m scared. I’m in the pool house, not the main house. I closed and opaqued it after somebody tried to shoot me. If they come nosing around outside, determined to finish me off, the panels aren’t soundproof. They could hear me calling you for help.”
“You have a gun?” Morton asked.
“No, I didn’t think I needed one. Why are you playing blame the victim?” Nick asked.
“Because that was a dumb-assed move. I always have a gun. Even in the shower.”
“Could we discuss my preparedness later, and get a team to my place right now so I’m around to hash it out with you later?”
“Oh sure. I’m already typing out an order to get a ready response team in a couple of armored-up air cars to your place as soon as possible. That’s probably going to be ten minutes or more. They’ll sweep your area with sensors looking for the shooter. Can you tell me what direction the shot came from? It’ll help these guys. They aren’t going to land and rush out exposing themselves until they are satisfied it’s clear.”
“It came from the Nature Preserve down-slope of me,” Naito said. “Looking over at the damaged panel I see it’s distended up maybe ten degrees from the horizontal. It had to be a big damn gun too. These are Spacer panels and it’s stretched in about a half meter.”
“It wouldn’t be much use as body armor then, would it?” Morton said. “Be glad you weren’t right up against it or you’d have a bit of a bruise.”
“I’ll probably recount your humor with fondness in a year or two, if I’m alive.”
“I’m curious. Just in case you don’t make it, why did you call me instead of the police?” Morton asked. “It sounds like a criminal matter, not intelligence, to me.”
“I pretty well destroyed Boland’s career. I still don’t know what you guys have done with him. He just disappeared. Kanoa told me it was none of my business. Boland’s successor, Jennings, might not feel all warm and cozy about me. He might see me as a big enough danger to tell his boys to stop for a leisurely lunch on the way over. Then he wouldn’t ever need to worry I’ll do the same to him as his predecessor.”
“But you could as easily say that you gave him his promotion,” Morton objected.
“Yes, but he and Boland were best buddies,” Nick said. “They played golf and went fishing together. Boland was his rabbi from when he came out of the police academy and it goes back so far that their fathers were thick with each other. Why am I explaining this to the head of Intelligence? Don’t you keep folios on government ministers to watch for traitors and criminals? You should know all that background stuff.”
“It's a fine line we have to walk spying on our government,” Morton said. “You have to control the non-criminal information gathered, or somebody will use it for political leverage or blackmail. There are plenty of perfectly legal actions and activities that will still destroy your political career. My information on you is that you are such a goody-two-shoes you can’t imagine some of the things your peers do that are selfish, foolish, and perfectly legal.”
“I just heard something buzz by that doesn’t sound like an aircar,” Nick said. “Are your boys flying something else?”
“That’s them. They turn off the noise cancellation to get a little extra speed. You can figure one car will orbit your property leaving it loud like that and the other will go quiet and do a search over the Nature Preserve. You should be safe now. Do you want to give me a signal for them for when they land to safely extract you and escort you to the house?”
“Tell them to rap on the pool house with a shave-and-a-haircut cadence and I’ll open the pool enclosure,” Nick requested. It took Morton longer than expected.
“Kids,” Morton said, disgusted. “I had to sing it and then sound it out for him without any lyrics and he said, ‘Oh, that has a name?’ Should I have him leave you a weapon?”
“No, I’m well equipped. I just didn’t think to bring anything to the pool.”
Morton made a rude sound. It was barely audible, so it might not have been meant as a message to Nick, but he was disgusted.
“They can’t find anybody. Either he departed very quickly or he’s down a hole with a heat-reflective screen above him. I’ll put a high-altitude drone on the area watching for another three days in case he did that and comes out later. My man will collect the bullet if you don’t mind. We might learn something from that. Will you please not take any chances in case he decides to come back and try to finish the job?”
“I’m going to go into town and stay in a safe house for the next week,” Nick decided. “Would you please tell your fellows not to collect any of the panel? It’s proprietary Spacer tech and they’ll be peeved with me if I allow samples.”
“You’ll trust me on that?” Morton asked him.
“Shouldn’t I?” Nick asked.
“I guess I better treat a Trade Minister well who even knows what a safe house is.”
“I was a revolutionary not long ago,” Nick reminded him.
“My guy is outside talking to me. Do you still want him to rap?” Morton asked.
“Yeah, consider it training. We’ll see if he gets it right.”
“I could hear it over your phone,” Morton said. “He really smacked it.”
“I’m opening up. Thanks for saving my butt.”
“Your assassin was probably a couple of kilometers away in an aircar or light flyer by the time you called me,” Morton suggested.
“I have no idea why anybody would want to assassinate me,” Nick said.
“There’s having a clean conscience, but that’s just being oblivious,” Morton accused him. “Anybody damaged by Boland going down might want to remove you. But if a pro fails, he won’t stick around trying to fix it when he should be fleeing.”
“Maybe, but it might have been a determined amateur. I’d have stayed holed up until I got somebody out here to make sure,” Nick said, “or crawled to the house in the middle of the night.”
“My guys are two each in four-seat aircars,” Morton said. “Do you want them to give you a lift into town?”
“No, I’d have to hire or beg a ride back later. I’ll go right now while I know it’s clear.”
“I’m telling my man to inspect your car before he leaves. Is it parked in the open? Does it have a remote start on the key fob?”
“Yeah, but I use the app on my phone instead that calls the car’s cellular. It’s supposedly one of those that can’t be intercepted. Why?” Nick wondered.
“If I was doing this hit on you, I’d want a backup in case my shot went bad. Boobytrapping your car seems like an easy way to do that.”
“I’ll step out and try it.”
“No,” Morton said quickly. “I’ll have my man step in with you and try it. If it goes boom the pool house will shelter you from flying debris.”
The agent stepped around the edge of the now-open enclosure and nodded at Nick.
When he used the app on his phone, they heard the starter engage but the exhaust was too quiet to hear. Nick used the app to make the horn honk and declared to Morton that they were golden.
“OK, you owe me one,” Morton declared. “Try to stay alive for me to collect the favor. Watch your six, damn it.”
“Somebody else told me that too,” Nick remembered.
* * *
“Our crew was surveying an interesting system with the Prospector,” Heather said. “The oddity of the system is it’s a brown dwarf star that has lots of gas giants with an unbelievable number of moons. They went along sampling them for content by vaporizing a few spots on each with a laser to read the emission spectrum. They were aware we have a shortage of copper, so when they found a rock with a huge mass of metallic copper they decided to load up as much of the loose surface deposits as the Prospector could hold and bring it back to process.”
“I take it that it was too big to grab in the ship’s field and drag the whole thing back home?” Jeff said.
“Far too large. A shipload will yield two hundred tons and will just put a flea bite on the ore body,” Heather assured him. “It’s big enough to have some surface gravity. They can return with a front loader and some explosives. They’ll break up and sort the matrix of rock and metal so we don’t haul back as much rock as in this first sample. They can scoop and load the metal in the light gravity, if the operator has a light hand and a little patience. We’ll get two or three more loads and that will supply us with copper for at least the next couple of years.”
“Are you going to mark it as owned and put a radio beacon on it?” April asked Heather.
“No, it’s pretty deep and I’d rather not announce to anyone we were there. We may find other sources and never need to return. The crew assures me they have enough data on its movements that they can find it again without a claim marker.”
“It may be a long time before the Earthies are confident enough of their numbers to jump into a brown dwarf system,” Jeff informed them. “They are low-mass bodies and you need a lot more velocity to get safe transition odds with their drives.”
“Good. We’re going to have our people investigate a few other brown dwarfs,” Heather said. “If they are rich in metals like this one it will be to our advantage to know first and be able to cherry-pick the very best.”
“Go beyond not leaving a claim marker,” April suggested. “Tell them to clean up after themselves and not leave any trash or broken parts behind to identify us.”
“It’ll be a long time before any Earthies get out that far and can safely jump into a brown dwarf system,” Jeff said.
“I wasn’t necessarily thinking about other humans,” April told him.
* * *
Nick went back to the apartment he shared with friends during the revolution. It served him as a safe house, though Morton would probably regard it as unworthy of the name. One of the friends had moved to a different job and island. Finding a new roomie who didn’t mind an occasional visitor who picked up a full third of the rent wasn’t difficult. Nick rarely stayed there now that they’d won their revolution, and he had little need to hide and skulk about. He still paid his share in cash, just in case he needed a place, like now.
There wasn’t a garage at the apartments and parking spaces were first come, first served. If there wasn’t anything open you had to find street parking and that wasn’t easy either. Aware of what a security weakness that was and mindful of exposing Diana’s car to vandalism or theft, Nick bit the bullet and hired a driver to pick him up, drop him off, and keep the car at his residence away from the apartment. Given the scarcity of jobs, that wasn’t very expensive. Diana’s habit of naming her cars suggested a deep emotional attachment to them. Nick didn’t want anything to happen to Fancy Dan. Diana was already mourning the loss of Floyd, a much older and less likable compact.
Nick called his driver, Darius, and informed him he was walking to a nearby working man’s restaurant. If he wanted breakfast, he should meet him there. It seemed a fair little perk given how cheaply the man was working for him, even if it was off the books. It was terrible from a security standpoint to establish a pattern of eating there every morning but he got away with it.
His driver didn’t seem broken up when Nick informed him today was his last day. Nick checked his home security system and cameras every day. Nothing untoward seemed to be happening at the house. He slowly felt safe to return after a couple of weeks. It even occurred to him it might have simply been a stray shot from a poacher. He could almost convince himself of that if the shot hadn’t been dead on target.
Fancy Dan went by slowly with Darius driving, looking for a parking spot before he made it inside the diner. He went ahead and ordered two of the specials as was their habit. Spam, eggs, a fruit bowl, and fry bread. Darius didn’t drink coffee and Nick never asked him why. He didn’t give Nick a hard time about his coffee habit so it wasn’t any of his business.
“Thanks for the gig and for breakfast,” Darius said. “Call me any time.”
“Can I drop you off anywhere before I go up the hill home?” Nick asked.
“No thanks. I’m going to go over to the Farmer’s Market and see who needs day labor. It will do me good to cut cane or do weeding. If I kept working your job for long, I was going to get soft and fat.”
That was hard to imagine. Darius was hard and lean. At least he was kind enough not to tell Nick, “Like you.”
Nick abandoned his groceries at the apartment and told the other fellows to use them up. He got a few fresh things to take up the hill, like coffee cream.
The climb back was a pretty drive. He locked it in third gear and set the cruise control at fifty-two kilometers an hour. He’d tried a range of speeds and that seemed to get him the best mileage to climb the hill home. It was also slow enough to make all the curves safely without kicking it out of cruise. He lowered all the windows, put on some music, and leaned back relaxed, steering with one hand at the top of the wheel.
As he was going along a straight section, a suicidal bird launched itself from the trees to glide across the road and seemed oblivious to his approach. He had the road to himself and jerked the wheel over hard left reflexively. The idiot bird tried to swerve away far too late, showing its white belly just before impacting his windshield There was no other traffic and nothing visible to run into but the bird, yet there was a deafening crash and the world spun around throwing him hard right against his belts as if he’d run into a concrete wall, not a bird.
When all the motion stopped, he was hanging upside down looking at the edge of his hood jammed into the graded road surface. Impossibly, the windshield wasn’t cracked but had a few gray and white feathers clinging to it. The passenger seat beside him had dangling shreds of foam and leather with an impossibly large hole through the seat and the belly pan allowing sunlight to stream in. There were bits of foam blown all over the interior and a heavy chemical odor. The dash screen informed him the traffic cam was frozen and locked due to a collision, but with what? It didn’t make any sense at all.
Nick braced himself against the dash with both feet and got a hand on the roof below him before he released his belt. He didn’t want to fall on his head or break his neck. The car communicator didn’t ask him if he needed help. That wasn’t surprising because the roof antenna was now jammed into the dirt road now, if it wasn’t scraped off.
He managed to get down and crawl out the open window without injury but sat stunned, moving everything cautiously, and didn’t try to stand up. The car was tilted towards him and there was a short groove gouged in the road where it slid to a halt. Nick could see a crater in the road about fifteen meters behind, not that far right from the center of the road. The space from one to the other indicated the car was airborne briefly and had rolled over in the air. It took a few minutes in his rattled condition to connect the pieces of what he was looking at and realize somebody had deliberately tried to blow him up. If he hadn’t jerked away from the bird the bomb would have gone off under the driver’s seat. If anyone was watching to set it off manually, they’d have seen he was now exposed and defenseless, so it must have been set up to sense his car. How they’d do that he had no idea, but he knew who would. He got his phone out and made a call.
“Morton my man, I was watching my six but they came from my twelve today.”
“You’re still alive, so I’m going to change my mind. They must not be professionals to have failed to kill you twice. That’s unforgivably sloppy.”
“They were good enough to blow my car up. If I hadn’t swerved a meter to the left, they’d have blown me straight through the roof,” Nick told him.
“Aha! They probably had a little transmitter stuck on the bottom of your car. It would detonate as soon as the signal peaked and started to drop off. Do you have emergency services coming? Did your car make an automatic call?”
“I don’t think it can do that sitting upside down on top of the antenna,” Nick said.
“Some of the luxury cars can,” Morton said. “They have a second flat antenna on the bottom just in case that happens.”
“Well, Fancy Dan isn’t fancy enough to have that or the dash screen would have shown more than the cam being locked. It would have connected me to emergency services.”
“Did you, uh, hit your head? I see you are still sitting down.”
“No, I’m perfectly lucid. Excuse me. This is Diana’s car. She’s one of those people who give them names. And boy is she going to be pissed with me that I got it blown up.”
“Oh, a harmless eccentricity,” Morton said relieved Nick wasn’t addled from the impact. “After all, we name boats and spaceships and think nothing odd about it. Since it isn’t a public matter yet, how would you like to quietly have the wreck removed and not report it? If the people who think they killed you aren’t aware they failed again it might slow them down in correcting their error.”
“That might benefit me but I doubt Ms. Hunter would appreciate writing off the value of an almost new car and not allowing her insurance to reimburse her.”
“Deliberate acts and terrorism may be excluded. But we can put some pressure on them and quietly inform her insurance that the matter should not be made public for national security,” Morton offered.
“You can do that?” Nick asked. “That would be terrific.”
“If they object, I’ll have the representative who is on the committee overseeing the insurance industry have a little talk with them,” Morton said. “Considering what they ask me to pay for auto coverage, it wouldn’t bother me at all to turn the screws down on them.”
“I hate to ask, but can you send a couple of your guys to escort me to the house? I think I need to clear my stuff out and inform Miss Lewis I’m now a liability as a caretaker. I have kept a couple of alternatives ready to give the keys and codes if the need arose. Then I have to decide what I’m going to do.”
“You intimated you had a safe house. I take it that is not a permanent solution?”
“No, and I’m rethinking everything. I was willing to take risks for the revolution, but I suspect this is a subset of my fellow revolutionaries trying to kill me. I’m just glad it wasn’t any of the very few who knew of my safe house. I’m not willing to die for senseless infighting among factions after we won our independence. I don’t think anybody is going to vote to provide protective services for a third-tier bureaucrat like me. Even if they would, it isn’t attractive to consider living like that, behind security, permanently.”
“Assuredly not,” Morton agreed, who did live like that. “So, what? Will you resign?”
“Yes, but I’m not sure that will be enough to make me safe. I don’t know what I’d want to do here if I can’t keep working to shape the new Hawaii.”
“You could buy a big grill and sell huli huli chicken out on the street,” Morton suggested. “I don’t think anybody has ever gone broke doing that. There isn’t anyone doing that within walking distance of my office if you need a spot. You’d have my custom.”
“I thank you for your vote on my business acumen, but after I turn in my resignation I may accept an invitation I had extended to move to Home.”
“If I dispose of your wreck and help you remove to the heavens, would you consider being our eyes and ears on Home? We have no intelligence resources there and what is happening on Home is increasingly important to us just like other Earth nations. You can serve yourself, and still aid Hawaii somewhat. Fleeing after the attempts on your life is a perfect cover. I can see that you get a small monthly stipend for reporting the direction of the public mood and of anyone there you consider important. I understand it’s quite expensive to live there so every little bit of income will be helpful. I’ll match your present pay grade and increase it if the rate increases.”
“I could, but I’m not trained in spy craft,” Nick admitted.
“No need for dead drops and things, like in a spy novel,” Morton said. “Just send a chatty text to your old buddy, Morton, every week or two at a dedicated number. I’ll send back the local gossip and family news so it all looks like a perfectly normal back and forth between old friends.”
“I could do that. You’ve got a deal,” Nick decided.
“Do you need help or a van to collect your stuff?” Morton asked.
“No, everything I value can be tossed in a couple of duffle bags.”
“Fine, the tow truck is about halfway up the hill and there’s a car with a couple of my agents following it. I’ll call them now and have them take you by your house first instead of back down the hill. They’ll bring you back to me and I’ll see you put up in a hotel until you can be safely escorted to a shuttle.”
* * *
At Sunday dinner Tommy told them all the mail kiosks they’d received were installed. The Texans felt it was sufficient coverage to have a local vote both by mail or alternatively by registering and voting at the fall festival. The Texans had relented on only using the centralized mailboxes or attendance at the fair to vote. They would issue a bright lime green marker for your road side mailbox when you registered to vote. Those ballots would be picked up by the Ranger’s road patrol but no other ordinary mail. They were aiming at inspecting every county road once a month, so they would be slow to gather all the votes.
It amused Vic how quickly Tommy took his job for granted and became protective of it. His tone said he didn’t like the Rangers dealing with the mail instead of expanding the postal system. Presumably, more mail carriers would be under him and increase his authority and perhaps his wage scale. The fact that would duplicate the expense of the existing road patrol didn’t seem to matter to him. Maybe when Texas declared their area acclimated and started collecting taxes again, he’d worry about efficiencies. Maybe not. It worried Vic how easily he slipped into bureaucratic thinking.
After Tommy left, Alice asked, “Are you and Eileen going to register and vote at the festival?” Alice asked.
“Yes, there isn’t a big enough cluster of homes around us to get a mail kiosk anywhere nearby,” Vic said. “I think that irritated Tommy too.”
“He does seem a lot grouchier since he got this job,” Alice said.
“It’s nice to see civilization coming back bit by bit, but it does make life more complicated,” Vic said. That politely didn’t directly address Tommy’s attitude.
“I have more than a year before I can vote,” Alice said. Vic wasn’t sure why she was bringing that up but she seemed to be considering it very thoughtfully.
“Or buy alcohol, drive a car, sign contracts, or work full time by Texan law,” Vic reminded her. “I doubt they will enforce any of that before it’s no longer a concern to you. Nobody is going to ask you for a business license to sell at the fair.”
“Were you thinking that you can’t get married?” Eileen asked. Alice had made clear she had specific plans that way even if Titus was completely unaware.
“No, no. I expect to be eighteen before that’s a possibility too.” She never revealed her real concern, if she had one.
“There’s supposed to be a lot more outsiders at this fair,” Alice reminded them. “When you get money would you please get me five hundred Texan dollars against my gold shares? If there’s something neat that I want, I like to have the cash to get it.”
“Sure. That’s a good feeling to have some money in your pocket you’re free to spend,”
Vic said. “I’ll get you a mix of bills so it isn’t hard for the sellers to make change.”
Vic privately told Eileen the winners would already be decided before the votes from the marked mail boxes were all brought in. “I suppose it makes them feel better,” he allowed.
* * *
Eddie Persico asked to meet April for breakfast and to talk. That embarrassed her. She tried to remember when she’d last spoken with him and it had to be at least three years. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Eddie. She liked him just fine, and he was a political ally, but they had never developed a social relationship. The fact was that their business relationship ran so smoothly they didn’t need to interact to constantly straighten things out. The last time she’d met him for breakfast was clear back when she’d gone down to Earth to try to remind the North Americans they had a treaty to live up to. She still felt that the trip was only marginally successful. It left her wondering what he could want to discuss. It might be good to find out what was going on with Eddie before she met him. Her intelligence people would know.
“Chen? I agreed to meet Eddie for breakfast so we could talk but I feel like I’m flying blind. I’m not sure how Eddie is doing or even how his campaign to convert Earth assets to safer holdings went for him. Can you give me a concise summary so I know what I am talking about? I know he has run the courier and freight business just fine, because the payments come in regularly. The reports are from his people. I don’t think he actively runs it now any more than I do. It’s been ages since I’ve been called to pilot a run off the standby list. Do you track him, or can you offer a thumbnail sketch later today?”
Chen looked thoughtful and perhaps a little amused which worried April.
“We absolutely do track the principal movers of our economy. As you intimated, the lack of any bad news or drama in the orbit-to-orbit freight and courier business is because he’s maintained a solid business advantage for his ships. Your drive technology has played a reduced role in that as other propulsion systems have become more efficient. It is still competitive and requires none of the new investment other drive solutions required. He’s refrained from the trap of over-expanding so many fall into. When there are economic lulls, they hit the over levered competition harder than him. It’s just a very stable situation in a mature industry. As long as we have the three habs and their relationship to the Moon and Earth the same as now, without any significant activity from the outer planets or interstellar flights, it will stay that way. Everybody expects exploration to open up extra-Solar resources but there is no hard timetable for that. I’m not sure but what that might increase the volume of local business and make transfers in the Earth-Moon system more profitable, not less.”
“OK, so I shouldn’t expect him to want any big changes in our mutual business,” April concluded. “I wanted a heads up if he might be unhappy with me.”
Chen looked at April and paused considering what to say.
“Eddie Persico has very little reason to be unhappy with you or with his other business interests,” Chen assured her. “I know you don’t follow the gossip boards but off Earth, Eddie probably is third in total worth behind you three and well ahead of Mr. Muños, Dave, or any other individual on Home. Your mutual courier services are now a very minor part of his worth.”
“What’s he into now?” April asked. “Did he ever get his money off Earth? That’s the last thing I remember him working on back when I asked him to help Heather with her Moon venture.”
“Eddie has larger Earth holdings now than then,” Chen assured her. “I’d characterize it as having reached such a critical mass it grows faster than there are any reasonable ways to remove the wealth from Earth. His total worth may go up or down billions of dollars with whether the economy is expanding or contracting at the moment but it’s diversified so widely that it isn’t going to just evaporate on a downturn.
“He shuffled his holding to different countries early on as well as pulling what he could off Earth, so he avoided a lot of the economic woes that befell China and North America. He has a very decent portfolio of Australian and Indian stocks and securities from doing that. Eddie also was treated very well by Heather, and has a nice collection of Central properties. You do know he invested heavily in the building of Beta, and Gamma now?” Chen asked.
“No, I’ve neglected to follow what he’s been doing,” April admitted. “I feel bad because Eddie has always treated me well and he is important to me. We are comrades at arms. I’ve just been so busy myself with other things I ignored him.”
“I wouldn’t worry he has any grievance to air with you,” Chen assured her. “Rather I’d expect he has some new mutual undertaking to suggest. I don’t see anything among your businesses that might conflict with each other.”
“OK, I’ll try to stop worrying,” April decided. “If Eddie has something new to propose, one thing I can be sure of is that he’ll present it straight forward.”
“Indeed, Eddie has a reputation in the business community of coming straight to the point with little time wasted on social graces second only to your Jeff.”
“I never thought to compare them. I see their differences before their similarities, but I can see where they’d both strike people that way.”
Chapter 3
When they arrived at the fall fair, Vic and Eileen didn’t argue when Alice told them she’d wander around on her own. Vic just nodded and reminded her not to go off on the fringes where there weren’t many people. She was visibly armed with a pistol stuck in her waistband, which was a deterrent to anybody with any sense.
There were easily three times as many people at the fair as last year. Alice wasn’t used to crowds now and it made her nervous to be hemmed in by mostly taller people. There were booths like previous fairs but they tended to be bigger and a lot fancier. The smarter booth owners had signs posted high enough to be seen over the crowds. Mr. Mast provided a big whiteboard at the road with a map of the rental spaces. You could write your name in your space on the map so people could find you. It included a traditional “You are here” marker. Alice wondered if that was something in storage from before The Day or made new.
The Texans had several double sites, rather than make people visit their compound across the road. There was a separate booth offering Texas State ID cards since very few people had any need for a driver’s license. The booth to acquire citizenship and vote was busy even though they had three people serving the public. Several youths were talking to a pair of military recruiters, and the county had a recruiter for public service jobs.
There were outside vendors for the first time, not just from outside the county but from out of state. A bus service had a big sign announcing they would have a weekly mini-bus service to Reno from the fair site, starting when roads were passable in the spring.
One outsider was selling electronics. He had cell and satellite phones, walkie-talkies at a hefty markup, and tablets. A separate salesperson was pushing home schooling supplies and services that worked with the electronics. The big attraction there was a free telephone in a small privacy booth on which you were invited to call anywhere in the world. It timed out at five minutes, giving you a countdown warning for the last thirty seconds. There was a long line for that, winding around the booth with the end out of sight. Their satellite connection allowed them to take credit cards, and they had a Texas Lotto machine by the sales register.
A gun dealer had a booth with chicken wire around the outside so everything was visible but only a short sales counter to deal with one customer at a time. They had a Texas lotto terminal, just like the electronics guys. The ammunition prices were about four times what Vic’s satellite phone had informed them to be normal in Texas proper. The actual weapons were closer to double the price back in civilization. The prices were high enough that there was no line. As Alice watched a man bought a box of twenty rifle rounds after the dealer refused to split it and sell him ten. He bought it but he didn’t look happy. Alice figured he’d go to the open trading area and sell the half he didn’t want. She thought the dealer was foolish. He should have offered a half box at a slight markup. He had six dollars change coming but waved it away and said: “Give me six tickets on the big Lone Star lotto.” He stuffed the lotto tickets in his shirt pocket and left.
There wasn’t another customer waiting so Alice stepped up to check out the pistols in the glass case. She owned a couple of other pistols than the one stuck in her belt and hoped to get some idea of what the merchant thought they were worth.
“Time to upgrade to a heavier pistol for self-protection?” the merchant suggested.
“I have a nine-millimeter at home but this fits my hand,” Alice told him patting the grips of her little revolver. “I’ve killed three men with a little .22 so I’m not seeing any need to change what’s working.”
“It beats the heavier one that you left at home because it was a pain to carry,” he agreed. “Can I sell you some ammo for that?” he offered. He didn’t comment on her statement.
“I’m not looking for more at your prices, but wanted to see what you think similar guns are worth. The only thing I want is an optic for my Cricket like my friends have on their big rifles. Sad to say it has no rail to mount it.”
“Now there I can help you,” the dealer said. “They make a rail kit that uses the tapped holes you already have. I’d have to send it to you though. I didn’t bring any of that kind of little stuff. I have a few dot sights I can sell you now if you can mount them yourself later.”
“I’ll buy that if you knock a little off the double price you have on everything,” Alice said. “Otherwise, I’ll let my friend I’m living with order it with his satellite phone.”
“For you…” the dealer said with an exaggerated joking voice. “A hundred seventy-five for the rail kit. That’s about twenty over the Dallas price. I’ll need to box and mail it. I’ve got a nice Chinese red dot for a hundred bucks or a red-green Japanese sight for two-thirty.” He laid both on a soft pad on the countertop.
“I’ll take the red-green,” Alice said after looking through them. “The dot is smaller. Send the rail to our post office general delivery for Alice Price.” She counted out the money on the counter and looked at the lotto machine. It scrolled a message saying the Lone Star payout stood at six hundred and two million dollars. That would continue to rise for a week.
“Gimme the change in Lone Star tickets,” Alice demanded like the fellow before her. He put the sight in its box and punched her order in his point-of-sale machine. The lotto machine extruded tickets for her to pull and the owner scooped up her money.
“Nice doing business with you,” he said, but was looking past her already and waving his next customer to come forward. Alice figured he wouldn’t be back for the spring fair. Improving outside supply would kill his ability to ask such high prices by then.
* * *
“When you asked to meet over breakfast, I realized how long it’s been since we sat face to face,” April admitted. “I’m afraid I don’t have many friends with whom I simply socialize. I’m sure plenty of people would tell me that’s unhealthy. The trouble is there don’t seem to be enough hours in the day to get everything done that seems important. The only saving grace is that I like almost everybody with whom I do business. If you want to see me more often, you’ll have to stop running everything so efficiently,” April teased. “We simply never have any problems to meet and iron out.”
Eddie looked surprised and then a big amused smile spread across his face.
“I’m in pretty much the same situation. I’ve had to learn to delegate, but I’ve never really been happy that I can’t manage everything myself. So, business just fills my day.
“My problem is that people keep trying to attach themselves to me socially to give themselves leverage with me in business. I could go to a different dinner or party every night and I’m constantly turning down solo invitations to date. I’ve had proposals of marriage based on the business advantages of such an alliance or less formal relationships. It frankly gets to be wearisome. Especially when people take a polite refusal personally. It’s kind of funny, because you are one of the few people who could invite me to a party and it would never cross my mind you had ulterior motives. But you are too busy to party and socialize just like me.”
“Perhaps you are more attractive than you realize,” April suggested. “I asked our chief intelligence person for an update on you before we met. He let me know you’ve been even more successful in managing your windfall fortune than I imagined. I’m probably wealthier than you if we dug into the numbers deep enough to be sure, but after a point it doesn’t change how we live. Yet I don’t get that constant barrage of offers and invitations.”
“Were you worried I was using a breakfast date to sneak in a business proposal?”
April looked confused by the question.
“I never thought of it as a date. I’m rather fond of you and we’re comrades at arms, but there has never been that romantic ‘spark’ there for me. I was more worried I’d done something to offend you and you wanted to tell me in a nice neutral setting. So, just the opposite. I thought you might be using a business meeting to air a social grievance.”
“You probably don’t know anybody else tactless enough to tell you this, so I will. People who have no idea what the boundaries of your relationship with Heather and Jeff are won’t risk approaching you. They wonder, should they invite one or all? If two, which two? If it should be all, who manages your social things to receive the invitation?
“Approaching you for business is almost as complex. You have such a jumble of shared and private enterprises. Somebody should do a Venn of them. I’m single, and not visibly dating. They find it much simpler to express their feelings to me but the truth of that is often that they find so much money terribly attractive. That it’s attached to me is a minor inconvenience they can tolerate.”
“That’s horrible!” April said. “What shallow thinking. I’m tempted to classify it as another aspect of Earth Think. My relationship with Jeff and Heather seems simple from the inside. I don’t think it’s anybody’s business how we relate to each other, any more than it’s anyone’s business how a couple gets along. How could a person live with themselves to feel that way about money?”
“I agree,” Eddie said making a placating gesture, “but people make all kinds of assumptions about how a couple live. Most people are half of a couple and it’s easy to assume everybody else is just like them. They need to stop and think about you three. It’s an unaccustomed task and probably hurts their head. They don’t even know what to call you. I’ve heard triad, throuple, and ménage à trois. Triad has an unfortunate political history, throuple just sounds like they are trying to be excessively with-it and modern, and ménage à trois is the opposite. It sounds old-fashioned and Gallic.
“If you ever decide to host a social event, you can give them some guidance in the invitations. It would be a mercy. As far as being attracted to wealth, people can rationalize and convince themselves they have the loftiest of motives. They are doing it to support their aged mother or hoping to direct some of that obscene wealth to charities. Failing that, they can convince themselves that if they are behaving badly the object of their avarice is even worse, so that makes it OK.”
“Jeff looks to us to understand social things,” April revealed, “but sometimes I wonder if I have any understanding to offer when I hear something like this.”
Eddie just nodded sympathetically. April hadn’t asked a question.
“Why did you pick a breakfast meeting?” April finally asked.
“I simply remembered you loved any excuse to arrange breakfast meetings years ago and thought the trait might persist. You seem to remember how to eat and listen at the same time,” he said nodding at her empty tray.
“It is nice, though I do it much less often. The side conversations are much less scripted over a meal. It’s always more relaxed than a formal business meeting. I’ll think about what you said about us confusing people and the fact we never party. But tell me. Do you have a business proposal for me today?” April invited.
“I have a request about how to proceed. I imagine you will have to take my question back to your partners. Our courier business grew out of your superior drive technology for orbit-to-orbit ships. Once again, I see you have superior drive tech for interstellar travel. What do I have to do to ally myself with you three for exploring the stars? If there is any sort of buy-in to be had I’ll raise the funds. If it takes an active role, I can’t imagine a better use of my time.”
April grimaced so Eddie knew something bad was coming.
“Oh, this hurts to say, but it’s much harder than a simple buy-in. I don’t have to consult. We discussed it at length and agreed that only those sworn to Heather as their sovereign would have access to own or command our starships,” April told him. “We don’t feel limiting the licensing to other spacers is sufficient to keep it out of the Earthies’ hands “
Eddie looked shocked. “That’s going to severely limit how many ships you can field.”
“We’re going for quality over quantity. In any case, we could make numbers a priority and never come near the number of ships Earth will be able to field. We’re exploring distantly enough to have the first choice of real estate, and expect where we colonize to not be discovered by other humans very soon. By the time they catch up and find us, we expect to be able to declare entire star systems private property and enforce it,” April said.
“Then you don’t expect to use the claims organization you suggested in the Singh-Love Treaty and Heather mandated in some detail later? That seems contradictory.”
“I can see how you’d feel that way,” April admitted. “The organization that seems to be emerging from all their talks seems to be more about how to grab most of the value of any discoveries and redistribute them. It doesn’t resemble what Jeff or Love envisioned at all.
“Instead of a reasonable fee for its protection, it appears the explorers will get a pittance of their find’s real worth. We are imposing rules on them because we can. Don’t expect us to limit ourselves to the same rules in some misguided display of fairness. Fairness is a public relations meme that we don’t need. We’ve been demonized with the Earth public more than we could ever try to counter.”
“They are also ignoring anything about your extra-solar flights in the Earth news. The public hears about the North American and French ships but if you stopped a man in the street at random, he likely wouldn’t know Central has starships.”
“It simply doesn’t matter what they believe,” April said. “I think they are suppressing that news, hoping to catch up and look more like our equals later.”
“You better have contingency plans for what to do if they do succeed and your advantage disappears, or even worse, reverses,” Eddie warned.
“I’ve been the chief architect of those plans at Heather’s orders,” April assured him.
Eddie sat and scowled, thinking. April let him work it all out. She was just as glad he didn’t ask for details about those contingencies. He’d be horrified.
“I should have sworn to Heather when we were working closely with each other to set up Central,” Eddie decided. “I think she’d have welcomed it then. I missed the opportunity. Now, our business dealings happen without needing personal attention, just like what has happened between us. I have no idea what service or thing of value I could offer her now to ask to be sworn. I have far too much to manage to move to Central and try to find some way to be indispensable to her. You know, it just seemed like a real estate venture then. Now the political implications override the business side of it.”
“Without the political side of it, the Earthies would have stolen everything on the Moon and taken control of the Rock and M3 long ago,” April said. “They are no respecters of business or their own laws, if they see too much wealth sitting outside their control.”
“True that. It’s been interesting retaining my wealth on Earth. I’ve only kept it by playing the interests of one Earth government against another.”
“I’ll mention your interest to Heather and Jeff,” April promised. “Who knows? Things change. Maybe we will see some path to bringing in full allies someday.”
“Maybe the Earthies intend to bleed off so much of these claims to keep the new worlds from seeking independence like the habitats and Moon colonies did,” Eddie speculated.
“I never thought to credit them with thinking that far ahead,” April said. “But there might be a mind down there working behind the scenes with that sort of vision. Tell me. If you can’t work with us to explore, what will you do?”
“That leaves the Earth nations and whatever claims scheme they hammer out as the only other game in town,” Eddie said. “They may demand a bigger cut to play but the potential rewards are still too great to ignore. I’ll play by Heather’s rules on armament and file any finds with the Earth commission. If I can’t afford a starship, I’ll find a few other spacers to be my partners in building and sending one out. It’s not going to happen right away. They are still struggling to improve things to where a starship is practical. We may even wait until the first rush to build is over and used equipment becomes available. There are always early adapters who don’t plan well financially or count on making a well-paying claim way too early. Build or buy, I’m not about to go independent of their system and try to protect anything we find from claim jumpers.”
“Jeff is surprised how fast they are refining their drive but it still may be a wait before used ships become available.”
Eddie shrugged. “Like everyone else, life extension is making me take the long view.”
“Other spacers playing by the Earthie rules was something I didn’t foresee,” April said.
“I doubt I’ll be the only one,” Eddie predicted.
* * *
Ted Foster's pirate radio broadcast was listened to by everyone who had a capable radio receiver or friendly neighbors who would welcome them to listen in. He managed to cover most of their county and the fringes of a couple of others. The Foys and Alice were no exception, turning the radio volume up and listening without speaking over it as they finished putting away the clean dishes from supper. They stayed at the table when done and continued listening, though Eileen did some mending and Alice wrote in her notebook.
The new Texan authorities were turning a blind eye to the illegal radio’s continued operation since it was still the only effective means of broadcast communication in the county and some adjoining areas. It was particularly important right now for the public to hear the results of the county election. The election was held four days ago and tonight Ted announced that Arlo Ritner had a clear majority of votes no matter how the remaining mailbox votes ran. It would be a week before the Ranger patrols finished checking every road in the county for mailbox ballots.
The election news was followed by announcements of one birth and two deaths. There were some paid-for coded messages such as Vic and Eileen had used in the past. Then the broadcast had a very abbreviated end piece of Texas news. The big stories were flooding near Houston from a tropical storm, and the names of some Mexican politicians who joined Texan political parties as Texas absorbed its neighbor to the south without firing a shot. There was also a quote noted of a Guatemalan representative, urging his country to apply for Texan statehood. An idea that wasn’t gathering a lot of support in the Texan legislature.
The Texan dollar was quoted against the Australian dollar and gold. The Foys noticed that there was no attempt to counter the legal fiction it was on a par with the North American dollar. Vic didn’t see the advantage of officially pretending they were valued the same. Texan stock market closings were quoted but not individual stocks. If there were any winners, the four non-instant Texan lotto games had their winning numbers recited. At the very end, a few local businesses were doing well enough to have ads presented, and then Ted shut down for the night. They listened until his last word before discussing it.
“Mr. O’Neil is set for county executive too,” Vic insisted, “but Ted is smart not to declare it ahead so early to avoid the appearance of favoritism. People could say he influenced the remaining uncounted votes.”
“Did Mr. Mast promote O’Neil for county executive?” Eileen wondered.
Vic made a little horse snort through his nose.
“You ask him and see if you can get a straight yes or no,” Vic invited. “When I asked him directly, he said he’d be a damn fool to propose anybody else when people were volunteering that they wanted him and would write him in if he wasn’t on the ballot. He’s well known for dealing fairly at his store and people talk that around and don’t forget it.”
* * *
“I think we have a good enough team assembled to return to the other living world we discovered,” Deloris told Heather.
Heather’s brother Barak was with her but stood back, silently supportive. The explorers were all equal except for the necessities of command, but Deloris was clearly dominant and Heather would be a fool to pretend otherwise. The other team members were absent but one could be sure they were thoroughly briefed about what Deloris was going to tell her.
“Why good enough instead of magnificent?” Heather asked. She drew the word out with the sort of breathless wonder used to sell things on the video channels. She had some ideas about what limitations Deloris was working with recruiting so it was at least partially humor. Some of the experts she’d hired were marginally qualified or rank amateurs. Deloris and her crews hadn’t complained about the constraints so far and she was inviting her to speak up if they had any serious objections.
“Because of the way rank and tenure work among the Earthies, the most qualified of the academics are insulted to be offered a berth on our explorer. They want to come based on when they can get a sabbatical rather than our schedule. The idea of quitting their slot at the pig trough of higher education would never occur to them. They expect a private cabin if not a suite, and be allowed to haul along a few graduate students and a secretary to do all their heavy lifting for them.”
“There must be exceptions or you wouldn’t have any support people,” Heather said.
“Oh, sure. We have a few round pegs in square holes so smart I think they could do just about anything if we gave them a week or two to read up on it. Maybe even my job. We wanted a botanist and if possible one who specialized in grasses. The survey from orbit saw no large woody plants like trees. The radar returns at different frequencies indicate the height of most ground-covering foliage is from three centimeters to a meter. So, there isn’t anything woody and tall enough that we’d call it a bush.”
Heather just nodded. She’d read the survey report and remembered the details like those numbers better than Deloris might have expected.
“What Jeff got for us was not a botanist but a Nobel Prize-winning biochemist. Bobby Ennis won the prize for explaining the exact chemical path of cellular differentiation in plants. I’m guessing he isn’t worried about having a job when he returns, given his credentials. There will be plenty of institutions eager to take him if his present employer is dumb enough to let him go. Jeff asked Bob if he was too specialized to conduct a general survey of an entire new biosphere. The fellow said he wouldn’t take offense, but that was like asking the builder of race car engines if he could do an oil change. He also didn’t have to be asked if he would do other support duties when not busy with his primary job. Bobby volunteered he was a passable cook and not above scrubbing toilets if that’s what it took to get a ride to another star system. The man got major points with me for asking how many kilograms he was allowed for personal items like clothing and entertainment. I’ll take six more like him, please.”
“In what area are we weakest?” Heather asked.
“Animal biologists,” Deloris said. “We didn’t try to get one too hard because we didn’t see an animal from orbit. That’s with a three-centimeter resolution survey of several different areas. I suspect they may not exist. There might be insect analogs or life in the ocean, but it’s weird to see all that grass and no herds of herbivores munching on it. In truth, we didn’t try to recruit very hard because I’m not sure we need one.”
“No birds either?” Heather asked. “I didn’t see that addressed.”
“Not unless they are hummingbird-sized. There might be insects,” she speculated.
“I accept your analysis we have a workable support crew,” Heather decided. “We three will come along again to see the world for ourselves after we orbit awhile in the Chariot and allow you to establish it is reasonably safe. I suppose eventually these landings will be routine and we won’t always join you. Not yet though. We’re still excited about it.”
“That leads to my next suggestions,” Deloris said. “As commander on the pointy end, I don’t want to be micromanaged from orbit. When you do land, I suggest you make a separate landing so one local problem like a storm can’t catch both ships in the same location.”
“With a relay satellite to keep in touch?” Heather asked.
“See, you’re not as dumb as you look,” Deloris praised her sovereign.
Chapter 4
“Alice, you haven’t been right for several days now,” Eileen said. “You’re tense and start to stare off in the distance when you think about whatever is bothering you. You catch yourself and force a calm demeanor for us but something is eating at you.”
“You’ve talked to Vic about it,” Alice said, “or you wouldn’t be asking me in front of him, right?”
“Yes, I consult with him on just about everything,” Eileen admitted. “He usually returns the favor. So far, it seems to be working for us pretty well.”
“What did he say?”
“He said you’d open up and talk about it if you wanted any advice. Until then he had no particular desire to interrogate you about it. He reminded me we aren’t your parents and you are free to seek other arrangements if you aren’t comfortable here any longer. I just don’t have his patience to pretend nothing is wrong any longer. You’re driving me nuts.”
“I got myself in a bit of a bind at the festival,” Alice said. “I’m just not sure what to do. If you could help me that would be ideal. I don’t have anybody else I’d trust. Maybe Mr. Mast. He seems like a genuinely honest man but you never know.”
Eileen looked confused. “I thought maybe you got yourself pregnant at the festival but I don’t see how Mr. Mast would help that or how his honesty would matter. I’ve been waiting for you to display morning sickness or some other sign but then some people never do.”
“That is not a problem and isn’t likely to be a problem for some time,” Alice said indignantly. “I have a money problem.”
It was Vic’s turn to look confused. “We are not without assets,” he reminded her, “if the problem is within our means to help.”
“I don’t owe money,” Alice said. “When I bought some stuff from the gun guy the fellow ahead of me took his change in lotto tickets and that seemed pretty neat to me so I did the same. He should have asked how old I was! Turns out that on the ticket it says you must be eighteen to play. The ticket is only good for a year and I won’t be eighteen in time.”
Vic laughed. “I bet it isn’t illegal to donate your money to Texas. They’re only going to define playing as trying to collect from them. It’s not right he didn’t ask and I bet they didn’t have the rules prominently displayed anywhere. But that’s the sort of life lesson you get by doing things.”
“Honey, why didn’t you just ask one of us to turn it in for you?” Eileen asked.
“It’s the big one,” Alice explained. “The Lone Star.”
Vic looked really hurt. “I’m so disappointed you think we’d steal your winnings, big or small.”
“Not at all, you big idiot! I was afraid you’d go all righteously indignant and tell me the rules are the rules and refuse to touch tainted money!”
Vic was so incredulous he was speechless.
“Well, you wanted us to let those creeps trying to steal your house have the first shot. I believe that’s what they call being a Boy Scout. Believe it or not, I think of myself as an honest person but you scare me with the way you compulsively follow rules. If you did refuse to cash it in for me, you’d probably loudly object and mess things up if I tried going to somebody else.”
“I admit I may be a little excessive about rule-following,” Vic said. “I did come around to everybody’s view on the shooting. This is much more complicated. They formed a contract with you when they took your money. Or at least their agent did. You paid in good faith, unaware of the rules, and I don’t want to see you cheated over technicalities. Eileen or I will present it for you and make the money available to you, somehow. It may be necessary to wait until you are eighteen to convey it to you.”
“It may get complicated,” Eileen worried. “They’ll take the taxes out in our name, won’t they? Will that have follow-on consequences?”
“Eileen, dearest, we are under a tax moratorium in the county until the executive announces things are normal enough to start collections back up,” Vic said. “The smart thing would be to present it as quickly as possible before that can happen.”
“Oh, I think I heard you guys talking about the tax thingy but I forgot. I know Ted rattled off the winning numbers and how big the prize was but I wasn’t paying attention. It didn’t seem relevant to my life. How much did you win?” Eileen asked Alice.
“Six hundred and thirteen million dollars. I could buy your home and land for enough to send you off to space like you want,” Alice said. “How’s that for relevance?”
When it was Eileen’s turn to be too shocked to reply, Alice added. “I’d have shared this with you in any case. You guys saved my life when you picked me up on the road and got me away from the Olsens. Then you gave me somewhere to live, too.”
“I seem to remember you saved us from being ambushed by them,” Vic said. “Chances are you saved our lives too.”
“I don’t think you realized what bad shape I was in,” Alice told him. “I don’t think I could have walked to the fairgrounds without giving out. If I tried, there was a good chance the Olsens would have recaptured me. If they had gotten your motorcycle, it would have been easy to quickly check the road both ways to find me before I could have walked very far. Even if I escaped the Olsens, I might have had to accept shelter with somebody else who would treat me just as bad or worse.”
“You did look a bit ragged,” Vic admitted. “You treat us however you feel is fair. You’re still welcome here even if you decide buying our spread was a bad idea. I won’t be able to convey the money to you and you still won’t be able to spend it or travel freely until you are eighteen. So, nothing has changed about how we’ll live together for most of another year. Not unless you want to go take your chances with somebody else, like Mast.”
“No. I’ll stick with your hospitality, thank you.”
* * *
“It's hard to stay sealed up and just look at it after all the anticipation,” Barak said.
“Take nothing for granted,” his commander Deloris said. “It looks like a big field of grass back on Earth but there could be a dozen things just waiting to kill you. I didn’t even assume we had firm ground to land on. My hand was poised to lift us back off if the landing pads didn’t support us. The Prospector did push them into the soil a few centimeters.
“We will survey out to a couple of kilometers with drones for small creatures and see if there are bacteria in the air and soil. The Guinea pigs and rats will be exposed to the local air for the rest of today and overnight in a lower deck airlock with the outer door open. Tomorrow, I might consider allowing you out in the area our drive burned clear in a pressure suit.”
“I was concerned we’d start a big fire,” Alice said. “It spread downwind eighty or ninety meters and petered out.”
“Yes, I was surprised it didn’t burn more, even as green as it looked,” Deloris said. “The oxygen is a hair over twenty-eight percent. The pressure is a bit lower than Earth normal so the partial pressure should be low enough to not make us sick. At least not unless you have lived here for years. There are areas at lower elevations where the grass has turned tan. If it has seasonal growth like Earth grasses it has bolted there and might be very flammable even without the higher oxygen. That was one more reason I picked this site.”
“Why did I think it would be flat?” Barak asked. The land was rolling hills and in the far distance mountain peaks showed bare rock and snowy tops. It was all grass covered as high as the grass could survive on the slopes. The lower plains Deloris was talking about were out of sight from them.
“I’d guess because on Earth trees predominate on slopes and higher altitudes over grasses. People talk about the timberline where solid forest ends and the tree line where even single hardy specimens stop but grass and bushes do survive a little higher. I’ve never heard a common term for where they stop. I guess that’s because trees were more important to human survival. I never heard it stated as any sort of rule, but we form assumptions from all the images we see. Grasses do better at lower elevations so we expect prairies to be flat,” Deloris said. “We’ll have to check those microclimates and near the poles for different organisms.”
Alice agreed, nodding. “Eventually we need to survey the oceans too.”
“Lichens grow pretty well at higher elevations,” Bobby offered on the command channel. “Prairies can form where there isn’t enough rainfall for trees or grazing, and annual burns can kill off saplings.”
“Yes,” Deloris agreed. “I read the indigenous people regularly set fires in North America to make the land better suited for the game they hunted.”
“How do you guys know this stuff?” Barak asked.
“We’ve been researching it ever since we knew from orbit that there weren’t any trees,” Deloris said. “Didn’t you do that?”
“Honestly, I’ve been too busy,” Barak claimed.
Deloris just nodded politely, but Alice behind him gave Deloris a look that made clear she wasn’t buying that. Too busy partying, she thought.
* * *
“Does it make any sense to keep mining gold when we have such a fortune in the pipeline?” Alice asked.
“I wondered the same thing,” Eileen admitted. “Not to pressure you, but for us, that depends on how much you intend to share. You’re not obligated to a penny except whatever your generosity and sense of fairness moves you. But for planning, we’d need numbers. Then there is always the possibility they’ll try to weasel out of the tax moratorium or end it suddenly. I’d hate to stop mining and then need to start over later. There’s no making up lost time if that happens. I’m also reluctant to dismiss Pearl and make them aware something major has changed so that we don’t need her anymore. She’s no dummy. She’ll figure out something changed. Worse, she might ask around trying to find out what.”
“What do you think, Vic?” Alice asked. He wasn’t one to volunteer his thoughts easily.
“You both make good points. It’s never good to count your chickens before they’re hatched. I saw signs at the post office that you can present winning lotto tickets there. I think we’ll know where we stand quickly. Let me ask you a question. If you were walking around at the festival and saw a dollar laying on the ground, would you pick it up?”
“Of course,” Alice said. The questioning expression on her face said she didn’t know where he was going with this.
“So, imagine you’ve collected this six hundred million and change. Will you still pick up a measly dollar?” he demanded.
“I’d pick up a penny,” Alice said. “It’s still money.”
Vic nodded. “From my viewpoint, the gold is money too and it’s just sitting there waiting to be picked up. If it was worth picking up before nothing has changed for me.”
“OK, you’ve convinced me,” Alice said. “If I don’t need it as money, I can always have it made into jewelry. Every time I put it on, I’ll think of the effort that went into finding it.”
Vic smiled. “And value it more than if you bought it with easy money.”
* * *
“Deloris, nothing seems to need your immediate attention,” April said after their breakfast on the second day. “May I tell you a few things we’ve seen from orbit?”
“Yeah, we beat off the last wave of tentacled monsters and I can talk a little now.”
“I’ll have to check the back scroll for that,” April said tongue in cheek. “With a better mapping from orbit, we found there are a few places without grass.”
“Oh? I’m surprised. What’s there if not grass?” Deloris asked.
“Rocks,” April said. “Islands with lots of bare rock and sand.”
“So, with no birds, no flying insects, there was no way for seed or spores to get to those islands,” Deloris speculated. “No fuzzy seeds to be carried on the wind either.”
“Or bubbles, like our other world, Oasis,” Barak noted.
“And yet they are on the two main continents which are well separated,” April said.
“Maybe they were together once,” Alice said.
“Continental drift?” April asked. “The world does have magnetism and a molten core. We saw some volcanoes but they’re different than Earth's. There are three arcs of them in one hemisphere, with the concave side towards the direction of spin. They only go to about fifty degrees latitude and none are huge. The trailing arcs are much lower so we’re assuming that’s from weathering.”
“The convection currents in the core are organized differently,” Barak said with utter confidence. “I bet there are remnants of similar arcs on the other side of the world if we look closely enough.” He didn’t have these intuitive leaps very often but when he did it paid to take them seriously.
“That could be,” April said. “A couple of the arcs extended into the ocean but the volcanoes weren’t always successful in breaking the surface and creating islands. Three large non-volcanic islands were probably continental break-offs”
“Define fairly large,” Deloris asked.
“The big one is about the size of Madagascar.”
“That’s big enough to serve as an isolated colony here for years,” Alice said.
“We can use those isolated islands to try introducing Earth plants. We just have to avoid those that would spread to the continents on the wind. This doesn’t appeal to my aesthetic sense.” Deloris said with a sweeping gesture at the scenery outside their ports, “However, we need to understand it better before introducing our plants in competition and disrupting it.”
“Just because they’re grasses doesn’t mean they can’t be a source of new pharmaceuticals or food. Even if they require processing, a lot of common Earth plants need processing to be edible,” Alice said.
“Yeah, but what I want to know is if a cow can eat any of it,” Barak said. “Vat meat is tasty but I miss bone beef and proper juicy hamburgers.”
“That’s another sort of processing, isn’t it?” April asked.
“Seriously, yes! And you get real meat, not some gruel or flour,” Barak agreed.
“That’s another expert we’ll need,” April said. “I don’t think I know anyone who has the foggiest idea how to keep a cow happy and healthy. Speaking of which, none of your test animals got sick from exposure. Maybe you can offer them some grass and see if they will even try it. By the time we land maybe we can go out without suits.”
“I know you are anxious to land. Give us two more days,” Deloris said. “Get your com satellite positioned and I’m confident we can give you a yes or no on landing then.”
“You’re the boss on the ground,” April agreed.
* * *
“Can you believe it? The roots on the grass here by the ship go down a meter!” Deloris told her orbiting companions.
“I wonder if that indicates there are bad droughts?” Jeff said.
“I don’t know,” Deloris admitted. “Bobby seems interested in checking out other areas with visibly different grass. When you land, we’ll make sure the grass there is a different color and height to get another data set. It will be interesting to see if other varieties are so deeply rooted. We’re having to fabricate a different set of sealed containers because the ones we prepared ahead are too short. He’s scared to cut off two-thirds of the roots. They might not survive.”
“The samples will survive OK in sealed containers?” Barak asked.
The entire crew was welcome to listen on the command channel. Their plant expert Bob Ennis spoke up.
“They’re clear on top. The grass will get light and we’ll adjust the lights to approximate the natural light here.”
“They don’t need fresh air or watering?” Barak wondered.
“Not unless they’re very different than Earth plants. Transporting plants in sealed glass cases is something that was used as far back as the era of sailing ships. Before that, they didn’t survive very well going halfway around the world on an open deck with salt spray and storms. It let them smuggle plants that one part of the world had a monopoly on to other areas. That was a big deal economically. It made cinchona, tea, rubber, and cane sugar widely available. They were called Wardian cases and were a bit of a status symbol for the wealthy English of the Victorian era. They’d keep a Wardian case of exotic plants in the parlor to impress people.”
“With a little luck some of these plants will be economically important too,” April said.
“Bob? I have an idea,” Barak said. “Why don’t you put some of this grass in one of your cases and a couple of samples of Earth plants on either side? It will be interesting to see if one takes over and crowds the other out.”
“I already planned a similar test once I was told there are bare islands with no vegetation, but that would have to wait on a future expedition. We can do what you suggested now and as a bonus do several cases subjected to different environments. We can see how they compete both in local conditions and Earth normal. Thanks for the idea,” Bob said. “Oh, and the Guinea pigs and rats readily ate the local grass. Sadly, we don’t have a cow to test for you but the Guinea pigs had massive diarrhea and recovered from it. After that, they ate it again with no problem. The rats ate it and displayed no problems. But if you offer them both they prefer the Earth food. We’ll have to see if it sustains any kind of Earth life nutritionally long term.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Alice said. “I think Ratus ratus could survive on a diet of greasy pizza boxes and electrical wire insulation.”
“Something else you might find interesting,” Deloris said, “I tried to pluck a single stalk of grass. I couldn’t. I could break off the roots but the stalk was so strong I was scared it was going to cut through my gloves. That might be a cheap source of fiber to rival synthetics.”
“Sweet,” Barak said. “We’ll make some money off this world for sure.”
“Does anybody have a name they’d like to propose for the world?” Deloris asked.
“I kind of like Prairie,” Alice said.
“Hmm… Bob, is that accurate?” Deloris inquired.
“Technically it’s unlike any Earth prairie,” Bob agreed. “It does prompt the proper mental image of unending grasslands. There are other words for the same thing such as Pampas but we’re English speakers. Any accurate name will be an unwieldy explanation. Grass as a stand-alone name doesn’t seem nearly as descriptive. I wouldn’t want people to get a mental picture of an English-style lawn. Prairie gets my vote.”
Deloris looked at Barak and got an indifferent shrug.
“Prairie it is. I’m entering its naming as a line item in the abbreviated log.”
* * *
“I’m going to present Alice’s lotto ticket tomorrow. I asked to ride with Tommy when he goes to work in the morning. I’m a little slower than him even with the electric drive but he doesn’t mind taking the extra time since it’s safer,” Vic said.
“Didn’t he wonder why?” Eileen asked.
“Not a bit. I’ve ridden in beside him before and didn’t volunteer what my business was. He’d love to have some backup every day.”
“There hasn’t been any banditry in a long time,” Eileen said.
“No,” Vic agreed, “but there are plain old home-grown criminals, though I admit that has gotten better since The Day. Besides there being two of us, Tommy makes me feel safer because assaulting a postman is a serious offense and is punished more harshly. The Texans have big posters making sure everyone knows that at the post office, and displayed them on their booth at the festival. Tommy counts on that quite a bit. I’m just extra cautious because I’m carrying Alice’s lotto ticket. It’s a bearer instrument. If anything should happen to me, it will be tucked inside my sock on my right foot.”
“I don’t like you to talk like that,” Eileen said.
“Do you want me to come along?” Alice asked.
“I most especially don’t want you there,” Vic said. “It would be out of character for me to bring you along unless there was some other business that involved you. I’ve arranged for Mr. Mast and Mr. O’Neil to both be there to witness my claim. They undoubtedly wonder why I need them, but of course I wouldn’t risk saying why on the sat phone.”
“You have a good reputation with them,” Eileen said. “They’re both busy important men and wouldn’t take time for just anybody with no explanation.”
“Will they ask the gun dealer anything?” Alice asked. “Could he remember selling it to me and still mess the deal up?”
“I’ve been researching all the rules,” Vic said. “The code on the ticket tells them who sold it. Even if he could remember everyone he sold a ticket to, I wouldn’t expect the dealer to say anything. From a hundred thousand dollars up the issuing merchant gets a one percent bonus for selling the winning ticket. He’s not going to jeopardize that.”
“You still be extra careful,” Eileen told him. “Maybe you should have arranged for an armed escort.”
“That would just announce to the world I was carrying something really valuable.”
* * *
“There are bacteria in the soil,” Bobby said, “but in Earth soil, there would be millions of tiny organisms in every square meter. Nematodes as well as earthworms, arthropods, and insects. Besides the soil fauna, there are fungi, yeasts, protozoa, and rotifers. Viruses rain from the sky all over the world and we still don’t know how all these interact. It’s hard to see how dead plants are reduced back to nutrients on this world. Computer models for biological systems are harder to make work than predicting the weather. I don’t understand how such a simple ecological system can be stable. When people try to create such a simple system it invariably fails from nutrients not being processed or some bacteria having a runaway population that turns the whole thing into slime.
“Is the lack of animals why the oxygen is so high?” Alice asked.
“Maybe in ten or twenty years I can give you a good guess on that,” Bobby said.
“I wonder if we shouldn’t disinfect our pressure suits going out as well as returning?” Alice said. “Might we mess up the local ecology with just a few exotic bacteria?”
“That’s a possibility,” Bobby admitted, “but the world will be pretty useless to us if it’s that delicate and easy to destroy. The reality of biological isolation is that it fails. Even level five isolation labs have failures as Earth has found out to their sorrow. It’s not a question of if but when. To truly avoid ever contaminating this world from our common bacteria the only choice would be to isolate it and never explore it.”
“I find it hard to believe it’s that delicate,” Deloris decided. “If it were, then the first time there was a significant mutation in the native soil bacteria it would crash the system.”
“That seems plausible,” Bobby admitted.
“Unless the test animals suddenly drop dead, I can’t see any reason to not bring the Chariot down tomorrow morning,” Deloris said. “All the immediate safety concerns seem to be under control.”
“Thank you,” April said from orbit. “We don’t see any issues from here.”
“Let’s see if we can finish up collecting the live samples today,” Deloris said. “We have quite a bit of sunlight left.”
Chapter 5
“Good morning, Vic. What’s the mystery requiring my help?” Mr. Mast asked.
Eileen might be right about him having credit with Mast but Vic could tell he was a little put out at Vic’s secrecy. If it was something silly or a trivial waste of his time Vic expected Mast to be unhappy with him and say so. O’Neil with him didn’t seem nearly as concerned.
“I’ve got a winning lottery ticket and want to make sure I get treated right on it and no hassle about being under the tax moratorium. I want some witnesses with enough leverage it matters if it becomes a legal issue.”
“I can’t imagine Texas is going to try to short you on a lotto win,” Mast said. “They depend on public confidence that the game is fair. Why would you think such a thing?”
“Because it’s their big one, the Lone Star.”
Mast’s face lost the frown he was wearing and for just a second, he thought Mast wasn’t going to believe him. If he thought it was a joke the thought was brief and passing.
“I don’t follow it because I don’t play, but the big one runs into the millions, doesn’t it?”
“Six hundred plus millions,” Vic assured Mast. “People can get funny about that much money and forget their own rules. I wouldn’t waste your morning for pocket change.”
Mast’s attitude changed. He let out a long shrill whistle.
“Tax-free,” Mr. O’Neil reminded them. “Let’s see to getting it cashed before Administrator Corey hears about it. I agree he might feel a sudden urge to terminate his tax deferral for the bite they’d get on six hundred million. I bet some people are going to be peeved at him for allowing this to happen.”
“Indeed, that much money can warp people’s judgment,” Mast agreed. “It’s easy to say after the fact that he should have set a cap on how much income could be deferred.”
The postal clerk knew all three of them. Mr. Mast and Mr. O’Neil as local officials, but they stood back, while Vic came to the counter. It broke the pattern of their expected behavior and confused him momentarily but they both nodded hello and didn’t seem upset with him. So, he asked Vic, Mr. Foy to him, how he could help him.
“I want to present a lotto ticket for redemption, please.”
“Oh, I’ve had a couple of those the last few days,” he said, relieved to be on familiar ground. “There were four outside merchants at the fair that had lotto terminals and they were packed up and gone before some of their customers could get back to them to cash out their instant tickets. I can pay the instant tickets out of the cash drawer.”
“It’s not an instant winner,” Vic informed him. He put the ticket on the counter but kept a proprietary finger pinning it down.
“Oh, my.” The clerk leaned over mouth gaping when he recognized the Lone Star logo. “I’m not even sure how to do this. It isn’t like the games that commonly have multiple winners. Give me a minute to bring the instructions up on my screen.”
“Thank you,” Vic said. He was pleased the clerk didn’t ask his local supervisor. Once something started being pushed to higher authority it would probably get passed to Administrator Corey, the Texan liaison to the county government.
“I have a form to fill out,” the clerk read off the screen. “I need to scan the ticket on both sides into the form and have you choose some preferences. Then as soon as the system establishes the issuing merchant did indeed sell this ticket, we can finalize it.”
“How long does that usually take?” Vic asked.
“It’s a decent network. I never have any noticeable lag getting documents back.” He took the wireless camera off the top of his monitor and adjusted it. “If you’d let me view the entire document?”
Vic withdrew his finger but left his hand by the ticket. The clerk took an image then flipped it over, oblivious to Vic’s discomfort at his handling it, and captured the back side.
“It’s verified,” he announced with no discernable pause. “Now, the Dallas merchant who sold you the ticket will have it announced that they sold it. They demand that because the merchants get a nice boost in sales any time they have a big winner. You, however, have the option to remain anonymous if you wish. If you want to go have a ceremony with the passing of a huge check you have to give them the right to use video of that in lotto advertising. If you’d rather not, just give me your Texas Tax ID and bank numbers. It will be deposited directly to your account.”
“We’re still in a tax moratorium as a recently annexed territory,” Vic reminded him. “I don’t have a Texas Tax ID.”
“Silly me,” the clerk said. “I know that. It’s a serious perk of this post. I just got wrapped up in following the form. There must have been other tax-free winners, so let me ask the home office what they use on the form for a tax number in tax-free zones.”
Vic held his breath, aware of how the clerk phrased it and how much extra information he volunteered could very well affect the reply.
“That’s easy enough,” the clerk said. “I just put in nine nines and it will recognize it’s in a tax-free zone. Now, do you have routing and account numbers for me?”
Vic wrote them down rather than risking a verbal error and had the clerk repeat them back to him.
There was the click of a single key when Vic confirmed they were correct.
“Congratulations. You’re the richest person I’ve ever met,” the clerk said.
Vic’s phone buzzed and when he looked there was a text message.
This is your Chase automated system. You have requested notification for any transaction over $1,000. Your Chase Texas checking received a deposit of $613,000,000.
Vic let loose a deep sigh of relief and looked in his wallet. The biggest bill he had for a tip was a hundred.
“Thank you for your service. I’d very much appreciate it if I could remain anonymous locally as well,” Vic said offering the tip to the clerk.
“Oh, no. That’s kind of you but we’re not allowed to accept gratuities for our official services. Be assured I’ll respect your privacy also. There are very strict regulations about both tips and gossip. I like my job and don’t want to be fired for cause.”
“Our postal carriers always accepted gifts at Christmas,” Mr. O’Neil said.
“I’ve heard that has been the custom with letter carriers,” the clerk agreed. “It certainly doesn’t hold for administrative personnel. I’d rather not be burdened with specific examples of carriers receiving gifts. Even if it is winked at locally.”
“Well then, just take my thanks for facilitating my win,” Vic said.
“It was an interesting experience. I hope you enjoy your winnings. I’ve read that for many they are a burden and they end up broke and worse off than before in a short number of years.”
“I’ve heard that too,” Vic agreed. “My wife and I have several worthy projects we were already pursuing and this will make them easier. We won’t frit it away.”
Mr. Mast cleared his throat. “If that finishes up this business?” he inquired, impatient at any needless chit-chat.
“Yes, and thank you for witnessing it,” Vic told them both.
* * *
It was getting close to sundown but there wasn’t going to be any picture postcard sunset. Deloris looked at the western horizon and it seemed to be getting dark early. “There’s a dark line of clouds on the horizon. Do you see any unusual activity from up there?” She asked the Chariot hovering in geosynchronous orbit above them.
“There are scattered thunderstorms about a hundred kilometers west of you,” April said. “I’m surprised they are high enough that you can see them already. I know you can get clear sky lightning ahead of a storm but you seem far enough away that shouldn’t be a danger. There are some fires in the grasslands behind this advancing front. Probably from lightning. If there are new ones closer the clouds block a clear view of the thermal sources.”
“We’re nearly done working outside anyway,” Deloris said. “I’m calling a retreat to the ship as soon as the current activities can be finished and our equipment put away. I’d rather not have to hurry if conditions start to deteriorate.”
All the outside teams acknowledged her order. Kurt was with Deloris today. Alice and Barak, Bobby, and the cook who was Bobby’s boss when he didn’t have biological duties. They were all inside by the time the storm front passed. Deloris watched from the control room ports. A couple of the others checked it out on camera. The gusts made waves in the grass almost like water. The gusts could be felt to move the ship but never endangered it. By the time the dark clouds passed over them, it was night. The smoke from the distant fires obscured any stars in the western sky. Everybody went to bed.
The ship’s alarm awakened them before dawn. Deloris immediately checked the outside cameras. There was fire visible to the west. It took a moment to come fully awake before she realized the fire wasn’t what had tripped the alarm. At least not directly. It was the atmospheric monitor and an alert to check the test animals. Deloris put both on a split screen and hesitated for a moment with her thumb ready to uncover the general alarm and declare an emergency lift. The area around the ship was already burnt away from their landing so the fire itself shouldn’t be a significant hazard. The grass simply did not have the density of fuel that a forest fire had to raise the outside temperature. She reconsidered sounding the alarm since nothing was happening inside the hull. Deloris withdrew her hand and forced herself to examine both screens before she panicked.
The animals were most upsetting. The Guinea pigs were all jammed together in one corner of their cage motionless. The sensor readouts indicated their temperature was dropping. The rats were even worse. They were strewn all over in contorted positions, twisted and sprawled with arched backs.
“I’m up and observing,” April announced from orbit. “Your alarm was repeated here. I won’t distract you while you deal with this,” she promised.
Deloris was glad she didn’t lift in a panic with her superiors observing from above. A commander should be calm no matter the circumstances.
The atmospheric monitor listed all sorts of particulates and several toxic gasses such as hydrogen cyanide and phosgene. Some compounds Deloris didn’t recognize were starred as particular hazards. She wasn’t a chemistry major but there were enough red-starred items on the list that it was clearly a lethal witch’s brew. Any smoke could be a hazard but this took it to an extreme. The contorted state of the rat’s bodies suggested some parts of the toxic mix were nerve agents.
Deloris sounded the klaxon finally but not in a panic. She turned on the all-ship PA. “I’m lifting in two minutes,” she announced, voice calm. “If you are in your bunk, stay there. If you are at a duty station with a couch or chair stop your activity and take a seat while we lift. Expect a thirty-second boost, a transition, and reduced acceleration as I vector around this world to join the Chariot. There will be no weightless period, just mildly changing levels of acceleration. So don’t be concerned about objects becoming projectiles or cooking food flying about in the galley.” By the time she said that they were less than a minute from lifting. She sounded the klaxon again for anyone awakened and too groggy to follow what she’d said. The ship lifted perfectly and was well clear of the ground when she jumped under acceleration.
“Good call,” April told Deloris once the Prospector was on a safe course to meet them. “We’d have never landed in those conditions so it made sense to lift. Do you think we can have the animals examined back home to know exactly what killed them?”
“Maybe. I wanted to be sure everything toxic was flushed from the airlock. I left the outer door open when I lifted and don’t intend to close it soon. The little creatures will be freeze-dried so it may be difficult to learn anything from them. I’d examine them in isolation just like infectious material. Who knows what may outgas from them when they are thawed?”
“Good point. We’ll take every precaution,” April agreed.
“This kind of takes the polish off this world, doesn’t it?” Deloris groused.
That was unexpected. April looked surprised and didn’t reply immediately.
“Or not, if you want to tell me why.” Deloris knew she’d put her foot in it.
“Deloris, every indication is that living worlds are rare. We’ll have to take precautions but there are valuable things to be found here. We might have to set up on one of the bare islands and limit any permanent structures on the grass-covered area. Think about all the ways Earth kills people every year. It would be even more dangerous for an alien landing the first time. We think of Earth as our standard for safety, other than the crazy natives, only because we know the hazards. It most certainly is not safe. Earth has thousands of ways to kill you. I don’t think we’ll ever find some cartoon world full of pleasant vistas as safe as sitting in your living room. Especially not a living world because life tends to conflict and competition.”
“Well, if there was anything else living here before, the grass won,” Alice said.
Barak cut in on the circuit. “Well, now we know why there aren’t any animals. The grass fires kill off huge areas regularly with toxic emissions. It would be tough to maintain a population. There’d be a new fire before a new generation of any organism could mature. I bet these fires are an annual event.”
“Maybe some sort of fast breeders like mice if they could spread out quickly,” Alice suggested. “There must be some areas that don’t get burned off every season.”
“Obviously that didn’t happen,” Bobby said. “Let’s be careful not to introduce them ourselves. If we mess up and do that, we’ll be scrambling to try to introduce predators to control them. The experience on Earth is that it’s harder than you think to introduce new organisms without wrecking the ecology already present. Your best computer model never anticipates reality. It’s humbling if you have any sense at all.”
“Like Australia,” Alice said expecting them all to know all the disasters of bad planning that had happened there.
“Amen,” was all Bobby replied.
“Do you want to do another landing, April? Perhaps on one of the empty islands?” Deloris suggested. “We can do that with little risk in my opinion, but to what purpose I’m not sure. We don’t have a geology expert yet. It seems like that would be needed for a bare rock landscape.”
“No, let’s go home. We have enough samples to study. We may not get a professional geologist, but I can find a rockhound before we explore the bare islands. An amateur may be better about not trying to apply Earth theories to a new world. You can also bring back seeds and cuttings for Bobby to try growing Earth plants. We’ll fab a building to erect too. It should be air-tight and have locks. We have no idea if the air gets polluted enough from a big burn to reach distant islands but it’s better to be safe.”
“I’d like that,” Bobby agreed. “If I could have an assistant for the grunt work, I’d appreciate it.”
“Any particular specialty?” April asked.
“Somebody experienced at orchard work or a farmer would be nice but I can work with anybody smart enough to lay sod green side up.”
“And my cow,” Barak pleaded. “If they can’t graze where the grass is we could have an automated mowing machine and bring them the cut grass.”
“You don’t just cut it and feed it to cattle,” Bobby warned. “I don’t know all the details but we would require a facility that converts the cut plants to silage. Like any mature process, there are probably a hundred details I’d never guess were vital ahead of time. You might also consider finding somebody who knows how to raise pigs. I know Barak isn’t excited about pork chops, but my understanding is that pigs require less care.”
“We can do both,” Barak allowed. “Maybe one person for all livestock.”
“I have no idea how to recruit a rock hound or a cattle rancher,” April admitted. “We have an employment agency on Home that advertises and recruits from Earth. I think they would be better to task with it than my intelligence people. They’d be less likely to get people with unwanted connections, I’d think.”
“You could use them separately to vet the recruits,” Barak suggested.
“It’s going to be expensive if we have to bring people up from Earth instead of hiring local, but I can’t imagine finding the needed skills locally,” April said.
* * *
“Just because I have to wait to start spending my money, there’s no reason you can’t start spending your share,” Alice decided. “I decided you’re right that we both saved each other so I’d like to keep things balanced. I want to split my winnings with you.”
Vic looked distressed. He might be finding words to object that that was too generous so Alice headed that off.
“Half is more than I can spend unless I spend it on stupid things just because I can. I could split it three ways between us but I’m not feeling that generous,” Alice said. “I’ll round it off and gift you a hundred fifty million. I’ll keep the odd thirteen million and assume you’ll deed the ranch to me when you go to space so it’s not a perfect split. Close enough?”
Vic’s face softened. That seemed acceptable to him, to Eileen’s relief.
“That’s a deal,” Vic agreed, “I’ll make sure you are beneficiary on our Chase account and talk to our lady there about opening a teen account for you. That will give you some spending money with a debit card right now. Then, when you turn eighteen it will facilitate switching to an adult account and I can transfer your money to it. I suspect transferring millions into a teen account might raise too many questions. As we used to say, I could get run over by a bus tomorrow. We need to make these kinds of legal arrangements to protect you.”
Alice laughed out loud. “There is a serious scarcity of busses around here,” she said.
“Don’t be so sure,” Vic said waggling a finger at her. “They are supposed to have weekly bus service to Reno when things warm up and the roads are passable.”
“A mini-bus. That probably means a window van like churches used to run for the old people,” Alice said. “It won’t go past here. You’d have to make a special trip to throw yourself in front of it at the county offices.” She leaned forward and pantomimed a diving motion.
“Circumstances have never been that desperate,” Vic said, amused.
“I’ve been pretty desperate but everything is freaking wonderful now,” Alice said.
“The Chase website says Texan deposit insurance only goes to a half million,” Vic said. “We both need to think about spreading our funds to a variety of places and assets.”
“We’re going to space,” Eileen reminded him. “Why shouldn’t we put some of our money in a Spacer bank ahead of us?”
“Maybe Chase has a branch there?” Vic wondered.
“I have no idea but we don’t have to worry about running up our satellite phone fees now to investigate it,” Eileen said.
* * *
“I’m disappointed,” April admitted, “A big part of why I wanted to land and walk around a new world was it would be fun. We don’t have many things we can do just because they are fun. Eddie pointed out to me we three are a triangular peg that doesn’t fit in a social puzzle board of round and square holes. He said we get a lot fewer invitations to things because people don’t know how to treat us and are scared that they may offend us.”
“I thought that was an advantage instead of a lack,” Jeff admitted. “I’m busy enough without adding any kind of social calendar.”
“Eddie did say he has more invitations than he wants from people interested in using social events to get a foot in the door to do business with him. He turns down most of them. I’d welcome the burden of turning them down so I could occasionally accept one. Eddie says we should make our relationship with Heather plain to people so they know how to treat us. So they know simple things like if they can invite just one or two of us to an event. I’m not sure how to do that. Do I buy an ad in What’s Happening?”
“The obvious solution to me is to host your own party or event instead of waiting for somebody else to throw one,” Jeff said. “Demonstrate we aren’t inseparable.”
“I think that’s the first time you’ve said something is obvious,” April said grinning.
“Oh really?” Jeff stopped and gazed at the overhead like he was searching his memory. “How odd I’d start with a social situation instead of a physical fact that can be quantified. Nevertheless, I have an overwhelming certitude about this. You could do a little dinner party with either me, Heather, or even alone, to signal we three aren’t joined at the hips.”
“That seems scarier than landing on a new world. My mom never did that kind of thing so I have no example of how to do it.” April stopped and searched her memory just like Jeff had. “I take that back. Heather’s mom Sylvia had all sorts of dinner guests and even house guests like it was just a natural thing to do. She included me several times but it was never a formal thing. She just kind of made you feel at home and nobody ever seemed to require that much structure to be happy. Maybe we were happier just to let things unfold ad hoc,” she decided.
“There you go,” Jeff said. “I’m willing to come and be my usual charming self whenever you want to include me.”
“I think I’ll do a solo and then add one with you,” April decided.
“Add at least one person you don’t know well,” Jeff suggested. “This is all about breaking out of old patterns and modifying your public image.”
“That makes sense but why do I find it scary?” April asked. “Maybe next time.”
* * *
“Did you know all this about Home?” Vic asked.
“Very little of it,” Eileen admitted. “Mostly, I knew that it and the Moon colonies are the only places that have no regulation of life extension therapies. I wanted that and spent most of my investigation efforts on that. Much of what they said about life extension was a lie, so it’s not surprising they lied about other things. Have you ever known a liar to lie about only one thing?” Eileen asked rhetorically.
“And yet we have the public cameras on the corridors and places like the cafeteria and docks to view,” Vic said. “Even without regulation, I don’t see any freaks walking around there like the gene mods China produces.”
“Technically, China has regulation, thousands and thousands of pages of it I gave up trying to wade through,” Eileen said. “It still doesn’t prohibit stupid modifications like webbed hands and feet. Rather, they brag about them. That would be great for Olympic swimmers if any other country would allow them to compete. But it doesn’t have much to do with extending a normal life.”
“It doesn’t seem like Home has much regulation of anything,” Vic said. “They certainly don’t regulate banking. I see two banks, a couple of payday lending companies, and some odd little companies, usually individuals, who buy and sell currencies, stocks, jewelry, lift tickets, and such sort of like pawn brokers. But pawnbrokers aren’t regulated either. There are a surprising number of people dealing in used items. I’d have thought thrift shops would only be an Earth business. On the plus side, I admit the interest rates for those kinds of services aren’t ruinous like here. It’s still scary to have no deposit insurance.”
“Shouldn’t it be just the opposite?” Eileen asked.
Vic opened his mouth, blinked, and shut it.
Eileen looked worried at his reaction. “I mean, the purpose of regulation is to keep unscrupulous people from taking advantage of the public, isn’t it?”
“In theory,” Vic admitted, frowning. “That question makes me think maybe my misgivings are misplaced. Am I better off trusting my government than my banker?”
“And in reality?” Eileen asked. “I never learned much about business. I was still in school when The Day so rudely interrupted that. I’ve never held a real job.”
“In reality, it’s often about sucking in more fees for the government creating the regulations. Also, for creating a body of merchants beholden to the regulators for keeping the barriers to starting a business high so they have little competition.”
“Oh.”
Think about it,” Vic invited. “How many people do you think died of dirty combs because barbers were unregulated? They once did minor surgery too. The red strip running down a barber pole sign is from bloodletting. But that was from a time when a real surgeon hardly existed and you were lucky to have a barber who had the tools and would help you as best he could. They were pretty much gone by the end of the nineteenth century. But barbers and hair braiders and nail salons are all regulated. If you can see a shop isn’t as clean as you like, go elsewhere. In truth, under Earth regulations, the banks can charge more for credit card debt than just going to a loan shark you know is part of organized crime and paying their vig.
“We’ve spent the past couple of years here with no regulation. Instead of everybody being anxious for it to start up again we’re worried about them taking our radio net off the air and how we’ll find ways to pay sales and income tax when that starts up again. Maybe the Spacers have the right of it. They just went so completely radical that it was a shock to read about it. The question is, can we trust these Spacers to treat us fairly without all the regulations we’re used to?”
“Isn’t deposit insurance an admission all those regulations might not work?” Eileen asked. I don’t know how you know all this stuff,” Eileen said. “It took me forever and learning how to get past the net censors just to find out about life extension. I’ll be too old to go back to school by the time they open. I’m too busy to go back anyway.”
“I didn’t learn all that stuff in school,” Vic said. “My head is stuffed full of irrelevant and usually useless facts because I read everything I could in books and so many websites.”
“Our teachers constantly warned us away from reading the web,” Eileen said. “They told us we didn’t have the tools to know what was right or wrong.”
“Did they tell you they had the tools to do so? Or give you any idea when they intended to gift you with these mystery tools?” Vic asked.
“We were kids. I can see that was pretty self-serving, now. It was just a way to say believe me because I say so. If somebody I deeply trusted hadn’t told me the official view of life extension was a lie I’d have never made the huge effort to investigate it. It does make me wonder what else is a lie. Once somebody lies to me, I won’t trust them again.”
“See? You have good instincts,” Vic said. “I’ve seen you immediately not trust somebody right when you meet them before they even open their mouth. Some people never learn the skill of identifying a liar or a crook from the subtle signs when they meet them. Just like face-to-face, there are all kinds of tells online that somebody is self-serving or lying. I can tell you can do that already. You don’t immediately believe gossip and you reasoned out why it was not in our gold refiner’s self-interest to cheat us. We’ll do some lessons in the evening. Not dry school subjects. I’ll more formally introduce you to what constitutes critical thinking. Consider it part of getting ready to live up there. I’m pretty sure Home is short on stupid people to deal with. If you want to learn something like math that isn’t opinion based there are lots of free university-level courses online. We don’t have to be frugal with data now. Consider taking some lessons that will make you employable on Home.”
“I’d like that. Maybe you aren’t too old to consider taking some?” Eileen suggested.
“Maybe,” was as far as Vic would go.
Chapter 6
“Jeff, look at this news release,” April said. “It was far enough down my list of space-related stories for the day I almost missed it. The pilots of the Constitution were awarded the highest civilian medal for contributions to the country in a private ceremony. I don’t recall any news about their retirement from the Space Force.”
“Did you run a search on that?” Jeff asked.
“I am now,” April said.
“I’d especially like to see some video if you find anything,” Jeff requested.
“No returns,” April said. “I phrased the search three different ways and found nothing.”
“My guess is your worries about their cold sleep were valid,” Jeff said. “I wanted the video to see if they looked alert and healthy. The copilot was too young to retire at thirty-seven. Even if they didn’t send them out again they are the sort who would be used to create recruitment videos and get asked on talk shows.”
“Unless something was visibly wrong with them,” April said.
“Or something like altered speech,” Jeff said. “I predict that if our suspicions are correct, we simply will never hear about another crew using the hibernating tech and it will all be officially forgotten.”
“I think you can check that right now. See if you can’t pull up the original news story. If it’s gone, it isn’t a coincidence,” April said.
“Bingo. It’s gone. Officially forgotten already,” Jeff marveled. “In all fairness, I don’t think they’d need it anymore. Chen tells me seventeen hulls are being assembled in orbit and more contracted. The Earthies have thrown more money and talent at it in the last two years than we could in a century. Their way may be less efficient with more dead ends and a mob of middle managers, but it’s getting the job done.”
* * *
Mike Morse occasionally made a little coin doing things for an anonymous Spacer boss. Enough that he had a taste for more. He had goals. Eventually, he wanted the full life extension treatment. That would necessitate leaving Earth but he was willing. He’d moved when circumstances made him do so before. It beat staying on Earth on the wrong side of the sod. If he wasn’t getting enough Spacer work from his secret patron, he wasn’t shy to go looking for some more himself. Nobody told him his hire was an exclusive. Certainly not part-time. He’d learned to get around net censors and collected enough information to see what he needed to do business with the Homies.
Mike was pleasantly surprised he could open an account in the Private Bank of Home by email. That allowed him to offer services to the Homies without figuring out a way around the North American banking embargo to get paid. He was going up someday so he wasn’t worried about his money joining him. He’d go to it.
The bank owner, Irwin, would give you an account with a number or password if you didn’t want to share your name. Neither did he demand ID if you did offer a name.
Mike put an ad in the Home online news and gossip site What’s Happening. It surprised him that anything under a hundred words without pix was free. They didn’t even ask if it was personal or business. He kept it short.
A retired Florida man wants to be your personal shopper. Tired of approximate sizes and low-quality merchandise? Tell me exactly what you wish. You will be invoiced 25% of the cost before shipping. No risk. Pay only if you are satisfied. Payment to account MM at the Private Bank of Home. PersonalBuyer@proton.me
Mike wondered if he’d have any response at all. It took ten minutes.
“MM? You are in Florida? Can you go inspect some items and show them to me on your phone in Woodville? That’s a bit south of Tallahassee.”
“I can be there by two o’clock this afternoon,” Mike said.
“Good. Here’s a picture of what I want to be inspected. It’s a small motor with a gearhead on it. The long dimension is about a hundred millimeters. I need the real thing with steel gears and sintered bronze bushings. The market is flooded with Indonesian knockoffs with brass gears and cheap nylon bushings. They use pictures of the real thing online but if you show me the manufacturer’s plate on what they sit on the counter, I’ll know if it’s the real deal. If it is, I’ll give you an irrevocable Visa number and I’ll need it priority shipped to Home for Leon’s Spacecraft Services. Can you do text instead of email? It’s a little faster.”
“I do encryption and multiple hop VPN for mail,” Mike said. “I don’t want to even advertise where I’m using encryption. That’s an additional charge they can tack on now if they decide it was used for criminal purposes. Text is all monitored. They might prohibit the export of the item if they become aware of the sale and it isn’t obviously consumer goods. Socks are OK but even hardware store nuts and bolts may get stopped. Also, I don’t want to be known as working with Spacers. Even the legal stuff gets you marked for attention as being too cozy with the enemy.”
“Here’s a link for an app,” Leon said. “Load that on your phone and you can text me anonymously. Read the About file for how it works. You’re safe with it unless they are already watching you and can get between you and the tower when you call.”
“Will it work for other numbers or just yours?” Mike asked.
“Any on a modern cell system. If they change the software, it’ll simply stop working. Then it may or may not get updated but check back if it stops working.”
“Super. I’ll install that and text you from the shop,” Mike agreed. If he didn’t get any other pay, the software alone was worth the job.
* * *
“Sylvia, how would you go about holding a small dinner party?” April asked. “When I stayed at your place ages ago you just seemed such a natural hostess. There was never any stress or feeling things were rushed. Everyone seemed relaxed and happy.”
“Oh, Honey, having house guests is much different than throwing a party. A party is much more formal. There’s a set start time and you should notify everyone ahead and make sure they are free. You generally rely on the guests having the good sense to know when it’s time to go home. Unless you have a huge Earth-style home, and maybe servants, it’s hard to be formal with house guests. Everybody needs their private space to dress for dinner. I’ve never had any desire to try that.
“Informality was the key to our being relaxed. I also like to put everyone to work. People like being busy and feeling useful. At a formal dinner party, people are wearing their best and expect to be served, not to work. You need help or you’ll be kept busy serving the meal and completely miss the conversation and the whole point of hosting the party.
“You could have a party catered. If you lack room to serve everyone seated you can go with a buffet. Once it’s set up one person should be able to watch it and replenish items.”
“No, I do want it dressy and formal,” April decided.
“Is there any reason you need to have it at your home?” Sylvia asked.
“I never thought of anywhere else,” April admitted.
“I understand you are a partner in a very nice club,” Sylvia said. “If you want something special that isn’t on their regular menu, I’m sure they could arrange to buy it ahead. It has the advantage that you don’t have to kick out any guests overstaying their welcome. You can go home when you want to wrap it up and leave it to the club to evict any stragglers.”
“I wouldn’t want to just have a table set aside in the main room,” April said. “I want some privacy and not worry about eves droppers and gossip bloggers.”
“Don’t they have any private rooms?” Sylvia wondered.
“You know, they do have a poker room that’s only used twice a week. I bet they can stow the card table somewhere and set the room up nicely for a private party.”
“There you go. I think you’ll be much happier,” Sylvia said.
* * *
“No, it’s more Asian crap,” the buyer in orbit, Leon, declared. He sounded tired.
“How can you tell so fast?” Mike Morse asked. He wondered if he’d begrudge taking the time to answer.
“The rivets holding the manufacturer’s plate on are the pop sort instead of dome-headed. The real thing has a raised border to protect the logo and numbers from being easily wiped off and this plate appears to be aluminum. The real thing is nickel-flashed brass and engraved very nicely. This looks like it was hand-stamped by a drunk.”
“Wow, they aren’t trying very hard,” Mike said.
“I wonder how many people have even seen a genuine one to compare?” Leon asked. “The one I’m replacing is probably twenty years old. By now, they’re probably making them even cheaper with plastic gears and a sticky label.”
“Do you have another supplier you want me to try?” Mike offered.
“Three others are claiming this item in stock but the closest is Denver. I’ll have other people check them out. There was no sale to earn your advertised fee but I’m not going to stiff you. I’ll send five hundred dollars Australian to your account as a retainer. I’d like to keep you as an asset. This is a regular thing, trying to find genuine parts.”
“That’s more than fair,” Mike said. “Good luck with finding one.”
“I can have one fabricated if I must, but they charge a big minimum in the proto shops. They are flooded with work and short runs just aren’t as profitable.”
“If you have to do that, you might as well have them make a bunch of them to get the individual cost down to a decent level,” Mike suggested. “If you don’t need that many extra you can sell them as equal to OEM.”
“Better, truth be known. Thanks for the idea. Freight down is cheaper too so I might be forced to become a manufacturer just to get the one I need.”
* * *
April had invitations printed and couriered to her guests. To her surprise, all seven accepted. Two accepted with handwritten notes sent back with the same courier. Two indicated they’d bring a companion and the rest didn’t say. Chances were several would consider another invitee as their date. She didn’t get any nonsense from the maître d’, Detweiler, about not billing her as a partner. Even he agreed that expecting an entire private party to be comped would be taking advantage of her partnership. She’d treated another couple a few times and a table of four once. She’d certainly object if another partner started throwing elaborate gatherings gratis.
Jon Davis, head of security was her oldest formal ally. He’d befriended her when she was so young most people would have dismissed her formal request as childish naiveté. She didn’t get to see him nearly enough. Eric Pennington ran the courier service she favored and almost always served her and her partners personally. He was a much-underestimated force in Home’s economy, offering a list of secondary services few appreciated. He also was discreet because word of all their packages and other deliveries never seemed to leak out. She wasn’t sure he’d accept out of a desire to keep a low profile.
Edwardo Muños didn’t get invited for being an ally. He was so carefully neutral in his dealings that April was sure he’d weigh in against her publicly if he felt he needed to. He was so quietly wealthy April still wasn’t sure how far his business interests reached. He did get an invitation because, in addition to being smart and fair, he was one of the few people April considered wise.
Sylvia, Heather’s mom, got invited for lots of reasons of her own but also because April was fairly sure she and Muños were a couple. That was as uncertain and private as all his other activities. They both were behind-the-scenes forces in the politics of Home. Sylvia’s art alone made her interesting and worth inviting. She’d accepted her invitation with a note on an engraved calling card.
Michael Brightbill was sworn to Heather and acted as a planner and scheduler for her projects. The first time April met him she was so shocked her mouth was left hanging open and she stupidly said, “You’re real!” It still embarrassed her to remember it.
Never one at a loss for words he’d replied, “It’s hard to believe a man can be so handsome, isn’t it?”
“You’re the Major Domo in Sylvia’s home entry video!”
“Yes, you’ll find all the trumpeters are real people too,” Michael said. “She dislikes computer constructs. I agree that they always look just a little off.”
April found out much after the fact that both Muños and Jon had consulted Brightbill when communicating with the Earthies. Heather after describing him as a planner had added that he was her Minister of Protocol and Propriety. Like calling Dakota her Minister of Popular Culture there was a kernel of truth behind the humor. It would be interesting to hear what he thought of her little soiree later.
Lindsey Pennington was Eric's big sister and a favorite and protégé of Sylvia. She was an artist with her own style but she and Sylvia were influencing each other and the results were spectacular. April owned several pieces by Lindsey on her walls. She’d had her ups and downs with Lindsey. Mostly of her own making. Lindsey’s chummy enthusiasm had felt invasive of her privacy at times. It was to Lindsey’s credit she never wavered in extending friendship.
April invited Eddie Persico to let him see she was taking his advice on socializing as their long personal and business history. Also, she wanted him to know her rejection of his offer to buy in on starships wasn’t a total rejection of him. He indicated he got far more social invitations than his business life would allow him to accept. She’d see if she rated highly enough to be one of those few he’d accept.
There were two special offerings for dinner or anything the Fox and Hare normally offered for dinner. April let her guests communicate their preferences directly to Detweiler. She suggested dressy but didn’t demand formal. Some of her guests might not own formal and she didn’t wish to be a burden or source of embarrassment.
They were all safe invitations April admitted, looking at the list. It was stressful enough doing a new thing without inviting anyone who might turn out not to like her. It was even safe from conflict between her guests as far as she knew. It wasn’t completely risk-free since she had no idea who her choices might bring as their guest. Maybe in time, she’d have the courage to invite people she just knew as interesting and didn’t count as a friend. She felt oddly excited at the prospect of her party.
* * *
“Send a hundred million of my money to the Spacer bank too,” Alice requested after she heard Vic and Eileen planning.
“That much? But you don’t want to come up,” Vic said. “Unless you are changing your mind? If you want to repatriate your money it may be difficult to bring it back to Earth.”
“It may be but I feel like it is safer up there. If The Day taught me anything it was that everything you know can turn upside down in an instant. That’s running away money in case everything turns to crap here again. I want it far away and hard for anybody down here to get their grubby little hands on it.”
“I think maybe you can get an account in your name right now,” Vic said. “They don’t seem to have any other normal rules so I doubt they care if you are a minor. I’ll ask them.”
“All the better,” Alice said.
* * *
Detweiler had a piece of card stock with neat lettering declaring it a private party hanging over the sign labeling the room as the Poker Pit. He was good at little details like that. April was pleased. In addition, he’d placed a decorative folding screen in front of the door to thwart prying eyes.
April arrived a half hour ahead of her guests so she could greet them. She wore a long light cloak to cover her gown and jewels. The outfit was an old favorite but a bit much for even a nice club like the Fox and Hare.
The main room of the Fox and Hare had a good crowd at 19:30. April hadn’t been in the room when poker was being played so she had no idea what it looked like then. It didn’t have the masculine colors and décor she expected. April was starting to wonder how much trouble Detweiler had gone to for her. It was all crème and light yellow with a few blue accents. That just didn’t scream poker party to her. Maybe it was an active wall covering that he could reset. The long table was set for serving and turned crooked from corner to corner, with a bar set up in the triangle that was created near the entry.
At the door, she heard Detweiler’s assistant, Joseph, say something indistinct followed by a clear “NO! This is a private room tonight. You’re not on the guest list. If you were, you wouldn’t already be having dinner at your table with your husband. I suggest you return there or I will consider you in trespass.”
That suggested Joseph knew this person. April wondered if she’d been a problem for the club before.
“If that’s how you feel, perhaps I should take my husband and leave,” a feminine voice said.
“That is entirely up to you, madam,” he said very neutrally.
After no more action for a couple of minutes, Joseph stuck his head back in the room and looked around. He had a stern expression like he might find someone else with April.
“Nobody here but me,” April said, “and I thank you for that.”
“There is a back way in from the kitchen,” Joseph said. “I wouldn’t put it past her to try to get around me that way. The woman is pushy.”
“She didn’t leave then?” April asked.
“She tried and her husband wouldn’t do it. She went off to the lady’s room and could have accessed the kitchen down the same hall. Thus, my checking here.”
“Thank you. Not everyone has a spine like you.”
“You better have one, or you won’t last long with Detweiler,” he informed her.
He perceived the attempted intrusion had rattled her. “The bartender will be here soon but may I get you something right now while you are waiting?”
“If I start too far ahead of my guests, I’ll be tipsy,” April worried. “Would you just get me a coke with lots of ice, please?”
“Certainly,” he said and pulled out a chair for her. He didn’t suggest she sit but it was a tactful hint to do so. It seemed a good idea and she sat down while he served her. She took the opportunity to look over the table. The name cards were as she directed. The kitchen should have what each would be served by name and place. She let the club handle that directly. April was glad she’d followed Sylvia’s advice and held it here. She couldn’t set anywhere near as nice a table. She didn’t even own cloth napkins. It made her think to grab a few pix of the table with her spex.
“I best get back out front again,” Joseph said and left her.
* * *
“Mike, you are going to get a call from a strange number in the next few minutes,” Leon told him in a text. “I vouch for the fellow. If you’d at least talk to him, I’d appreciate it.”
“Will do. Thanks for warning me, I block strange numbers,” Mike Morse replied. He saved and closed the program he was working on and the call came in.
“MM? Leon recommended you to me. My name is Jack Anderson and I’m currently a resident of Texas. Well, Arizona if you don’t recognize they own it now. I’m a North American citizen. I was in California but got out in the first wave after they got bombarded. For right now it’s easier doing business with Home from Texas than North America.”
“Tell me about it,” Mike grumbled. “I need to work through third parties and can’t bring my funds down here. Eventually, I’ll go to the funds but it’s inconvenient.”
“I’m also going to Home in time, and beyond. But I’m making money here towards that and living much cheaper than I could on Home. I do business with the Homies several different ways. On occasion, I need to have a physical pickup in North American territory and accept things COD. Mostly at the Cape. Are you interested in being my agent to pick up and forward things?”
“As long as you realize I’m not a bonded courier.”
“No, I’m comfortable doing business like the spacers. Leon says you are honest and I’ll trust you on his personal recommendation.”
“I can work with you then. I won’t be available at all hours every day but I’m usually free. If you don’t mind me asking; something caught my ear. You said beyond Home. Does that mean you’re aiming for the Moon?”
“No, well beyond,” Jack said. “Right now, everybody is rushing to design and build starships. I predict that like other trendy business ventures, the majority of them will fail. There will be ships and equipment to be had in bankruptcy at a steep discount. My wife and I are saving everything we can. When there is an opportunity, we intend to go into the exploration business ourselves.”
“Wow, that’s quite a goal. I wish you luck,” Mike said.
“Luck seems to favor those with a solid plan,” Jack said.
“Amen, brother.”
* * *
“Diana my love, would you still like me to come live at Home?” Nick asked from the com screen.
“Sure, but what happened to all your ideas for rebuilding Hawaii and your long-term plans for a political career to enact those ideals?”
“It would seem others don’t share my vision,” Nick said. “It’s sad but they felt so strongly about it they kept trying to kill me. If I stayed, they were going to succeed eventually.”
“If you stayed? There was no lag when you replied. You’re here now, aren’t you?”
Nick looked sheepish. “Well, yes. I wanted to be sure of my reception before I imposed but you caught me out.”
“I’ll have to teach you to fake a transmission delay in case you need to fool somebody. Just how bad is it? Is the house gone?” Diana wondered. “Did they blow up April’s or mine trying to kill you? Don’t worry. If that’s the case we can hardly blame you.”
“No, the houses are safe and being tended by a reliable cousin. However, they destroyed Fancy Dan while I was driving him. Blew a hole through the passenger seat clear up through the roof and left me flipped on the roof like a stranded turtle.”
“Oh well, we knew he was a trouble magnet. The price of a car won’t break me. Don’t worry about it,” Diana said.
“You’ll be quietly reimbursed,” Nick assured her. “It pays to have friends in government and the insurance company doesn’t want to provoke the wrath of their governing agency over the cost of a single ground car.”
“I assume you officially quit but you still have friends who will do you favors?”
“I quit,” Nick agreed, “but I’m being carried on the books and still drawing my salary. I know it isn’t much by Home standards but it gives me a cushion while I find other income.”
“That’s quite a trick,” Diana said skeptically and gave him her disbelieving look.
“I guess technically I’m a spy now,” Nick reluctantly admitted. “But more an economic reporter and interpreter of local opinion. I don’t intend to do any cloak-and-dagger stuff. I don’t know how. I’m sure the powers that be on Home would rather not have anybody looking over their shoulders if you’d keep that to yourself.”
“You might be surprised,” Diana said. “Among other laws they forgot to enact there isn’t any real law against espionage. It’s only if you harm somebody, cause loss of pressure, or have an open flame in the common habitat then they will come after you. If they know you are a conduit to your old government, they’re likely to use you. Of course, there are firm customs that aren’t laws but you had that in Hawaii too.”
“Will you help me learn this stuff?” Nick pleaded.
“Of course, but I think you should come to stay with me. I’m busy every day and it will take forever to bring you up to speed going back and forth to meet and doing it a bit at a time. You will also find other accommodations too expensive on your Hawaiian salary.”
“Is this the promised pool boy job?” Nick asked.
“It’s a holding position until that comes open,” Diana said. “Come on over and I’ll show you how the holding part works.”
“I’d love to. I’m at the South dock. I’m not sure I remember how to get there.”
“I’ll come find you and feed you along the way. Could you stand to have a bite?”
“I’m starved. I’ve just been too nervous to eat.”
“I’ll be there in about ten minutes. Try to stay out of trouble that long.”
* * *
April’s guests all showed up in a fifteen-minute span with no cancellations. Sylvia said that alone was a miracle. Everybody took a drink and once they were all served the bartender pushed the bar back against the wall and left as Sylvia suggested. It was better to serve dinner early than to keep serving alcohol to hungry people. April gave them a reasonable time to finish their drink and gave the high sign to the server watching through the kitchen door.
“We’ll be serving in a moment if you want to find your places,” April announced.
April took a middle seat with Mr. Muños to her right as a gesture of respect. Lindsey was to his right and Sylvia to her left, separated lest they fall into talking shop with each other. The table was small enough for conversations started over drinks to continue even if the people were separated. Being in the middle made it even easier for April to hear. Eric Pennington was across from her and looked more than happy. He looked excited. The young woman with him didn’t look familiar to April but had the appearance of genuine youth not the result of life extension reversion. Then it clicked for April. She was the daughter of that writer, Wilson, and one of Eric’s couriers. April remembered her as being twelve or thirteen years old when they shared a shuttle. She’d grown up a lot. Likely she had a much more responsible position with Eric now.
Michael Brightbill’s wife, Karimah, was on the end at Sylvia’s corner and Michael at her left hand on the opposite side from April. Sylvia said that wasn’t the custom but she did it anyway. Jon Davis was at the other end with Eddie Persico at his right hand and Lindsey Pennington at his left.
Eric’s date, Jenifer, was in an earnest conversation across the corner of the table with Michael’s wife. They both leaned in talking past Brightbill who didn’t seem to mind and appeared to be following the conversation with interest.
Eric was looking the other way following Jon asking if Eddie was ready to come back to work for Home security. Eddie was threatening to do just that and explaining why life was so much simpler when he only had to deal with plain vanilla criminals before Jon sent him off on a political mission. Eddie was laying it on thick, aware of Eric’s interest.
To April’s right, Muños and Lindsey were bent over a pad trading scribbles with a stylus and speaking too quietly for April to follow. Their pairing was the only one April worried might not work. Muños at one time was irritated with Lindsey selling portraits of him as a political figure. That appeared to be forgiven or forgotten.
When she looked back to her left Sylvia was smiling at her. “This is about as good as you can expect a dinner party to work, in case you wondered. All your guests are engaged with people they don’t usually see in pleasant conversation. I’m pleased to see you aren’t trying to direct your guest's conversation or worse, force them to play games. Nobody is angry or yelling. Nobody is dominating the table or drunk and dancing around the centerpiece. You did very well for a new hostess. It looks like most of them took the special dinner you offered too. I assume everybody with the chowder is getting the lobster. Eduardo got the usual dinner he likes here. He never gets tired of it and he isn’t very adventurous when it comes to new food.”
“What is that anyway?” April wondered.
“Turtle soup Cajun style. He’ll pair it with Jambalaya. He likes it blazing hot and swears it is as fine as you could find in New Orleans.”
“It smells very spicy,” April said. “Is it really turtles?”
“Indeed, there is mock turtle soup but this is the real thing, full of herbs. Your face says you have reservations about that but a lot of people feel the same way about a lobster.”
“It is kind of like eating a giant bug, isn’t it?” April admitted.
* * *
The article about her party in What’s Happening didn’t surprise April. People watchers posted comments about seeing her and her guests at the club before. She considered it a social event but this writer cast it more in business and political terms. April thought the author had to be that pushy woman who tried to come in past Joseph. She ran a search on her face and found there wasn’t much posted about her. She worked in Mitsubishi administration for the beam dogs and hadn’t upset other people enough to be roasted in the gossip sites. She did post as Keen Observer instead of her name. That didn’t mean anything. The Your Say column was open to anyone and lots of writers used pen names.
What would she have done if Joseph had let her in? Ask to join the party? Try to interview April? It didn’t make any sense to her. What’s Happening wasn’t a trashy gossip board. There were several of those April despised. She still suspected Ex-President Wiggen ran the board. April could see why she didn’t clamp down on posts that only pushed the edge of gossip like this one. People figured out quickly if a board was censored. At least the population of Home did. April stopped reading and calmed herself. She’d start at the beginning and try to view it dispassionately as if it was written about somebody else.
Saturday at the Fox and Hare my husband and I saw a marvelous parade. It wasn’t part of the entertainment that would start after the busy dinner time. We stayed for that but were treated to this spectacle for free. April Lewis entered without either of her partners or a date. Ms. Lewis is a partner in the club and occasionally graces it with her presence. However, on Saturday the gaming room was relabeled as having a private party and she went straight there. Normally not shy, she wore a thin dark cloak over elegant evening wear. However, she didn’t cover up leaving later. I was interested. A little research found she’d worn this ensemble in public before. Indeed, she wore it to the Fox and Hare before. If I were fortunate enough to have a Frank Fabbri gown, and a few million dollars of diamonds made solely to enhance the gown, I’d get a few uses out of it too. It was lovely black silk with some sort of quilting and mixed seed pearls.
One assumes it was Ms. Lewis hosting since she arrived early. Within minutes she was joined by Jon Davis, the director of Security for Home who looks marvelous in a tux. A parade of other power players followed in short order.
A former security associate, Eddie Persico arrived in a nice blazer but not nearly as formal as his former boss. Persico is certainly one of the ten richest residents of Home.
Edwardo Muños also came in a tux with svelte Sylvia Anderson in hand, lending support to the theory they are close beyond being political allies.
Michael Brightbill and his wife, Karimah, are from the Moon and sworn to the Sovereign of Central. They wore the lunar variant of dressy. There isn’t much public information on Central people. All I could find about him was that he had significant responsibilities managing many of the Queen’s projects.
The well-known artist Lindsey Pennington arrived alone in a minimalist black dress but was followed by her less well-known brother Eric in much cheerier colors. He had a business associate Jenifer Wilson on his arm who didn’t appear to need the support. The young lady yielded nothing to the other women for loveliness in a simple white gown. Eric and Jenifer seem to have an odd collection of minor businesses but if they are associated with these heavyweights they bear watching. If this group collectively decided Home should spin in the other direction it would be done by tomorrow.
So, what might this high-powered group be cooking up? Or were they just having fun with their peers? The club is a rare treat for us to enjoy that stretches our budget. I can’t imagine the cost of a private party and service there. The club workers were remarkably mum about the gathering refusing to even share the menu for the evening.
Taking each statement separately, April couldn’t fault the author for facts. It was the overall tone that bothered her. The jab about spinning Home the other way was silly. One way would work just as well as the other. To April’s mind, it implied they just might make frivolous decisions. The idea there had to be some agenda beyond just having a good time was paranoid. April smiled. For her next party, she’d choose guests that would leave them all totally confused about her purpose.
* * *
“Now, was that worth doing or not?” Eric asked his assistant. “You asked why I give those three such super service several times. See how it paid off?”
“I can’t see any other reason our volume of business spiked this week,” Jenifer admitted.
“People aren’t logical,” Eric insisted. “That piece in What’s Happening did us more good than a video ad tacked on every com message.”
“That would get people’s attention,” Jenifer agreed, “and likely a push out the airlock minus any pressure suit by an angry mob.”
“Well, yeah. Just a hypothetical example. I do know what irritates people.”
“Some of the new business seemed contrived just to meet us,” Jenifer said. “We’ll see if it translates into repeat business. If it doesn’t, it was still marvelous meeting the other guests. I’d never have risked the price to try lobster only to find out I didn’t like it. It wasn’t bad but it sure is a lot of work.”
“A lot of things worth doing are,” Eric told her, “Maybe most.”
Chapter 7
April recounted her party to Jeff and Heather on the Moon.
“Did you get feedback from anyone but Sylvia?” Jeff asked about her dinner.
“There was a guest post on What’s Happening in the Your Say area. I didn’t get any detailed feedback from guests. Eddie said he was glad I took his advice, and that he had a good time, as he was leaving. I was happy with that. I didn’t expect him to comment on the details of seating or menu like Sylvia. It was his basic idea, and he’s smart enough not to discourage me from continuing to implement it by being critical of the details. Jon hugged me and said it was fun when he left. That’s a speech from him. You usually need to ask him directly what he thinks if it isn’t security-related. Lindsey said the dinner was nice and she would send me something before she rushed off. God only knows what that is about but I got the sense it might be a thank-you gift. Eric and his young lady thanked me for inviting them. I was happy to see they both got involved with others. The Brightbills seemed very formal thanking me. I count the whole thing a success. Especially for a first try. Oh, Karimah said I should get Heather to do more social things,” April directed at her.
“I get that from my housekeeper, Amy, at least once a week,” Heather said. “It must be sincere because it would create a lot more work for her. I’d love to do that but we still don’t have anywhere like the Fox and Hare that would host a fancy sit-down dinner. I’d have to host it myself.”
“If you have to do it, I’d go big,” Jeff suggested.
“I could fit twenty in here with a separate bar and buffet table,” Heather said with an inclusive sweep of her hand.
“You have a royal court with a marvelous grand entry portal and three galleries Mo designed just to impress people,” Jeff reminded her. “I think you could fit two hundred in there and not feel crowded. You could serve dinner buffet style down the center gallery to your judgment chamber with seating in the alcoves. There’s plenty of room for live music too. There’s no reason not to make it a ball with that beautiful floor.”
“Live music? There’s room for a symphony orchestra if you want,” April said. “Stick them down a side gallery if you want to fit another hundred guests in the main chamber.”
“I’m not sure I even know that many people well enough to invite them,” Heather said.
“You are the head of state. You can invite officials of other friendly states,” Jeff said. “There are people in the Australian and Japanese governments who have the means and desire to come. The same with the other lunar colonies. The head of the Tongan delegation developing their purchases from you would certainly come with family and underlings. The heads of prominent families like the Obarzaneks who bought land at Central deserve an invitation. No reason not to invite any adults from that group. You may not know these people as friends but you have a relationship with a vast mob on a commercial and political level. Your explorer crews are all party people. They’d be delighted to come.”
“You see to the invitations then,” Heather told him.
“I will, but I’ll ask others to assist,” Jeff accepted. “I don’t want them to be ordinary.”
“I did appoint Dakota my minister of popular culture,” Heather remembered with a grin. “I’m sure she’ll have all sorts of ideas about how it should proceed.”
“I know how you can absolutely delight your mother with it too,” April offered. Her devilish expression begged the question.
“OK,” Heather agreed. “Pleasing my mother, the perfectionist, is always a worthy goal. She often fails to satisfy herself. Tell me how to do that.”
The answer was long and complicated but it left Jeff laughing too.
* * *
“Mike, I have a beam dog, Corey Johnson, returning through the Cape tomorrow,” Jack told him. “He has an open lift ticket guaranteed by Mitsubishi but he’s retiring and isn’t going to report back after he uses up his vacation. Will you meet him in the lobby of the Cocoa Beach Holiday Inn? Once we verify the voucher you can pay him. I’ll deposit the funds in your Home account plus your fee. I’m working on a buyer and may have you deliver it in three or four days.”
“I’m surprised anybody who worked on Home is returning to North America,” Mike said. “Won’t they give him a hard time and try to tax his earnings?”
“You can count on them trying but I suspect he’ll be in another country before the deadline to file taxes for last year,” Jack said. “The man took Home citizenship and paid the hefty fee to drop his North American citizenship. It would be awkward to try to keep him here. Denying passage seems to lead to expensive bombardment. He said his dad is dying and he wants a week with the old man while he still can. He won’t stay long enough to reestablish residence. His mom is already gone so there isn’t much to keep him here. Especially not when they’ll try to take eighty percent of everything he earned if he lingers.”
“I’m going up, eventually,” Mike said, “but once I do, I don’t plan on coming back.”
“Some people never adjust,” Jack warned. “Not just the culture but the limited space and expense of everything. People miss the sky and open spaces. I don’t suppose there’s really any way to know in advance if you can adapt.”
“I’ve moved and lived in different places,” Mike said. “I know those changes weren’t as radical as moving to Home but at least I know I can deal with some change.”
“The same here,” Jack agreed, “but once we put everything we’ve saved into a ship there won’t be any easy way to decide it isn’t for us.”
“I hope that works out for you,” Mike said. “Talk to you soon about the lift ticket.”
* * *
“I’m going to host another smaller dinner but this time I’ll be much braver and invite some people who I don’t count as close friends,” April vowed.
“Oh, too bad. I was hoping to get in on one eventually,” Jeff said.
“You will be invited to one in time, silly boy, but I decided I’d invite the lady who I suspect of doing the write-up of the last dinner.”
“That is radical. Are you sure it was her?” Jeff asked
“Not a hundred percent. If it wasn’t her, she did try to crash our private party and would be shocked to be invited. What are you smiling at?” April asked.
“I’m just wondering if she’ll feel free to write a tell-all article if she is one of the guests,” Jeff said. “She may suddenly develop an appreciation for privacy.”
“If she doesn’t, I should write an anonymous review like her previous piece and darkly hint at what was conspired to do in private.”
“That’s evil,” Jeff said smiling. “I’ll help you compose it so you don’t give away that you are the author by any of your habitual phrases.”
“I have habitual phrases?” April asked. It was more an objection in tone than a question. “Name one,” she challenged.
“You quote lots of pithy old sayings but you abbreviate them all the time. Rather than say: ‘Not my monkeys, not my circus.’ You just say ‘Not my monkeys.’ And expect the other person to know the phrase and mentally finish it for you.”
“OK, you are hired. I had no idea I did that. If I do that, call out the rest of it to make me aware I’m doing it again.”
“If I know it,” Jeff agreed. “Some of them are pretty obscure.”
* * *
The lanky young man with a buzz cut looked around the lobby and headed over to Mike. There was only an older white-haired couple and a young couple with a toddler in the lobby so it was pretty much a no-brainer to ID him.
“Are you MM?” he inquired.
“Yes, you must be Corey.”
“Yeah, Jack didn’t give me your picture to help ID you,” he said sitting in the next chair.
“What we’re doing is frowned on, so the less our pix are out there the better,” Mike said.
“I’m not a USNA citizen now, so I’m not breaking any sanctions,” Corey said.
“I am still,” Mike said. “I can buy it from you but I’d be in violation to resell it.”
“The whole sanctions thing is stupid,” Corey said. He did however produce the lift voucher and lay it on the table in front of him.”
“I’ll have Jack validate this,” Mike said. “I’ve never seen one before.”
Mike took a photo with his phone and sent it attached to a text. Jack verified it was a proper lift ticket almost immediately.
Mike keyed in the agreed-upon price in pay mode and showed it to Corey. He’d front the funds since Jack hadn’t prepaid. Either way, he’d settle with Jack and get his cut. Money was way easier to get in and out of Texas than Home.
“Does that look right to you?”
“That’s righteous,” Corey agreed. It was new slang to Mike but obviously positive. He set his phone to receive and held it close to Mike’s card. His screen got a green frame around it and indicated it was holding the transfer as a wallet.”
“I’ll deposit it when I get to Italy,” Corey said to Mike’s obvious surprise.
“As you wish. Using it for a wallet is like carrying cash if anybody gets control of your phone,” Mike warned.
“It’s a Moon phone. Not much chance of cracking it,” Corey insisted.
“No but the North Americans could just hold the phone and be entirely satisfied to keep you from getting access to it,” Mike said. “It’s not like a criminal individual who would be intent on converting it to their use. That would be a way to punish you but nowhere near as provocative as denying you free passage as a Home citizen.”
“You have a point there,” Corey admitted. “I’ll spend the wire fee after all.” He sat and keyed in a few lines and nodded to himself when it gave him a confirmation.
“Safe in Milan,” he said. “I may have to readjust my thinking to Earth norms.”
“I think it’s a couple of hundred bucks well spent,” Mike said. He felt like a salesman giving positive affirmation after the close.
“I agree, thanks,” Corey said. “I have to get over to the domestic side to catch my flight,” he said excusing himself. He didn’t offer his hand. That custom faded on Earth and Home a few epidemics ago.
Mike sat looking at the lift ticket and took pix of it so he’d be able to compare it to others offered in the future. He might even broker a few himself if he could do so without upsetting Jack. When he stood to leave, he turned and two middle-aged men in off-the-rack suits were standing silently behind him. He didn’t have to ask why; they were quick to tell him.
“Mr. Morris you might sit back down. I’m Sargent Ye-Jun Ku of the Federal Police.” Ku was Asian with a slightly rounded face. “My associate is Jed Sondheim.” Jed was just big. Ku showed his shield to Mike but didn’t provide any more information about Jed. Mike sighed and sat back down, resigned to this not being a brief conversation.
Ku took the seat Corey vacated and Jed stayed standing behind him. Mike figured that for an intimidation tactic to rattle him. It didn’t, it just irritated him.
“We’ve seen your name come up between several people with unhealthy interests in Spacer society. Then it wasn’t any great surprise when we set up a phone intercept to see you are conspiring with this Jack person to deal in sanctioned goods. Let’s talk leniency and possibly avoiding arrest at all by giving this Jack person up to us.”
It was said in a conciliatory manner despite having his muscle stand behind Mike.
“It’s legal to buy a privately owned lift ticket from a Homie for your use,” Mike reminded him. “It’s only prohibited spacer goods to resell for a profit by a North American. Kind of like scalping theatre or sporting event tickets.”
“Indeed, but we saw you conspire in text with this Jack about potential buyers. That would be an illegal act as is conspiring to do so.”
“That’s easy to explain,” Mike said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Jack thinks I’m conspiring with him to sell them later. He’s guilty as can be. Truth is, however, I’m going to rip him off by using his connections to acquire the ticket for myself. I claim free passage to Home. I know you guys have had some very bad experiences denying transits to Home. I imagine you’ve been firmly instructed not to interfere with travel there.”
Mike knew the cop would be running veracity software on him so when the way out of this mess came to mind the only way to brazen it out would be to honestly decide right then to use the ticket that way. It would have been a lie ten minutes ago but it was suddenly true.
If the software showed he did mean it, it also had to show a lot of ambiguous complexities clouding the affirmative reading. Ku knew something was hinky but not what.
“That only applies to an individual in active transit,” Ku said. “It doesn’t shield somebody from immediate legal issues who merely claim they are going to lift in a week or a month from now.” He looked deeply pleased with himself for explaining that.
That meant Mike wasn’t going to be able to go home and get personal items or dispose of his little car. It still beats ten to twenty years in the Federal pen and a fine double the value of the sanctioned item.
“I just got this pass so this is the first time I’ve had the means to be in active transit. It’s a priority company pass,” Mike told him. “I can bump anybody but government officials and shuttle crew for other connections. You can save me the cost of car service and take me over to the Cape if you think I’m going to try to skip out on you and not use it.”
Ku still didn’t believe that was Mike’s original intent but quickly figured out that Mike wasn’t bluffing. He’d go straight into exile from North America rather than face prison. His face lost all the reasonable calm he was trying to project and radiated anger.
Jed, though silent, was watching the back and forth between Mike and his boss. He figured from Hu’s anger that Mike was trying to pull a fast one on them.
“You want me to shoot him trying to escape?” Jed offered from behind Mike.
“No, the paperwork is a nightmare and they’d make us both take all the ROE and respect and integrity classes all over again even if he’d shot you first. It would be almost as bad as cutting him off from going. They’re scared to death we’ll start the Homies shooting at us again if we do that. Let him go join the crazies on Home with just the clothes on his back. It’s so expensive I bet he doesn’t survive up there. In a couple of weeks he’ll be broke and wish he was in Federal hospitality with three hots and a cot,” Ku told his partner.
“Shouldn’t you ask the captain?” Jed asked.
“No. The directives are clear and come from way above the captain. I’d be suggesting he ignore clear orders to even ask, and that isn’t going to win us any points with him at all.”
“We’ll drive you over and watch you get on the shuttle,” Ku told Mike. “But I still want his phone number and where to find this Jack to let you pull this off.”
Mike read Jack's number to them from his phone. “You can call and tell him anything you please,” Mike invited, “but he’s in Arizona. I believe that’s a bit outside your jurisdiction.”
For a moment Mike thought he goaded Ku too far and he was going to back out of the deal. He worried when Ku froze and didn’t say anything for a good twenty seconds. Then Ku consulted his pad briefly.
“Get him in the car,” Ku growled. “There’s a shuttle lifting to New Las Vegas in a couple of hours. He can figure out how to get from there to Home. He can jump and hold his breath for all I care.”
Mike said nothing. He didn’t expect to be cuffed in safe transit but they hadn’t even asked him to turn out his pockets or give them his phone. Surprisingly, they were following an honest hands-off policy. He wasn’t about to tell them he could survive on Home just fine. Let them think he was jumping out of the frying pan into the fire. Now didn’t seem a good time to tweak Ku’s nose. He seemed to take this case personally.
Nothing more was said once they were sitting at the gate waiting to board. The staff looked more upset than Mike after Ku showed his badge to enter the area. Jed was as calm as Mike. He wasn’t taking it personally. Ku had too much emotionally invested and sat glowering until they called boarding. After taunting Ku over Jack’s phone number, he didn’t think they’d let him stop at a teller machine even though he saw one.
Once seated in the shuttle, Mike pulled out his phone and sent Jack a text.
“I’m afraid you need to ditch that phone or switch numbers,” Mike said. “The Feds were on to me and had a mobile intercept on my phone. The only way I could escape arrest and certain prison was to claim free passage to Home. I’m sitting in the shuttle waiting for them to seal up and lift. I couldn’t go home and get any personal stuff or deal with my lease or car. I’m going to send what little funds I have on account locally to your North American account right now before we lift. I’m sure they will be inaccessible from Home. You know I wanted to go up anyway but the timing wasn’t my choice. It’s a shame. I just started a fresh toothbrush this morning.”
That left Jack laughing at his gallows humor after Mike’s sign-off.
Mike’s ears popped. That meant the shuttle was sealed up and he better hurry to transfer his North American funds while he had a local connection.
* * *
“Jeff, I have a paper for you that might explain why the crew of the Constitution retired early,” April said. “Here’s the link if you want to read it.”
April watched as Jeff clicked on it and his eyes tracked the title. He got the strangest expression on his face. He read it again but his lips silently repeated it before he looked up.
“Contraindications for the recurrent stimulus of the carotid body with concurrent gaseous agent therapy to induce pseudoheterothermia? It runs to eighty-six pages. Could you just summarize it?”
“The crew of the Constitution had an implant that fooled the carotid body into activating the mammalian diving reflex in adults. At the same time, they got flooded with a chilled breathing mix that included traces of hydrogen sulfide, a synthetic opioid, and proprietary organics. It works fine but they got sensitized by repeated administrations to the point they slip into a state of torpor from a slight chill without the implant or gas activating them. Their bodies got trained to do this. For example, just reaching in the refrigerator for something and the cold air hitting their face. Then their spouse would find them frozen in place there staring in the fridge and unaware they are in a trance. Another time one went out to start their car on a cool day and lost several hours sitting spaced out behind the wheel until the day warmed up.”
“They became progressively sensitized,” Jeff summarized.
“Yeah, basically,” April agreed. “Kind of like induced narcolepsy.”
“Oh my. That’s a very bad condition for any kind of pilot,” Jeff said.
“Yep. He might be sitting in the command chair with the temperature too low and something as innocent as a sip of a cold drink would tip him over the edge into unconsciousness. It had to be very bad and unpredictable to pull them out of the public eye,” April said.
“That’s too bad,” Jeff said. “I hope they retire someplace blazing hot all year long.”
“Good idea,” April said. Privately, she was pleased with his empathy.
“How did you find such an obscure study that doesn’t mention space or star flight?”
“I just asked Jelly, Dr. Ames, what he thought about the crew using that. It took him a while to respond but he remembered I was interested when he saw this paper.”
* * *
“Glen? Mike Morse here. I’m on a shuttle lifting for New Las Vegas and going to Home. It was either that or face prison and a huge fine. When you check your voice mail go to my place. The door code is 8917. Take anything you can use or sell. I won’t be back. Dump the stuff from my fridge if you would, please. I’m skipping out on my lease but no reason to stink the place up too. Sorry, I won’t be able to have lunch with you Thursday.”
* * *
April considered all the negative feelings and suspicions her first dinner party created in Gloria Swanson. Now that she’d held one dinner party it was far less frightening to contemplate another. She’d use a different club where she wasn’t an owner and wouldn’t invite a single close friend or ally. An eclectic mix of different cultures and economic levels would be fun and sow confusion in anyone trying to over-analyze her. In particular, Mrs. Swanson. April wondered if she’d be brave enough to accept an invitation and even braver to report it. Would she still see hidden agendas if she were a guest?
Gloria Swanson stared at the card in her hand, mouth forming a little O, and eyes wide. She held that pose so long the courier was starting to worry.
“Ma’am? I’m available to convey a message back at no cost to you if you wish.”
“Verbal or written?” Gloria asked. At least she was tracking again to Paul’s relief.
“I can record an audio reply or if you don’t have a card, I have a plain paper pad you may use to reply,” Paul offered.
“Just a moment please.” She disappeared back into her cubic. Paul was paid by time and distance so she could take as long as she pleased as far as he was concerned.
Gloria had a half dozen blank cards for all occasions. She picked the most conservative with a floral front. She wasn’t sure where her husband’s fountain pen was but a felt tip would still give it some character if she pressed hard.
Ms. Lewis, my husband, Anton, and I would be delighted to join you for dinner on the 14th. Thank you for the invitation. – Gloria Swanson
Gloria suspected this was because of her guest column in Your Say. She fanned the card in the air to make sure it didn’t smear and tucked the flap in the envelope but didn’t seal it. Was this a bit of a challenge to see if she had the nerve to accept after writing that piece? It was submitted anonymously so the What’s Happening people didn’t out her. April probably had all sorts of intelligence sources for business. Would she bother to use them to find for something as minor as the author of a gossip post? Perhaps the Fox and Hare people identified her. But that still required that she connect her from the restaurant to the writing. Upon considering it, that wasn’t much of an intellectual feat.
Much more composed when she returned, Gloria handed her reply to Paul with a three-bit tip because that’s all the loose change she had. He would have taken a transfer but she was still rattled and didn’t think of it. Once he turned away, her next thought was: Oh my God, what will I wear? The invitation said dressy casual. What did someone who owned Frank Fabbri gowns consider dressy casual? She wasn’t sure who she could trust to ask. Maybe Eric Pennington’s cute little assistant, Jenifer Wilson. Even if she associated with the same crowd as April Lewis, she seemed to be more middle-class and approachable.
Then, the other question was what Anton would wear. He’d probably think it funny she planned to buy something special for the occasion. His idea of dressy casual would probably be a sweatshirt with his college logo. She’d make sure he at least wore a jacket. Thank goodness he wore them at the employment agency and wouldn’t need to be persuaded to buy one. Getting him in one outside the office would be the challenge.
Marvin Bray was harder to find than Gloria. He’d sold off his two-person apartment back during the housing crisis. It seemed like a fortune at the time. He hadn’t blown most of it but he still wasn’t able to get into a new place. Prices eventually stabilized but showed no inclination to drop as he’d expected would happen.
Nobody was letting their home go right now and demand was still ahead of supply even with zero g residences and another hab built. He was sleeping in hot slots and saving the price of a locker by taking his duffle in the slot with him. He worked for Larson in freight receiving and his boss didn’t say anything about his bringing his duffle to work every morning. It was labeled and he locked it to a conduit or freight rack while he worked. As long as it was out of the way of traffic nobody cared. Some of the people he worked with were pretty rough characters but nobody would mess with a man’s bag.
Usually, he bought his sleep shifts ahead on the hot slot when he got paid but he might not if he was short of funds to eat. He would sometimes let it go unreserved the day before payday. That meant he had no permanent address. Eric’s courier tracked him down at work and refused to leave his message with someone else. Marvin was at his standing desk routing small packages when the kid came in led by his boss.
“Mr. Bray? Private message for you via Pennington Couriers.” He offered a folded card two-handed like he would a business card. “I can take a message back gratis if you wish.”
Larson ran a tight crew and didn’t allow you to waste his paid time on your phone or prolonged personal chit-chat with other workers. It was a reflection of the fact he’d never been a problem that way that his boss made an exception to bring the courier to him.
Marvin read the invitation to a dinner party at the Quiet Retreat with April Lewis. The only connection he had with April was he’d twice gotten payments from her for sending her tips. Since he’d sent her at least twenty tips he wasn’t even sure which tip had prompted her payments to him.
His boss Jeremey was standing watching intently. People in freight receiving didn’t get couriered messages every day. As far as Marvin knew the last occurrence was – never.
“Please tell her I accept,” Marvin said and slid the card in his pocket.
The young man repeated, “You accept. I’ll convey that, thank you.” He turned on his heel and left, not waiting to be escorted out.
“Come on. You aren’t going to tell me what’s going on?” his boss asked.
“April Lewis requested the pleasure of my presence at a dinner party,” Marvin said.
His boss roared with laughter but was a good sport.
“You’re right. It’s none of my business. If her pal the queen of the Moon is there, tell her that her old friend Jeremy says hi.”
Marvin smiled. “I’ll be sure to do that.”
He got right back to work but he was thinking about who he could take with him.
Ziad Ghoussoub, otherwise known as Cheesy, examined his invitation carefully and decided it wasn’t any kind of practical joke. April was one of his regular customers, the sort that he started their order when they came in the portal. The frequency of her visits had dropped off the less she flew orbit to orbit shuttles but she still liked her cheeseburgers and it gave the business a boost to have a celebrity visit.
“Casual,” Ziad read off the invitation. “I guess that means I better put on a clean apron,” he told the young girl delivering the card. She just looked bewildered. If he had to explain it was a joke then it was better just to move on.
“Please inform Ms. Lewis I’ll be there with a guest.” That got a nod of understanding without any awkward questions. His current helper could handle the business that late in the day without any help. He’d been with Ziad for almost a year and knew the routines. That late in the day he was usually prepping for the next day and starting to clean up. At worst, they’d have to do a little extra work the next morning. There was a regular customer who always chatted with him who might consent to be his date. He knew she was unattached. Maybe she let him know that for a reason. If she declined, he wasn’t sure who he would ask.
Chapter 8
Dave, of Dave’s Advanced Spaceship Services, rolled his welding helmet back and glared at the young girl his secretary brought him asking for Mr. Michelson. Once the courier was delivered, his secretary retreated to the office. He was showing the new welder how to keep pushing the rod into the melt puddle after pulling the TIG torch off. The residual heat kept melting it for a heartbeat until it froze with the wire still stuck in it. The rod was then brittle right at the weld and you could just snap it off. The advantage was that there was no shrink mark around the weld. It would clean up so nicely that you couldn’t tell it was repaired. It was just one of the hundreds of little tricks one acquired with years of experience. Dave didn’t just work at his shop; it was his life.
“Yes, what is it?” Dave barked more harshly than was necessary. He hated interruptions.
Eric’s couriers didn’t always deliver messages that were desired by their recipients. She didn’t flinch or apologize. She stepped close enough that Dave didn’t need to get up.
“Personal message from April Lewis and I’m to return a response if you wish.” She was holding the card out double-handed.
This was out of the ordinary enough to give him pause. April rarely left a message for him on com but never by courier. She and her companions were responsible for a great deal of his work even if it was usually arranged through various underlings. He took the card and read he was invited to a dinner party. His immediate reaction was to reject it. He had more things to do than there were hours in the day to do them. He was, however, intelligent enough to realize April probably had similar business demands on her time. The card in his hand said she found this social event important enough to make time for it. It would be easy to offend April by implying social things had no value. More to the point that her invitation was an unwanted distraction. His social skills were weak but he correctly suspected there was no nice way to say that. The expedient of begging off with a lie about other obligations would never have occurred to him. He was a compulsive truth-teller.
There was also the fact his wife might find out he declined. She constantly tried to get him to limit his work day to twelve hours and come home at a regular time. One might wonder why he bothered being married since it interfered with his shop time. Wife one had been to please his mother but now it was part of his self-image. He suspected his third wife, Adele, was getting so tired of his absence that she might soon go the way of wives number one and two. It was only because there had been a brief lull in his work back when Home moved out beyond the Moon that he’d found time away from work to meet her. Unless some disaster interrupted his business again, things looked pretty bleak to ever meet wife number four.
The courier was surprised at how long Dave stared frowning at the card, weighing all those factors before he replied.
“Yes. Inform April that my wife and I will be attending.” He tried to give the card back to her but the courier held her palm up and refused it.
“The shop floor is not a safe place for visitors,” Dave said. “I will walk you out.”
“Cut a cube of steel and practice putting a ball on the corners before you do the actual workpiece,” he ordered his worker. “I’ll be back after I see her out and call my wife.”
* * *
Mike Morse checked the price of rooms at New Las Vegas. They were more than the price of a shuttle ticket for Home. That ticket cost almost a quarter of his North American dollars he had on him in cash for a ticket on the Larson Line shuttle to Home. For that sort of money, he’d try to sleep on the shuttle. If he was tired enough, he could sleep sitting up even if it was noisy.
During the three-hour wait, he walked around the business level of the habitat and found the Bank of America listed in the directory. It was in a tiny cubby hole about the size of his bedroom back home. The single employee had no customers and was happy to advise Mike.
“If you wait to convert the rest of your North American dollars it’s going to be much harder on Home,” the fellow warned him. “There are some private speculators who deal in dollars and euromarks. But they’ll give you horrid exchange rates. You won’t even be able to buy lunch on the Larson shuttle with North American dollars. We are required to take them on New Las Vegas by the hab charter and we have a branch and teller sharing agreement with your bank. I can convert them for you.”
“Can I get them changed to solars?” Mike asked.
“We have to take dollars but the same North American connection also means I can’t deal in solars at all.”
“What can I do then?”
“I’d suggest you swap them for Australian dollars. They’re one of the Earth currencies generally accepted on Home. Both Banks will accept them and issue you solars. It’s not going to seem like much at the local prices.”
“I found that out already,” Mike said. “When I get to Home, I do have an account with the Private Bank of Home. It’s just living in North America, I never got a bank card. They aren’t legal to possess and of course, Home banks have no legal presence where I could use one even if I’d smuggled it in.”
“Oh! You’re golden then. I can issue you a check in Australian dollars and the Private bank of Home has a teller machine about two hundred steps down the corridor. As long as you know your account number and log on, you can deposit the Aussie money or pull solars. You might regard this as the banking border. Both systems have a presence here but won’t work directly with each other.”
“Wonderful. Do the whole balance please,” Mike said and gave the fellow his cash. “I’d like five-hundred cash if you have it, and the balance in a check to deposit.”
There was a cashier’s check fee, and a ten percent fee for the currency swap but Mike bit back any complaint. It was a risky exchange for the bank so they should protect themselves. He was far better off than just an hour ago.
* * *
“Here, you need to decide if you want your Home account to be by name or numbered, and if you have sole access or can include others,” Vic said.
Alice hesitated to take the offered phone.
“What did you do?” she asked.
“I want Eileen to have it if anything would happen to me. Ours is a joint account with a password and you are named as a beneficiary.”
“Why would you give it back to me?” Alice asked. It seemed to upset her.
“If we’re dead, truth is there isn’t anybody we care about as much as you,” Vic said. “Those who wouldn’t just blow it on stupid stuff are already well-to-do. A lot of others have no sense. They couldn’t handle it and it would just bring trouble to their lives.”
Like Tommy, Alice thought but was nice enough not to say so out loud. Giving it to Pearl wouldn’t help. It would be the same as giving it to Tommy.
Alice reluctantly took the phone and sat reading how to set up the account. When she was done, she gave the phone back.
“I did the same. It’s in my name with you guys as beneficiaries for the same reason. The password is The Day, with both words capitalized.”
She didn’t understand when both Vic and Eileen burst into laughter.
“It’s just that we picked the same password,” Vic said. “I guess it was life-altering and defining for all of us. You still need to write it down somewhere. Maybe in your journal.”
“I can’t imagine forgetting it,” Alice objected.
“What if you get smacked in the head and have a brain injury? People forget how to walk much less their passwords. The strongest memory is weaker than the palest ink,” Vic quoted.
“That sounds like something from a fortune cookie,” Eileen said.
“Oh, my goodness. I forgot all about those,” Alice said. “My dad always opened those things and read them in a put-on serious voice.”
“Just because it sounds cheesy doesn’t mean it isn’t true,” Vic warned her.
* * *
“Would you be willing to make some period costumes from a video?” April asked Cindy and Frank. “It’s not a rush job. You’d have a couple of months but it needs to be hush-hush because it’s part of a surprise.”
“When would you be able to bring the actors by to be measured?” Cindy wondered.
“Half are on the Moon,” April said. “It might be easier to take a day trip and measure them there.”
“Frank could do that,” Cindy said, volunteering him. “If he does that, I’d ask Lindsey to come in a day. If she’s not part of it, we’d be better off telling her what’s going on than being all mysterious and exciting her curiosity.”
“OK, here’s what we’re planning,” April told them.
* * *
The shuttle shocked Mike Morse. He expected something about as comfortable as an intercity bus. The sort where he carried spray cleaner and paper towels to clean the tacky gray seat before he’d touch it. Instead, it put his early memories of first-class air travel to shame. Not that that hadn’t degraded. First-class meant a hypersonic now. Regular subsonic planes were regarded as little more than cattle cars by the wealthy.
His seat on the Larkin shuttle was in an individual pod. It might not be fully sound-proof but it muffled noise from the other passengers and afforded a good measure of privacy. A little window in the corner of his screen even allowed him to know if the restroom was occupied without getting up to see.
The data connection was no additional fee and was wide open to Home, Beta, the lunar colonies, and Tonga. That surprised him. He experimented and found he could access Australia and Japan through them. He was about to explore these newfound riches when he noticed a single-line banner ad at the top of the screen. It was so polite and unobtrusive that he almost didn’t see it.
Home Employment - Connecting businesses with workers for 78 years.
At the end of the blurb was a box button that said, “CHAT.”
Mike clicked on that, dubious it would work when they had just left Earth orbit. It was an eight-second delay and then a young lady in a very expensive spex smiled at him.
“I see we’re dealing with a bit of a lag. Please be patient. My name is Myrtle Shore. Are you seeking to hire or looking for employment?”
“Employment. I’m Mike Morris. I had to leave North America rather… abruptly. I have nothing but the clothes on my back and some cash. I have an account at the Private Bank but no other attachments to Home. My understanding is it’s an expensive place to live so I’d like to get a job and some income going before I run my funds down.”
“We have a labor shortage. It’s easier for me to find employment than employees at the moment. I’m sure I can find you something. What are your areas of experience, Mr. Morris?” Myrtle asked.
“I was semi-retired, living in Florida. At one time I had a pizza business there after operating a similar business in the Chicago area before selling it. Recently, I’ve just been an independent facilitator, finding goods or services for others. Sometimes acting as a courier to deliver those goods. That can be challenging in the current North American economy. I might fit in purchasing, expediting, or hiring. I’m familiar with independent restaurant operations from top to bottom.”
“If you have four to twelve million dollars, Australian, I have several ongoing food and entertainment businesses looking to acquire another partner,” Myrtle offered. “Home has no legal structure for corporations, partnerships are the commonest form of business. I don’t believe there is a franchise restaurant off Earth except for the New Las Vegas McDonalds.”
“I’m afraid my cash worth is, uh, less than a half million Australian,” Mike admitted.
“Do you have expertise in purchasing electronic components or knowledge of pharmaceutical distribution and storage?”
“No, my experience runs more to construction materials and consumer goods. Earth-style goods at that.”
Myrtle’s eyes could be seen scrolling down her monitor.
“Can you manually prepare a pizza?” she asked. “There is some automation of the base process but it then needs manual detailing of toppings. You will prepare to the customer’s custom order in a tight time frame. It is twelve hours on, twelve hours off, Thursdays through Sundays on the half-g level. It is a business expansion of an existing entertainment venue, not a stand-alone startup.”
“I could do the work easily,” Mike said. “However, in the areas of North America with which I’m familiar that job won’t pay enough to live independently. It’s usually something young people do while living with and being subsidized by their parents. Is it very different on Home?”
“It may be challenging to budget at this wage level but I know of several people who are living on less. I’d advise getting an account at the Mitsubishi-supported cafeteria and clinic. That will moderate your expenses. Although the job does provide as much pizza for personal consumption as you wish. If I may suggest, I have a young gentleman who will provide a one-day introduction to Home and take you around to show you how things work for a thousand dollars Australian. He also brokers older spex and will set you up with local com and show you some housing options.”
“What is the cash compensation over and above all-you-can-eat pizza?” Mike asked. There was only so much pizza you could eat before becoming sick of it.
“Oh, excuse me, I got sidetracked on the other thought. It pays eighty-five thousand dollars a month Australian. Of course, you have three days a week off. You might consider doing day work. Day work may well pay a higher rate than pizza making. Labor is in short supply and day work is often urgent and gets bid up.”
“That’s insane,” Mike said. “That’s a million bucks a year to make pizza. How can they recover my wages? Are they selling thousand-dollar pizzas?”
“Not at all. Currently, there is one pizza restaurant over in zero g housing. But he often runs mid-week specials on a personal size deluxe for two hundred dollars,” Myrtle said. “I’ve ordered that for myself and found it a good value. You can pay that much for a specialty burger and fries. If you don’t wish to run down and get it when the zero-g housing shuttle docks, you have to pay a courier to pick it up for you. That will add another fifty dollars. We do suffer some price inflation with Earth goods, but we get a lot of food from the Moon now. It helps keep costs down. It hurts us more for things like coffee and chocolate than staples.”
Mike was decisive. If he didn’t like the job or his boss he could quit.
“I’d like to interview for the job and start Thursday if hired. It’s too late today to set up an interview, I’m sure. That will give me three days to interview, have your fellow give me the nickel tour, and settle in.”
“I got the manager on a local call already. He requests you join him for lunch and interview in person at noon tomorrow. He said he’d do it now but he hates trying to hold a conversation with a big lag. Is that agreeable?” Myrtle asked.
“Yes, if your guide will get me there as part of his orientation,” Mike agreed.
“I’m sure that will be easy,” Myrtle promised. She nodded and signed off.
Mike looked at the planned arrival time. If he could get a good nap on the shuttle, he should be able to avoid hiring a room until after his interview and orientation. He might look a little rumpled and would need a shave. Buying new clothes might take too long. He reclined the seat, sealed the pod, and put some soft music in the headrest speakers. After all the stress of the day, he was genuinely tired and sleep came easily.
* * *
“That can’t be right,” Eileen said. Vic had just startled her with an explosive “Huh?” When she stopped reading and asked what upset him, he’d just turned the phone for her to read. It was the statement for their new account at the Private Bank of Home. She immediately felt a pang of fear that something bad had happened to their funds. She took the phone and read carefully.
Last month they’d deposited a hundred and fifty million Texan dollars in Chase and converted it to Australian dollars at three to one. The currency exchange fees left them with forty-nine million six hundred thousand Australian dollars. A very helpful fellow at the bank, Irwin, explained that to have money instantly available they wouldn’t get any interest paid on it. That seemed more than reasonable. Chase Bank N.A. charged them a tenth of a percent a month to maintain a checking account from which they could draw on demand.
If they allowed the bank to invest the funds with a ninety-day withdrawal delay they got a variable interest that changed each month. If they wanted a guaranteed rate of interest the bank had to buy insurance to protect itself and set the rate low enough to be sure they didn’t lose money. The same variable terms applied to one-year and five-year deposits but the longer they tied it up the better the return. Historically, that is as long as the bank had existed, it beat fixed rates with a variable return that was adjusted each month.
Vic decided to keep four million six-hundred thousand available on demand. Another five million was available on ninety days’ notice and the remaining forty million he tied up for a year. If they wished to set a longer investment period Irwin said they would have to sit and discuss that with him. He’d expect them to explain their goals and come to a consensus about what sort of investments they approved and he’d formulate a custom product. Vic decided he didn’t know enough about long-term international investing to speak about it intelligently with his banker. He might end up sounding like an idiot. Eileen certainly didn’t feel she knew more. So, he was happy trusting most of their funds for a year to Irwin’s expertise.
The account statement informed them that they earned a little more than seventeen thousand dollars on the ninety-day-funds. What surprised Vic, and now Eileen was the monthly dividend on the forty million was three hundred thousand dollars and change.
“Why not just call and ask Irwin if that’s right?” Eileen asked. “I mean, it’s the honest thing to do. If somebody fat-fingered it, better to know than keep waiting to see if it’s discovered and debited. If you went to a teller machine and it gave you too much money you’d report it to the bank, not hope they never noticed.”
“I’m glad you think so well of me,” Vic said. “I’ll do that. Pull a chair over and I’ll set the camera on wide and put the speaker on. We’ll both talk to him.”
“Good morning, Irwin, do you have a moment to answer a question?” Vic asked.
There was a pause while the message got to Irwin and back.
“It’s near dinner time here and I’m thinking about going across the corridor and getting some supper, but I have time to talk to you,” Irwin said. He leaned back in his chair and his relaxed pose said he meant it.
“We just read the statement on our accounts, and our one-year-call deposit earned three hundred thousand Australian. Is that a correct figure?”
Irwin reached off camera and they heard a few keys click.
“That’s right. Three-hundred four-thousand, two-hundred and forty-two, rounded to the nearest dollar.” He looked worried. “What was your concern? That’s a rather good dividend on the average. You’ll find some months it may only be a hundred thousand but on rare occasions, it may be a little more.” He tapped a few more keys and the Foys waited silently through the lag.
“The last time we paid more was March, two years ago,” he informed them.
“We thought it a bit high too,” Vic said in a huge understatement. “We won’t expect it to always be so much.”
“That’s good. I was afraid you were disappointed. Is there anything else I can do for you today?” Irwin offered.
“No. We won’t hold you from your supper. Thanks for talking to us,” Vic said.
“Anytime,” Irwin said with apparent sincerity. “Irwin out,” he added so they didn’t have to wait through the lag to be sure he was done speaking.
“I never thought to ask him what their historic dividend rates were,” Vic said. “If we bought a three-year CD with Chase, they’d give me about two percent. I never expected our interest to come anywhere near covering inflation in Earth accounts. It has never done that since I’ve been old enough to be aware of such things. We don’t know what their inflation rate is. I wish I’d asked Irwin that now. Does anybody up there even try to track it and publish it? That may be another one of those things that they have no government agency doing. Would the bank have the sorts of assets needed to track price inflation?”
“How could they if nobody is compelled to report their private business?” Eileen asked. “At most, you could track publicly posted prices. Shouldn’t we be asking what Australia’s inflation rate is? That’s whose currency we’re holding in our accounts. Maybe we should have asked more about getting some solars. Irwin offered them too but didn’t push them once we showed interest in the Australian dollars.”
“Ask him another time. I’m sure he’s gone for his supper and I’d hate to call him right back knowing that,” Vic said. “I don’t think it will change value so fast we need to call right back. We’ll have time to diversify to solars if we want.”
“He was so careful in explaining everything,” Eileen said. “I can’t imagine he wouldn’t have warned us if Australian dollars were a rapidly depreciating asset. I mean… they’re not like euromarks. I suspect we’re making more money now than I could ever reasonably spend.” Her expression said the idea was hard for her to accept.
“It’s a lot more expensive to live up there. We’ll see if you can’t rise to the challenge of spending it,” Vic teased.
“I remember as a kid my mom always wisecracked about my one aunt on my dad’s side,” Eileen remembered. “She engaged in what mom called recreational shopping. She had stuff hanging in her walk-in closet with tags on them she’d never worn. Whenever she got a little depressed, she’d go shopping until she felt better. I never thought of it as a child, but that had to be rough on my uncle. I don’t think Home apartments have enough room to live like that.”
“I’m sure they have charities and you can donate things to the poor,” Vic said. “Your aunt must have done that or just thrown things away. Even big Earth-style walk-in closets only hold so much.”
“I’ll try to find if Home has charities online. There’s so much I don’t know. Just like we had no idea about their lack of banking laws. Do they even have poor people?” Eileen asked.
“I can’t imagine they don’t. I think that’s just a part of human society. There are always those who make bad decisions or have an injury or illness handicap them. Then some people are just allergic to work. The difference is probably that being poor there means trying to struggle along on forty or fifty-thousand dollars a month.”
“I can see that,” Eileen agreed, “but just like the bank statement, it still sounds crazy to me.”
Chapter 9
April consulted with Michael Brightbill again. “Are all six trumpeters available to pull our prank or do I have to find somebody to fill in?”
“All of them thought it was a wonderful idea. They were all paid to pose for Sylvia’s entry video and are happy to do it for free if they can just keep the uniforms and join the party after the guests have all arrived. However, three of them now live at Central.”
“Do you know if they still have the trumpets?” April asked. “If Sylvia is storing them someplace, I can hardly ask her. Maybe Heather would remember.”
“I’m sorry but the trumpets were dubbed in by CGI just like the uniforms. Sylvia gave us all a piece of aluminum conduit to hold so we got the arm positions and posture exactly right, but there were never any real trumpets,” Michael told her.
“Oh, wow. Now I will have to research trumpets. I’m sure it’s going to be complicated.”
“The pitch of the trumpet depends on its length,” Michael said. “I’d just make them look like the ones in your video and play the fanfare from the recording. They can go through the motions just like lip-syncing a song. It’s too much to expect them to become proficient at playing anyway. You’d have some off notes spoiling the scene for sure.”
“OK, that’s easier,” April said, relieved. “Any decent proto shop should be able to print me six lightweight shiny horns.”
“And my tipstaff,” Michael added. “That was computer generated too. I was holding a piece of conduit just like the trumpeters. Make it heavy and sturdy so it will sound right. The horns we can fake. Nobody will be able to tell if they are blowing them but I’d never be able to time cracking the staff on the floor to match your sound track.”
“Right.…” April made some notes on her pad. “This is far more complicated than I ever envisioned.”
“Isn’t it always?” Michael asked.
* * *
“You suggested taking online classes to catch up on your interrupted education,” Victor reminded Eileen. “I think that’s an excellent idea. You thought I should take some classes too, but I’m having trouble figuring out how to make sure that would be helpful. I have a Bachelor’s in Agricultural Management. My dad thought it would be good for me to live away from home for a couple of years and see how people live in an urban environment and how they view ranchers. He had no illusion I needed to be taught how to be a rancher.
“They had a program at the time that gave us a big break on the expense because I came from a traditional ranch family by their definition. Dad was right. It was an eye-opener. I learned a lot about people but very little about ranching. Most of their ranch business bachelor of science degree was generic skills you could apply to run any business. They assumed you were going to be an administrator of a huge corporate ranch and supervise the people who get their hands dirty. How you can tell somebody how to do a job you couldn’t do yourself is a mystery they never acknowledged, much less explained. Very few of my fellow students grew up like me, getting up before dawn to do my chores and then having more waiting for me when I got home from school.
“If I’m going to spend the time and money to buy some more education, I’d like to know it’s going to be more practical than that experience proved to be. I’m past needing exposure to a different culture that I’ll admit I needed as a young man.”
“We’re finding out it’s a different culture for sure,” Eileen agreed. “More than I ever imagined back when I decided I wanted to live there. I’m not sure there’s any way to learn a culture other than immersion. I keep reading they have a general labor shortage. The trick as I see it would be to find out very specific skills that are in short supply and if any practical programs teach those skills.”
“They must do a lot of their own training,” Vic decided. “How could you teach working without gravity or in a space suit down here? Yet they must have some criteria about what sort they are willing to train. It would be more like vocational training. I see that Earth training to be something like a banker would be useless since they don’t do things the same. But being something like a welder must take a lot of the same skills.”
“They must recruit,” Eileen agreed. “But I wouldn’t expect them to draw on North American agencies now, with all the sanctions and historic bad blood. Where should I look?”
“They use Australian dollars so readily they must do a lot of business with them. They need to be able to spend them on something,” Vic reasoned. “Let’s look at Australian employment agencies and search for space jobs.”
Eileen tapped in a search and got more hits than she expected. One agency had twenty-nine space positions listed. She opened their site and scrolled down to the descriptions.
Aerospace construction technician, vacuum rated:
Trans-lunar assignment. Continuing expansion and auxiliary facilities for the Beta habitat partnership.
Training position. Ninety-day apprentice try-out with travel vouchers and a $300k Australian signing guarantee. Pass or fail within ninety days.
Compensation: Bonus and six-month extended contract for those showing aptitude. Possible continued contracts and advancement depending on performance.
Duty shifts: Twelve hours, four days on, and three days off is the normal cycle. No intoxicants 24 hours before scheduled work starts.
Qualifications: Athletic ability and stamina for vacuum work. Good spatial thinking Ability to follow detailed safety procedures consistently. No sensitivity to zero g space illness. Willingness to maintain very short hair and no facial hair. Fastidious personal hygiene to share pressure suits and shift bunking. No impairing addictions or chronic transmittable disease. Pass medical exam including full body MRI. Excellent English skills. Ability to learn hand signals and sign language. High level of manual dexterity, no corrective lenses or powered medical devices. Ability to work with written instructions and assembly drawings. Hiring preference for those experienced in aerospace fabrication, military divers, dive welders, and technical divers. Iron workers for steel frame buildings, tower workers, power line workers, master riggers, gymnasts, and ranked parkour artists. Higher rates and shortened try-out periods for previously experienced beam-dogs and orbital iron workers. Lift tickets and an abbreviated medical exam for workers signing a new contract within six months of our previous employment.
Male/ female. Twenty-four-year-old minimum. No continuing North American or Chinese citizenship or obligations. No zivies or stinks.
Compensation and Benefits: Premium pay and increases with demonstrated ability. Quiet bunking and personal storage space are provided. Laundry services and medical care. All meals and a limited free entertainment venue. No local taxation. Minimum ten-million-dollar-Australian life insurance for the contract period. Disability and catastrophic medical are available at cost.
“Wow… “Eileen said, drawing the word out. “If you published that for a North American job, they’d lock you away for an ableist in a heartbeat. I think there are at least four hate crimes implied in that list.
“It’s amusing,” Vic agreed. “I can see human resources departments fainting away in horror upon reading this. Being merely human I don’t qualify for the position.”
“It does sound like they are trying to hire some sort of super-hero,” Eileen said.
Vic scrolled slowly down the list. Some of the jobs were so technical he wasn’t sure what they would do. What was a medical technician familiar with advanced VNP-KRA protocols and statistical analysis all about? He resisted the urge to waste time doing side searches. It was clearly nothing about which either of them knew anything. If you didn’t recognize the acronym you didn’t qualify.
“Let’s narrow our search,” Eileen suggested. “See if there are any employment agencies on Home itself.”
That produced two sites. “We Can Do It” listed as Main Business Corridor/ full-g, and “Private Recruiters,” which they suspected might be a single-person operation with a door number and level designation but little other information.
“The first place sounds more like a serious business,” Vic said.
Indeed, they showed more than a dozen categories of jobs including positions on Earth representing Home companies. They listed three hundred forty-two positions open.
“I don’t know how to start to narrow that many down,” Eileen admitted.
“Let’s go the other way,” Vic said. “I’ll start very narrow and expand it little by little.”
Vic typed in the search bar, “Rancher/Farmer.”
“As if…” Eileen said skeptically as Vic entered the search. Followed by an astonished, “Damn….”
Vic spread his hands in a theatrical gesture, obviously tickled pink with himself.
The screen couldn’t be denied. It said:
Beef Rancher: Contract 230184
Familiar with all aspects of small cattle operations and breeding including support skills such as pasture management, growing appropriate lot feed, and silage production. Ability to handle common health issues and treatments without veterinary support. Introduction of operations to an extrasolar planet with varied ecological systems. Support of a supervisor doing botanical investigations as able and other secondary duties. Unpredictable hours and on-call off-duty hours for emergencies. Limited R&R visits and supply from Central for a one-year contract. Extra consideration will be given for the ability to work with swine. This is a hardship position with limited onsite recreation, supply, and medical resources. Serious illness or injury will be treated by evacuation. The candidate must integrate and work closely with a diverse small research crew in a remote location. Must follow direct orders of the exploration and survey crew in command. Must be able to follow stringent biological isolation procedures. Male/ Female and physically able to deal with large animals and normal agricultural activities. English language skills. No North American or Chinese citizenship or continued obligations.
Compensation: Base salary of $2M Australian for a one-year contract. Private room and bath in an atmospherically sealed facility typical of remote research stations. Potential for continued advancement and longer contracts depending on the viability of the project. All meals and a personal mass transportation allowance are provided. Award of one percent of the planetary profits in perpetuity split among the early survey and development team if the project proves to be viable long term. Incentive grant of no more than one percent of the dryland area as an individual bonus.
“Extrasolar planet?” Eileen asked. “The North Americans found that inhabited planet but there hasn’t been anything in the news about anybody landing on a habitable planet. I was under the impression none of the starships are big enough to haul landing shuttles.”
“Ummm…?” Victor pursed his lips and made an inquisitive noise. “Aren’t you the lady who told me how useless the news services are and how they have presented misleading or outright false stories about Spacers?”
“Well, yes. But I don’t see why they’d want to hide this happening.”
“I’d question if they are even trying to hide it,” Vic decided. “Unless you mean the news services. How many people do you think will do the search I just entered? If any journalists still investigate things, they are easily discredited amateurs, doing it for the love of it. Professionals read the scripts handed to them by whoever controls their paycheck or licensing. Do the North Americans intelligence agencies even monitor job offerings? I can easily believe the Earth side of this is just being oblivious. As far as the Spacers, just because they didn’t call a news conference and make a big announcement doesn’t mean they’re trying to hide it.”
Eileen understood suddenly and was horrified.
“You mean they simply don’t care if the Earthies know one way or another?”
“Exactly,” Vic confirmed. “I’m sure they could have searched quietly by private agents if they wanted to keep it secret.”
“What are you smiling about?” Eileen asked.
“That you haven’t been up there yet but you are already calling us Earthies.”
“Well yeah. Guilty as charged. But please tell me you are going to look into this, aren’t you?” Eileen asked.
“It isn’t a Home job,” Vic pointed out. “Are you satisfied this serves your purpose of getting off Earth?”
“Oh, yeah. I figure once you have just about any space job on your resume you have your foot in the door to apply for others. If anything, I’d think anything extrasolar would have extra status in the future. I can’t believe they need something you already know.”
“Sure, but don’t get your hopes up too quickly,” Vic cautioned.” They may want somebody who can get there and start working faster than I can, or they may not be willing to have me bring you along.”
“That’s a condition?” Eileen asked.
“For a one-year contract? You better believe it. That’s a hard deal breaker if they reject you,” Vic insisted. “I’d miss you and you’d go nuts thinking of me being up there ahead of you, where you want to be. You could call every day if it was Home but not another star.”
“You’re probably right. I’d resent the hell out of it. But I’m sure I can do something useful for them to justify accompanying you,” Eileen said.
“They mentioned botanical research. You’ve been very successful with our kitchen garden. Maybe they will need somebody to try raising Earth plants on this world.”
“I’m so glad we got this money,” Eileen said. “If they’re interested in hiring us, we can afford to buy lift tickets and not beg for our transportation or an advance.”
* * *
“I’ve never seen such different prices for pizza toppings,” Mike Morse said examining the menu board. “Is anyone going to pay forty dollars for anchovies or olives and thirty-five dollars for double pepperoni? Fresh mushrooms were getting to be pretty expensive when I was in the pizza business but we still charged a straight ten bucks for any toppings. I’m surprised you can still match that price here. I’m pretty sure it’s more than that now in Florida.”
“You haven’t bought a pie there lately to know?” his new boss, Martin, asked.
“I’m too critical,” Mike admitted. “Also, I ate so many no-show pies for years that I had my fill. The few times I got a taste for pizza since I made it at home to my own standards.”
“All our sales are pre-paid so you get very few no-shows,” Martin said. “The high-priced toppings are all expensive because they are from Earth. The bacon is a little cheaper because we buy it as pre-cooked crumbles and a little goes a long way. The peppers we get freeze-dried and reconstitute them. The ham and sausage are the same cost as pepperoni.”
“Oh, freight costs,” Mike understood right away.
“Yes, and the cheese, onions, and mushrooms are cheap because we get them from the Moon. Pretty soon we’ll switch over to the Moon for our flour, and they swear they’ll have pepper varieties soon. Those savings may let us keep prices the same. The cost of Earth goods goes up pretty steadily.
“Is your sauce imported?” Mike wondered.
“It was the first week. They grow plum tomatoes on the Moon and we are now contracted with their cafeteria to cook our tomato sauce with Moon-grown herbs in it. They have a slow period on their off shift when they can do outside work. We’re able to get a hundred liters a week.”
“The employment lady mentioned this is part of the club I came in through. But I got the impression it was a fairly new thing. How long has it been open, and are you carrying the whole thing yourself?”
“Just shy of two months now. I’m only running it from ten hundred hours until oh-twenty-two hundred. With you working noon to midnight I’ll keep it open until oh-two hundred hours.”
“You’re going to try to work a sixteen-hour day?” Mike asked.
“Not straight through,” Martin said. “I’ll come in and set up the dough machine and fill the sauce reservoir and toppings. I’ll help you at the noon and eighteen hundred rushes, and relieve you at midnight. I can catch some sleep between times or catch up on my paper work and ordering. On your days off business is slower. I’ll revert to the short hours.”
“That still sounds extremely hard.”
“I’m gene mod,” Martin said. “I only need about three hours of sleep. Any of the locals would have figured that out because it’s fairly common now.”
“Thank you, I’m so new I haven’t picked up all the ‘everybody knows’ stuff yet.”
“You’ll pick it all up soon enough. What I’d like to see now is for you to make me a standard four-hundred-millimeter pie. Pull the drawer there open and it will tip down. The formed dough will slide down to the work surface. The sauce sprayer may take a bit to get used to. It comes out pretty heavily. The cheese spreader works just like a salad shooter. Everything else is by the measuring scoop except the pepperoni.” He pointed at another drawer. “It comes on a waxed paper sheet like labels. Top it like you’d make it for yourself.”
* * *
“Here’s a sketch of how I’d propose lining the entry,” Mo said. “It’s all to scale. I’m glad I made the entry huge. We can reproduce the appearance of the portal in Sylvia’s video as a split shell. A half side will roll down the corridor on a cart easily. When we fit them in together, we’ll have little tabs to align them, and then wedge them together from behind.”
“Oh, that’s lovely,” April gushed. “Will it be real wood planks? It looks like it might be kind of heavy.”
“Not only would it be rather heavy to wheel around the corridors it would be over three hundred kilograms to lift from Earth. That’s even building it hollow to simulate the beams. I’d much rather see you waste a couple of solars lifting coffee or good whiskey than heavy oak planks that would only be used this once. We might recover some of the expenses by selling the material to decorators or hobbyists. It could be used as wall covering or for furniture but there are limits to how much combustible material can be in residential cubic.”
“What will it be made of then?” April wondered.
“Structural foam laser etched to match the grain of real wood and colored to the same image. You could lean on it without denting it or rap on it with your knuckles and think it wood. It would stand several years of wear as something like a tabletop. It’s overkill for our application but it looks gorgeous up close. The cheap stuff they usually use for architectural applications looks cheap if you get a good close look at it.”
“Good, because it wouldn’t surprise me to see Sylvia inspect it closely. She’s an artist and when she sees something she likes, she immediately wonders how it was done.”
“It’ll be obvious it isn’t a holo,” Mo promised. “We have too much moving around in front of it to do that.”
* * *
Vic insisted Eileen sit on camera with him when he called the employment agency.
“I’m not going to invest a bunch of time getting them interested in hiring me only to find it was wasted effort when they are informed that we’re a package deal.”
“We Can Do It” had a very functional website. It detected Vic was connecting with a satellite phone and immediately offered him a choice of formatting for mobile devices with various screen sizes or larger monitors. There were no language options, Eileen noticed.
After picking the larger monitor to which he had his phone connected, and requesting an agent, it positioned the chat video on the center of the screen with a modest site banner and a halo of menus arranged around it with fonts sized to be legible. They didn’t have to suffer a countdown waiting for someone to be free to speak with them. A young man appeared on screen after about ten seconds, thanking them for calling “We Can Do It” and introducing himself as Warner Stutz. He had on spex set clear and was leaning back in a high-backed chair.
“Speed of light lag,” Eileen said to Vic. “This is going to be awkward.”
“I’m Victor Foy and this is my wife, Eileen. We’d like to speak to you about contract number 230184 you have listed on your site.”
The pause was very noticeable to them until he reacted.
“Yes, the rancher contract,” Stutz said. He didn’t lean forward to use the keyboard or look down, so Vic guessed he was working through his spex. Vic had the call set up not only to include Eileen in the field of view but the kitchen behind them with the wood stove and the tree-covered hills outside the window. Stutz’s eyes gave away that he found that interesting as Vic intended and was scanning it in detail instead of just looking at them.
“Would you like me to upload a resume to you?” Vic offered. “I have one-page, two-page, or twelve-page versions available.”
“I’d be happy with the one-page version and a few questions we were asked to put to any applicants. I’m seeking basic information to set up an interview with the principals offering the contract. Your connection is censoring your location. I can see you are on Earth if that’s not a green screen behind you. Would you mind telling me from where you are calling?”
“I don’t think you need to pinpoint us to the meter,” Vic said. “We’re calling from our home in Northern California. I’m uploading the one-page version.”
Stutz looked disappointed.
“Did you notice the position isn’t available to North Americans?” he asked.
“I don’t believe that will be a problem. We’re both citizens of Texas,” Vic said.
“My error then,” Stutz admitted. “I was aware Texas annexed Arizona and New Mexico, but I had no idea they had expanded into California.”
“Include at least some of Nevada,” Vic informed him. “As far as I know, the situation with Southern California is still complex. The North Americans hold an area around San Diego and elsewhere Mexico may be asserting ownership too. I don’t entirely trust any of the news sources I can access.”
“Thank you for the assessment. Give me a moment to read your resume.”
It didn’t take long for him to read Vic’s resume but his eyes stopped tracking like he was reading and then he was speaking with someone. Rather than drop the video or explain why he needed to speak privately, he simply covered his mouth with his hand.
“Are you able to speak right now with one of the sponsoring principals and the fellow who would be your primary supervisor?” Stutz asked when he got back to them.
“Yes, please, put them on,” Vic agreed.
The screen split showing a middle-aged Caucasian man and a younger coppery-skinned Asian. The window with the employment agent shrank to a tiny icon in the bottom corner. The split windows were conveniently labeled Robert Ennis and Jeffery Singh.
“Good evening, or I guess good morning for you,” Vic said. Which of you would be my supervisor and which is his boss?” Vic asked.
“Points to him for not assuming,” Ennis said laughing. “Which of you is the rancher and which one is the boss?” He asked, making Singh smile too.
“What a dangerous question. This is my wife, Eileen. I’m the one familiar with cattle but I’m not about to comment on our family dynamics. Running a ranch has a lot of different hats to be worn. I may be the principal executive, but I tread very lightly in the kitchen and other areas where she is boss.”
“He’s a diplomat too,” Singh observed. “I represent the funding partnership for whom Bobby here works. I have equal partners in April Lewis and Heather Anderson. If you notice a little difference in the lag, I’m speaking to you from Home, and Bobby is at Central on the Moon. Most of the preparations for a return expedition to the world we call ‘Prairie’ are being done on the Moon. That world is the operational site for the contract being offered. I’ll let Bobby lead your interview since he’d be your immediate supervisor.”
“I see you have a Bachelor’s in Agricultural Management,” Ennis said. “Do you have actual hands-on experience with cattle or just the technical training?”
“I grew up on a working ranch and had chores involving cattle and other facets of running a ranch before and after school. College was almost entirely about the business aspects of a ranch or farm. I’m not sure some of my classmates graduated with a sound understanding of which end of the cow got fed and which end had to be cleaned up after. The assumption seemed to be as a manager one hired hands to do those sorts of tasks.”
“You must have family photos,” Bobby guessed. “Can you send us an assortment that shows your operations and pictures of you with actual cattle?”
“Sure, you’ll see I was involved when I was much younger from our family pix. Although you should know I haven’t raised any beef since Eileen married me. Economic conditions haven’t favored the risk of raising them even before the strike on the California coast we call The Day. That probably still won’t happen here until we have better transportation available. Texas just recently asserted themselves to actively govern here. There is still no gasoline or diesel for sale to the public. The economy is so bad locally that we are still under a tax moratorium for the county. So few people have cash-paying jobs that it would be a hardship to remit them.”
“What sort of operations are you doing if you aren’t raising beef cattle?” Singh asked.
“Little better than subsistence farming,” Vic admitted. “We keep chickens for meat and eggs. We trade in feed and have a substantial surplus of potatoes. There is a market festival in the spring and fall where we trade surplus items off the ranch. Things are just returning to normal enough that we will have a mini-bus service to Reno when the passes are open in the spring. The Texans are just now getting the roads open and safe. That’s how I’d plan to get to a shuttle if you hire us. If you need us there next week it’s not going to happen. However, leaving Earth is our long-term goal and we’d appreciate being kept in mind if this doesn’t work out but something else comes open later for our skill set.”
“And what is your wife’s skill set if she hasn’t been involved with cattle raising?” Bobby asked. “You aren’t available solo?”
“No, I’d never accept a year-long contract away from her. We’re a team. She has all the skills of raising a kitchen garden, preserving it, and cooking it to feed us. She has business skills and management skills from trading at our fairs, hiring and supervising neighbors, and helping me decide how to manage our funds. There are still dangers to living here due to isolation and lawlessness. We gave shelter to an orphan, but I wouldn’t leave her behind with that young woman alone. They are both armed and decent shots but it would be too tempting to some to assume they were an easy target without a male living here. Sorry if that offends but that’s how some folks think.”
“Thank you for explaining your circumstances,” Bobby said. “They’re so different from ours that we needed to be informed. If your long-term goal is leaving Earth that is a positive. A lot of people don’t adapt to the different culture and return to Earth.”
“We’re aware things are very different. We’ve been doing as much research as possible to do online. We saw how different the business environment is when we opened a Home bank account. We both want to be able to buy life extension therapy. It was impossible when we lived under North American law and I’m still not certain we could have the full package done with current Texan law. I’ve thought it better not to ask or even search for it online. We haven’t tried to hire Texan legal advice to find out the details of Texan regulations. Better to go where we know it is permitted and the law is unlikely to be changed leaving us in a precarious position.”
“You are aware LET is fairly expensive?” Singh asked him.
“We’re not poor but we’d rather have employment secured before committing to move. To start burning through our funds without employment seems unwise. We might be tempted to accept less than ideal circumstances out of desperation.”
“Do you know how to raise swine?” Singh asked.
“I’ve never kept pigs but I’m willing to study the available literature and attempt to raise them. I’d bring all the literature I can find to buy on all sorts of animal husbandry. My understanding is that pigs are so hardy they keep themselves, to the point of becoming a nuisance if some escape and go feral. That’s rarely a problem with beef cattle.”
“I told Singh and his ladies I’d accept an assistant who was bright enough to lay sod green side up,” Bobby admitted. “I’m certain that leaves your wife overqualified. If your references and the requested images are satisfactory, I’d have no trouble adding your wife as my assistant on the return expedition. She’d have to lend a hand at whatever needs to be done just like the rest of us. I’m not above helping the cook if I don’t have other duties.
“We’re about six months away from being ready to return. We’re fabricating habitats for isolated islands on the planetary surface and gathering supplies. Part of that are various Earth plants to test. Her gardening experience should be valuable there. It sounds like you should be able to leave your area and arrive here well before we leave to return to Prairie. The time until we leave would be valuable to learn specific duties and get to know the rest of our team. I also need to find out what equipment you’ll need to bring along. I’d suggest to Jeff, Mr. Singh that is, that it would cost a little more to house a couple than a single team member. What do you think, Jeff?”
“That sounds reasonable to me. I’d ask you to forward your larger resume and the supporting photos I requested in the next twenty-four hours.”
Jeff was still frowning unhappy about something and Vic couldn’t read him well enough to know the nature of the problem.
“However, I’m offering the two-million-dollar contract for your expertise with cattle. I’m sure there are savings to had in providing for a couple as Bobby suggested. Nevertheless, I feel it’s fair to offer Eileen a separate contract for the same period of only a million dollars Australian for her lesser skills.”
Except for one slow blink, Vic managed to keep a poker face. He even managed a slow thoughtful nod as if he was considering it.
“That seems entirely reasonable to me. I expect both of us to please you and be considered assets after you come to know us better. I’ll forward those documents to you through Mr. Stutz in a few hours,” Vic promised.
“That sounds good. Singh out here,” Jeff said so they didn’t have to wait through the lag to be sure he was gone.
Bobby Ennis wasn’t fooled. Vic’s single slow blink was a glaring tell to him. He was pretty sure the Foys would have both come for the cost of Victor’s contract. His single thoughtful nod was that of a man composing himself because he didn’t trust his voice just yet. There was no reason to tell Jeff. It was certainly too late to withdraw the offer and it would just make Jeff feel bad that he could have been a better negotiator. If Bobby had to work with Eileen, he suspected she’d be a much happier co-worker being paid a million dollars Aussie than riding along for free. Jeff could afford it and Bobby certainly didn’t begrudge them the money. He hadn’t run verification software on the Foys and Jeff hadn’t said if he intended to do so. If he did, the emotional spike after his offer might have left Jeff wondering if Vic came close to turning the job down over his lesser offer to Eileen. He wasn’t about to tell Jeff that exactly the opposite was true.
Mostly, he hoped Vic’s credentials checked out. Particularly the documentation of photos that couldn’t be easily faked. The sooner Jeff consulted with his ladies and offered the Foys a contract the sooner he could start picking Vic’s brain for what the next expedition would need.
* * *
Nick was on the com looking for employment. When he let out a deep sigh Diana looked up and made sure he was aware she’d heard his frustration.
“I’m sorry to say there’s not a single job posting to hire an experienced politician or revolutionary.”
“Have you searched for Pool-Boy or Cabana Attendant?” Diana teased.
“There are a couple of entertainment venues that seem to offer equivalent positions,” Nick said. “They’re very tactful in the descriptions but they seem to have beam dogs and construction workers as their primary customers. I’ve seen similar ads for private clubs in Hawaii that describe the position as companion support or the old standby of escort services. I’m afraid I don’t qualify for those jobs. I’d have to spend months in the gym or the beam dogs would laugh at me.”
“Oh, dark clubs,” Diana said with a knowing nod. “Most of them are just a plain door on a corridor with a number and no name. You must be sponsored by an existing member and checked out ahead of time to apply. The fanciest have a stiff membership fee just like an exclusive country club and you are given a pass card to enter. You don’t just knock on the door and expect to be welcome.
Nick was scandalized but confused.
“I thought almost nothing is illegal, so why do they keep such a low profile?”
“Just because there’s no law doesn’t mean there’s no custom,” Diana said. “People know there are always going to be low-lifes and rowdies. That doesn’t mean they want them in their face when they walk their family down the corridor. There were a few people who thought anything goes when we dumped North American law. They got invited to meet before breakfast in the north corridor and bring seconds when they offended public propriety. That sort of behavior got curtailed pretty quickly.
“Lots of Home businesses need planners and managers who understand how to hire and fire. People who can schedule work shifts and keep their people motivated and on point. You need to be smart for those jobs. Don’t aim too low doing grunt work or serving the public. A waiter or freight handler may make decent wages but it seems to me you are overqualified for those kinds of positions. They should be delighted to have you.”
“OK, office manager, scheduling supervisor, start-up administrator, sales to Earthside customers,” Nick read aloud as he checked off the offering. “I’m glad you have confidence in me. I suspect a lot of people would say I’ve never held an honest job for wages where I could be fired if I don’t perform.”
“This is going to be much easier,” Diana predicted. “Being fired is no big deal. Nobody here is going to kill you over your job like your last one.”
Chapter 10
“I’m expecting our rocky islands to have little soil, since there isn’t any grass there to stabilize it,” Bobby said. “We’re going to bring a shredder to reduce grass from other areas to a pulp. We’ll use that to add organic matter to what sand or soils we do find. There are several strains of bacteria living in the plants. They may be beneficial or not. We’re trying to determine if any of them are nitrogen-fixing. As an alternative, we’ll have a cooker to sterilize the mulch we make and try with Earth plants. We’ll keep the two kinds of added organics on separate islands until we see what works. We’ll also inoculate some native organic material with Earth bacteria. Hopefully, something will work.”
“Isn’t it going to be difficult to keep from cross-contamination when you visit each of these sites?” Heather asked.
“It is,” Bobby agreed. “We’re going to fuse a bare landing pad on each site. Both when we take off and when we land, we’ll spray the landing pads to kill any clinging contamination. We’ll wear high-top plastic boots and spray them at the same time. If we need to be in actual contact with biologically active plants or soil, we’ll wear paper suits and discard them in a burn barrel before entering the shuttle or aircraft.”
April raised her eyebrows at that.
“Aircraft? As distinct from our landing shuttle?” she asked Bobby.
“If we could take an aircar along it would be much cheaper and more convenient than using a landing shuttle between islands. There are groups of smaller islands in easy aircar range of the large primary island you suggested would be our base.”
“I’d agree,” April said, “but I want to survey the ocean around those islands by sonar and by chumming. If there is anything like a shark or other predator I want to know before I have an aircar ditch and find out what’s there by being bait.”
“Sounds like we’ll need another specialist, a Marine Biologist,” Jeff said.
“Just find out if there is anything alive in the oceans,” Heather said. “If there is, we can worry about hiring someone to catalog and classify it on a future visit.”
“OK, I’m adding a net, fishing pole, and tackle to my equipment list,” Jeff said.
“I’m not nearly so subtle,” April admitted. “If they are anything like Earth fish a decent-sized explosive charge will bring them floating belly up.”
“What if there’s a sentient race of aquatic aliens?” Jeff worried.
“And not have artifacts visible on the surface? I doubt that. We might still look like lunch to them. I’ll agree to go with sonar first. If there are any sentient natives they better come up and tell us to cut out all the racket.”
“OK, net, pole, and a castable fish finder,” Jeff agreed.
“Maybe a radio-controlled toy boat to tow the fish finder,” April suggested.
Bobby didn’t say anything. He thought they were all nuts but it made it very interesting working for them.”
* * *
Vic was gone when Alice came in from her chores, Eileen broke the news to her that they might be leaving as soon as they could travel. Likely when the new bus service started.
“I had no idea you might be leaving so soon,” Alice said.
“Neither did we, but if they make us an offer it’s an opportunity we’d be stupid to pass up,” Eileen said. “Vic sent them an expanded resume and images they requested early this morning. This isn’t something we’ve been sitting on not telling you. We first talked to these people just yesterday.”
Alice looked distressed.
“I don’t mean to sound all needy but I expected to have more time to get ready to own the property. I hoped to let Titus know I expected to own the ranch someday and slowly bring him around to the idea he should propose to me. I don’t even have a way to contact him quickly. I didn’t want to seem too eager and scare him off.”
“You can still try to be subtle with him. I certainly wouldn’t tell him about your winnings. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Honey, but any commitment to Titus is in your imagination at this point. It’s based on a positive but very brief reaction to meeting you. Don’t read too much into it. You may have to be the one to propose if subtle doesn’t work.”
Alice looked stricken but nodded her agreement.
“You better get used to the idea you’ll be owner sooner than you imagined. I’d suggest maybe you hire Tommy and Pearl to be live in help so you aren’t living here alone,” Eileen suggested. “They’ve always enjoyed their time here away from her dad. I bet they’d go for a long-term arrangement. The problem might become how to graciously end their employment if you can get Titus to come on board later. If he’s got his heart set on being a deputy it may be another year or two before commuting to the next county becomes practical.”
“Do the Texans even have an office in place to transfer land?” Alice asked.
“Vic says he can give you a quit claim deed that the county liaison can record even if they don’t have land records set up yet. I know they are recording births and deaths reported to them so they might,” Eileen said. “We’ll ask them.”
“What if you hate it up there and want to come back?” Eileen worried.
“Alice, you’ll own it. If we wanted to come back, we’d have to find a place to live and buy it. We certainly have the funds now. I’m not even sure we’d come back to this area if we did that. We’d have all of Texas to choose from.”
“If you decide to come back just ask me and I’ll give you a lot for a house on the road,” Alice decided. “You’d be good neighbors.”
“Tell Vic that. I don’t expect it to happen but it will make him feel good to hear your offer. Now that you mention it, that might be a good way to discharge Tommy and Pearl on good terms. But if you keep breaking off lots, I’d limit it to along the road. Otherwise, you could end up on a house-sized lot yourself. It’s not like you need to sell off land for the money.”
“I’m going to miss you,” Alice said. “I’m not going to say anything to Tommy or Pearl until you leave.”
“That’s smart not to do things until you think them through but Tommy and Pearl may need time to consider such a big move. You could be risking they will find another place to move to, now that he has the postal job. But do think about how you’ll present it and how you will compensate them. I think it will take more than room and board now.”
Alice got up and hugged Eileen. She wasn’t normally a hugger but she was rattled and anticipating a loss. Eileen let her, offering what comfort she could. It wasn’t going to be easy for Alice. Eileen just hoped she had the maturity to deal with it after they were gone.
* * *
“I’m still getting accustomed to life on Home,” Nick admitted. “Just about the time I think I’ve seen everything that can culture-shock me something new pops up. I’m fortunate I have a friend who not only has given me a place to stay but is helping me get acclimated to living here. We’re both from Hawaii so she’s very aware of what the old normal is for me.”
“Most bail out by the six-month mark if they can’t hack it,” his employment interviewer, Monica, said. “Some people might be hesitant to hire you for a position that requires a big investment in training if you haven’t been here a while. You should consider taking day work or short-term contracts until you’ve proved yourself at least that much. You might find you’ll have better opportunities offered to you then.”
“And that won’t get me type-cast into menial jobs?” Nick asked.
“Our labor shortage seems to be perpetual. That means there is very little regarded as menial. Menial is automated or a way found to farm it out back to Earth. If a job is boring it may pay more than an interesting job to induce someone to do it. People tend to be advanced to the most difficult work they can handle because of the worker shortage. If you can’t handle a job, it won’t take long for them to tell you. It isn’t like the developed nations of Earth, where it’s so hard to fire someone, they just keep them on and put them off out of the way in a lateral move. We can’t afford to do that. Especially anything safety-related. On a habitat, just about everything is safety-related. Real stupidity is rare and ends up expensive as hell if not dead.”
“Tell me a couple of short-term jobs like that,” Nick invited.
“I have a pharmaceutical company offering a minimum of three twelve-hour shifts on consecutive days starting tomorrow packaging vials of drugs, one gross to a box. They are sticky bottom vials placed in holes in foam sheets. They get reboxed on Earth depending on the country importing them and the language required for the labeling. It’s zero-g work. If you are prone to space sickness you can take anti-nausea drugs but I’d advise you just to skip this one. This job comes up once a month and often goes an extra day. It pays two-thousand dollars Australian for the twelve-hour shift and they bonus you a gram Au if you stay until the full reactor load is packaged.”
“Reactor load? Is it radioactive stuff?” Nick asked.
“No, it’s a biological created by culturing a genetically modified bacteria and then separating the protein it produces. The yield is better and undesirable by-products are reduced by being cultivated in zero-g.”
“It seems to me that would be one of the jobs that would be automated,” Nick said.
“It would be more efficient to filter and process the full tank and send it down on a shuttle. The finished product is only about fifty liters. The problem is that several countries have regulations against importing drugs in bulk that way. Supposedly that’s to protect local jobs. It doesn’t make any sense when the product can’t be produced locally, but good luck trying to get a regulation removed once it is in place.
“The station cubic is too valuable to leave a packaging lines set up to use three or four days a month. Switching an automated line between products is difficult and time-consuming too. That sort of packaging equipment is normally custom-built for the specific product. They have had trouble getting Earth firms to build them to work well in zero-g too.
“You can manually package this sort of product using about thirty cubic meters and there is very little to do to switch over to using the volume for other work. You’d be working with a technician supervising the bottling machine and taking away the filled cartons. You need to wear gloves and a hair net but no respirator. I should warn you it requires a high level of activity to keep up with the workflow. If you take too many bathroom breaks outside your half-hour lunch break, they will drop you for the next day. Some people have had problems with repetitive motion injuries. They tell you strategies to minimize that but you need to pay attention and consciously apply their advice. They offer similar contracts most weeks but I wouldn’t recommend signing up for consecutive weeks.”
“I can see that would drive you crazy doing it full time. I think I could deal with it once or twice a month,” Nick said.
“Indeed, it’s very demanding and your performance will drop off if you try to do the job too long. That’s why they break it up and only hire out one run of product at a time.”
“Would you tell me one more job offering before I have to accept one?” Nick asked.
“Certainly. I have a Friday and Saturday job open indefinitely. Those are their busy days and the kitchen help can’t keep up with the dishes. It's from 1400 to 2300. You’d be kitchen help at a local club called The Quiet Retreat. It involves hand-prepping dishes for an automatic dishwasher. They are very fussy about not allowing any residue on the cleaned dishes. We still occasionally have people who wear lipstick and the machines won’t remove it. You need to stack the cleaned dinnerware and glasses by category in the racks that feed through to the service area. There are some lunch dishes to catch up on cleaning when you first report. On occasion, when you catch up you may be given prep work for the cooks. It pays a hundred ten dollars an hour Australian. You get whatever the evening special is in a lunch portion but you only get a twenty-minute guaranteed break to eat it. You do get paid for that time though. At the end of the work shift, you are offered up to two meals of whatever was prepared for the day. You have your choice of leftovers after the wait staff with the other kitchen workers and before the bar workers and management or local charities. You can take them as is in a returnable thermo-pack or leave them in the store freezer to be picked up later.”
“That’s a lot less money,” Nick said
“It’s on the half-g level. That’s much easier working conditions and less travel. Most of these jobs are second jobs people do after their primary employment. If they don’t have a business or a much better-paying job, they may hold down two or three jobs like this to make ends meet. The meal bonus is easily worth three or four hundred dollars Aussie each. You won’t see me eating at The Quiet Retreat. Not unless my boss takes the whole crew there as part of our annual bonus. If you don’t want to eat that fancy meal, you could easily take it frozen and sell it. I’d give you a hundred dollars for anything they cooked without even asking which menu item it happened to be.”
“I don’t mean that to be critical. It’s just hard to absorb all at once. It’s strange not to see all the required disclaimers about discrimination that are half of a job ad on Earth. I’d bet anything even selling that frozen meal would be illegal in North America. I know most restaurants can’t give their daily leftovers to charity over all the regulations.”
“Don’t forget you aren’t paying income tax or sales tax on your pay either,” Monica said.
“I believe I’ll try the dishwashing job, if they’ll have me,” Nick decided.
“They’ll have you,” Monica said. “I’m authorized to send you on my judgment. If they will keep you is up to you. If you show up a half hour early this Friday, they will demo the job and pay you extra for it. Here’s a map with the kitchen entry highlighted. Tell anyone in the kitchen you are the new dishwasher and they’ll get you started or call the manager.”
“That’s it? I don’t have to fill out a job history or have a criminal background check?”
Monica looked amused. “Things are so different here nobody cares about your Earth history. It means as little as your Earth credit rating or social score. You may get extra points for being a Hawaiian rebel, but I wouldn’t brag about sticking around and becoming a politician. Folks are liable to lump you in with other politicians they’ve known.”
* * *
“He’s the real deal,” Jeff admitted. “The academic stuff doesn’t impress me but he couldn’t have faked all the pix of him with his parents and the aging of everyone. He even has a sense of humor. After the way we labeled our pix to him his first old photo to us had a hand written notation on it identifying which was the boy and which was the cow. I have no doubt the details of him at fairs and the 4H things in the pix would all check out too. It’s too much to fake in a month much less a day. I’m not going to waste the time of our intelligence people trying to find records to verify them. They were probably destroyed in the collapse of California. The data centers were looted if not destroyed.”
“If you haven’t noticed it yourself, I’d like to point out that he and his wife don’t seem to hold a grudge about all the disruption and hardship April bombarding Vandenberg created for them,” Bobby Ennis said.
“You’re right,” Jeff said. “It never occurred to me that might be a problem. It’s so easy to assume you are on the side of the angels and everyone else should know it too. If it comes up I’ll be forthright and show him the records of them shooting at me.”
“You’re going to offer him the contract then? I’m anxious to start planning what he’ll need to bring for supplies. Given his situation, I don’t think he’ll be able to bring much personal equipment along.”
“They’re going to work under you,” Jeff reminded him. “You can have the joy of starting to manage them right now. You can inform them we’re making an offer and send them our contract to sign. First, show him enough data about the world so that he can make an informed decision. Don’t bother me unless they have a question you can’t answer.”
That would have sounded harsh from anyone else but from Jeff, it was just time management and Bobby wasn’t offended by it.
* * *
“I’m going to start with a part-time job to kind of ease into working here,” Nick said. “Don’t think I’m setting my sights low and be disappointed in me.”
“That would be pretty hard to do,” Diana said. “I had some relatives on Earth who managed to be professional students well into their forties and never did hold a real paying job their entire lives.”
“How did they live?” Nick asked.
“For most of them, it was some variation on mooching off their parents or grandparents. A few managed to do that until their parents died and they could then live off their inheritance. One nephew, Isaac, I know for a fact had three doctorates and still spent all his parent’s money, sold their house, and mooched off friends. The last I knew was living on the beach. God only knows what he did to eat,” Diana said rolling her eyes. “Maybe he gave surfing lessons or stood on street corners with a begging sign. I never saw him doing that or cleaning windshields. He was disinvited to family gatherings because he always tried to find somebody else to mooch from, so I haven’t seen him for years.”
“I guess that’s hard to beat for sleaziness. I’m going to wash dishes and be kitchen help at The Quiet Retreat.”
“That’s a nice place. A little pricey but I’ve managed to be treated to dinner there a few times. They must treat their people OK or I’d have read about it in the gossip sites.”
“I won’t get home until after midnight,” Nick warned her.
“If I go to bed early, I’ll leave a blanket on the couch. You can come in without banging around and waking me up, can’t you?”
Nick was smart enough to know there was only one answer to that, without hesitation.
* * *
“Jeff? I need to talk to you about the beef project and the Foys,” Bobby looked concerned and tired.
“Which is a problem? The project or the Foys?” Jeff asked.
“The scope of the project. Victor has a clear vision of how to proceed but it’s going to be expensive. He has been very creative in minimizing costs by suggesting methods used by what he refers to as hobby farms. There are surprisingly small, low tire-loading tractors and small mowers from Japan. He only projected bringing three calves. A major cost item turns out to be the plastic film to store silage. It’s expensive and nobody off earth makes an equivalent. I didn’t realize it was possible but Vic intends to bring cultures to inoculate the cut grasses in case the native bacteria don’t naturally ferment them. The bill for equipment and supplies is going to run over fifteen million dollars Australian.”
“Yes, plastic film and some other plastic products have been a problem for us,” Jeff admitted. “I’m not sure how we are going to deal with it. We don’t have the source or scale to start our own production yet. Maybe we’ll find a planet that has petroleum.”
“Doesn’t Titan have a methane atmosphere?” Bobby asked. “Why not drop a plant on the surface to make long-chain hydrocarbons from the methane?”
“I’m making a note to look into it,” Jeff said.
Bobby waited until he had eye contact again to go on.
“The only problem with the Foys is that if we abandoned raising beef over the cost, I’d hate to lose them now that I’ve seen what assets they’ll be. I swear they could give lessons to some Homies on avoiding Earth Think. That young woman is remarkably sensible. I was surprised at the questions she asked from our photos and report about Prairie.”
“How many other uses come to mind for a planet called Prairie?” Jeff asked. “I feel it would be immoral and short-sighted to just plow it up and turn it into a big cornfield without trying to find uses for the native plants. Let me worry about the money. We’re not broke yet,” Jeff told him. “Fifteen million is not a large sum to develop a planet and try to make it productive. If this doesn’t work, we’ll find something else. An entire planet must have some use to us. This is just the first obvious effort. Barak may be obsessed with raising beef but there are plenty of other uses. Don’t forget it will be several years gathering information before we have another big investment in things like farm machinery. That will only happen if we can see a clear path to large-scale profitability.”
“Yes, the testing of Earth plants and studying the native grasses are going to be much less expensive,” Bobby said. “Eileen may turn out to be a better bargain than Vic.”
“I notice you haven’t tried to quantify your return on our investment,” Jeff said.
“I’d rather not toot my own horn,” Bobby objected.
* * *
“We’re formally being offered a contract,” Vic said. “Let’s have a simple supper to save time and sit and read it this evening very carefully.”
“We can read it in one evening?” Eileen asked. “How many pages is it?”
“Seven pages single-spaced and a normal readable font. Bobby apologized that most of their contracts are one or two pages but this is a rather complex undertaking. It’s much smaller than the reports he gave us on the world. I admit I had to skim some of them.”
“No wonder they don’t have lawyers,” Eileen said. “There can’t be any money to be made generating seven-page contracts.”
“It’s worse than that,” Vic assured her. “I said we might have to consult a lawyer here, and I was assured it is in plain English with no obscure legal terms.”
“Eileen already has everything prepped for supper,” Alice said. “I’ll help and do the whole clean-up so you guys can read your thingy.”
“I have a question,” Eileen said after they’d read in silence awhile.
“OK, where are you?” Vic asked.
“Page three almost the middle. It says we are entitled to a share of one percent of the income generated from the development of the planet and can pick a plot of land approximating one percent of the planetary dry land area. They reveal the primary exploration team all get the same shares but it is not a system share like their previous system discovery. I’m wondering if I have a similar share. It doesn’t clearly say each.”
Vic sat pondering it for a few minutes.
“I have to say we kind of forced them to hire you. Maybe they don’t consider you one of the primary developers since you are just supporting Bobby. I’d have accepted you coming along for the original two-million-dollar offer. I thought kicking in another million for you was generous. However, they would have had to hire an assistant for Mr. Ennis if you hadn’t come along. Would they have offered better terms with full shares recruiting another worker?
“What I do wonder now that you called that clause to my attention is this. I assumed they meant one percent of the business I’m being hired to develop. If it becomes a large operation that could be some significant income. But that’s not how it reads. Can they really mean one percent of all the income the planet generates for them? In a few years if there are thousands of people living there doing other business besides ranching it could be a huge cash flow for us. If that’s the case, should we endanger this deal by asking for more?”
“They can’t possibly mean everything, but that’s how it reads to me too,” Eileen said. “They might start mining operations if they find ore bodies. They may farm crops on the bare islands or find it possible to mix Earth crops with native plants on the big continents. If they don’t do those things themselves and derive income, they will probably sell the rights to do so and get lease payments. Who knows if there are fish of some sort in the seas or things to mine there? Here on Earth manganese nodules on the sea bed were a huge asset to gather. If they mean everything then I wouldn’t argue for another one percent.”
I don’t see any way except to ask,” Vic said. “If they think we’re greedy to think we’d get more than just a cut of any beef operations we’ll just have to take that risk of upsetting them to know. Just the land offer could be very lucrative.”
“Or worthless if the planet is never a commercial success. If they satisfy your question about the income maybe you could ask if the land grant must be all one tract. That’s a lot of land,” Eileen said. “But again, worthless if things don’t work out and there isn’t regular transportation there.”
“Yes, trust me to find out what we can get without killing the deal, OK?”
“Entirely. I’ll keep quiet,” Eileen promised.” I’ll stay off-camera this time. My face gives away too much even if they don’t run veracity software.”
“They didn’t ask permission to run it,” Vic said.
“Figure that’s another law they don’t have,” Eileen said. “I’m not sure enough about how they think to guess what their custom would be.”
“I think I’d rather not ask at this point,” Vic said. “But let’s keep in mind to ask what the custom is from a neutral third party.”
“Yeah, that’s the only safe way,” Eileen agreed. “It may be some time before we can do that and will be long after our wages and benefits are settled. No help for it,” she decided.
* * *
When Nick came in the kitchen door two workers facing it looked up. “Delivery?” one asked with a scowl.
“No, I’m the new dishwasher.”
One worker went back to seeding tomatoes and the other took his time looking Nick over head to toes.
“Fresh off the shuttle,” the interested one said. It wasn’t a question. “At least you aren’t dragging luggage along so you must not be sleeping in hot slots.”
“I’m with a friend who has a very nice apartment,” Nick informed him. “I’ve been up here before and had a standing invitation to move permanently.”
“You went back to Earth?” The cook asked. He didn’t seem impressed.
“We’re both from Hawaii,” Nick said. “It’s really about as nice as Earth gets. She was my neighbor next to the place where I was a caretaker.”
“Ah, the neighbor is a she,” the fellow said cluing up. “You’re relieving me of dish duty on our busiest days so I wouldn’t care if you were a werewolf Sunday through Thursday. I’ll show you what to do. First of all, the rack of lockers behind you is for anything you need to store while you are working,” he said pointing. “I’m Hans and I’m not your boss but I’ll still tell you what to do even though they don’t pay me to supervise.”
“There’s no lock on them,” Nick observed of the tiny square lockers.
“No, but there’s a camera watching it, and if anybody screws around with your stuff he won’t work here anymore and any of us will cheerfully help you break his thumbs. Now, this is just my advice, take it for what it’s worth. I’d put my phone in there for at least the first couple of weeks. Karl over there at the stove is your real boss and he has eyes in the back of his head. Literally, with the spex he’s wearing. If you take too many calls, he’ll let you go even though it dumps the dishes back on me. Rushing off to the toilet every time your phone buzzes isn’t going to fly either. We’ve had problems with that.”
“I’ll do that, and I have an extra shirt in case I’m too dirty to wear this one home.”
“Lovely, you planned on working. Stow your stuff and I’ll show you how to do your job.”
* * *
“We have a few questions,” Vic told Bobby Ennis on com. He continued rather than wait for the lag to drag out the time for Bobby to say if he’d entertain Vic’s questions. “We’d like a few things defined tighter. They’re probably clear in your mind but not to us. Is everyone at this stage part of the primary exploration team or are new hires to develop it past a cutoff?
“Everybody on this second trip will still be considered part of the primary team,” Booby assured him. “Where the Three will cut off that benefit I’m not sure. We still have other researchers to hire such as a geologist. When the jobs become safer and less important to the financial return from the world, then I assume Jeff will inform us when that status changes.”
“OK, then about that one percent bonus. Is it really on the entire profit from the world, not just my beef project?” Vic asked. “If there are other big ventures like mining or fishing, I’d think it could become a very substantial income.”
“I certainly hope so,” Bobby said. “It’s going to be slow coming but we all hope to get filthy rich. We’re still exploring and the same team members should have claims and income from multiple worlds. We’re all life extended and take the long view.”
“Eileen had a question. She wondered if we could break up the one percent land grant into multiple parcels. One percent is a huge tract.”
“You could do that but I’d encourage you not to go crazy and register hundreds of small claims. I don’t think they have an actual office or dedicated people to administer the grants yet. You’d dump an awful lot of work on someone to record them. Or you could even take both of your grants side by side. Sometimes having a vast parcel could be advantageous. Say, if you want to run launch services and not bother your neighbors.”
Vic nodded. That answered a big question without him asking.
“I’m glad you called,” Bobby said. “I kept thinking of things to tell you but none seemed important enough to initiate a call. I wanted to suggest you get your life extension done as soon as you get here. Parts of it are a benefit to your general health that it would be smart to have in place on a remote world. It’s becoming common to do a full body scan at the start of treatment. I recommend that since you’ll be light years from any ER. Here’s a contact for Dr. Ames who most of us use if you’d like to ask what specialized mods he has available. You can be thinking which are of interest to you and decide about them before arriving. That way there’s no need to do it in a rush.
“Jeff also mentioned he’d like to disassemble and reverse engineer the farm machinery you suggested. If there are any very difficult to fab parts, we should buy them at the onset. If we need to, we can probably duplicate the computer controls easier than the actual frame and moving parts.”
“A lot of those machines are proprietary and copyrighted if not patented,” Vic said.
“Yes, and I’ve seen Jeff offer to license Earth designs. However, if they decline to sell those rights, whether because of sanctions or irrational hatred, we’ll use them anyway. We have no intellectual property laws and no formal recognition of theirs.”
Bobby tapped a few keys and icons for a couple of other files that joined Ames’ contact on the bottom of the screen.
“If you’ll print those out, they are your lift vouchers and orbit-to-orbit tickets to Home or the Moon. If you present those showing a Home destination you won’t need a visa for North America. They are second-tier tickets. Flight crew and officials can still bump you to a later flight. I figured you may want to see Home not just transfer for the Moon there. Be aware it’s very expensive to stay there and we have no free rooms for our people there. You can get your LET here on the Moon and stay free at the sovereign’s barracks. That’s what they call them but they’re nice accommodations for off Earth, not real barracks. You have a small suite being a couple. Did you have any other questions?” Bobby asked.
“No, that covers our concerns,” Vic said. “Thank you. Vic out.”
Booby noticed there weren’t any tells from Victor this time like he’d shown when being offered Eileen’s pay. He must feel everything offered was their due, or he just might be a formidable poker player. He hadn’t run software on Vic. Jeff hadn’t suggested he do that, so it was just his opinion.
* * *
Vic double-checked to make sure he was disconnected. “You got the whole package.”
“I heard,” Eileen said. “Including lift tickets, I assumed we’d have to buy.”
Alice was sitting quietly listening after washing the dishes.
“I think you should call back and insist they pick up the cost for your life extension.”
The Foys looked at her like she was insane.
“Just kidding,” she said amused that they didn’t immediately see it for humor. “You lucked out, again.”
* * *
Hans took a long apron off a hook and showed the trick of fastening it in the back.
“If you try to stand back from the sink to avoid the water you end up getting wetter than if you press right up against the sink and seal off the gap.” Hans demonstrated. “It’s a strain to do everything at arm’s length too. If you want to wear plastic sandals and keep your shoes in the locker that works. You aren’t trying to get the plates and bowls clean. You just want the majority of the organic matter to go in the disposal,” he said. “It runs automatically.”
“What happens to it?” Nick asked.
“It gets vacuum dehydrated and incinerated to carbon. That goes to the Moon. A lot of our food comes from there so it’s recycled carbon. Plates and bowls go in the slot across the sink,” He demonstrated. The roller brushes started when the plate was near and grabbed the plate. It was yanked out of his hand with a brief hum of machinery and then the brushes stopped.
“That’s all automated, including stacking them. If by error you get glasses for alcohol or silverware just put them on the shelf to the right. The only reason it’s not all automated is cups and water glasses. A robotic dishwasher good enough to sort and orient all the different kinds of dishes, do all the rims, and get lipstick off is expensive. More than that, it takes about three times the floor area of our setup. It’s a shame we need to deal with lipstick. Fewer Homies wear the stuff compared to Earthies. Hardly any of the men do.
“Since it's the only important part of your job, you have to actually look at them to confirm the rim is clean before racking them. If you get in a trance and don’t think, you can’t do the job properly. That’s also why I don’t recommend listening to music or books. You fill each pallet with the same cups or glasses. Once you push it into the dishwasher you are done with them. They are auto-sorted by type and pushed into the tunnel on the other side.” He pointed around the stainless cube of the dishwasher. “Think you can handle that?”
“If I can’t, I’ll ask you what to do,” Nick promised.
“Good man. See if you can catch up on the lunch dishes.” There was a precariously stacked pile of four overfilled pallets waiting for him.
“You lasted the whole shift and didn’t once tell me it was too hard or ask for an extra break. Do you want to go get a beer on the way home?” Hans asked at shift end. This invitation seemed to be an act of approval.
“Another time,” Nick said. “I may not be complaining but my arms are ready to fall off.”
Hans laughed. “Just wait until the morning,” he warned.
* * *
“Deloris and company pointed out there is a week soon where nobody requires their services, the Prospector isn’t being serviced or loaded. All they can do is hang around, spend money, and irritate people.”
“So, of course, they want to go out exploring instead of cutting up and having fun on a break like normal young people,” Heather guessed.
“Got it in one,” Jeff admitted. “They have the bug pretty bad.”
Heather acceded with one dismissive wave. “No landings and no close survey of anything that has radio noise or the least little hint of being occupied,” she ordered.
“I’ll quote you. Sometimes I don’t think they are properly afraid of me.”
Chapter 11
“It’s zero-nine-hundred and you’re just getting up. Did you stay out carousing after work?” Diana accused. “I’ve never known you to sleep in so late.”
“I refused an offer to go out for a beer. I’ll have you know I was a model of rectitude,” Nick said.
“Oh, for sure. And I bet you didn’t look at any other women, did you?”
“Three or four along the way. Some of the women up here are amazing,” Nick allowed.
“Good, I hate a shameless liar.”
He fought with his blanket, all twisted around him, and squirmed to a sitting position. It was when he put his arms out to lever himself up that they reminded him of their abuse.
“Ahhhh.” The way he pulled his arms in and hugged himself left no doubt about where it hurt.
“Oh, come onnn,” Diana said, drawing it out in disbelief. “You didn’t pick up anything heavier than a dinner plate.”
“Yes, but I did it a thousand times,” Nick said. Then he tried to stand up without his arms. He just got his weight over his feet and sat back down abruptly.
“I swear it all hurts,” Nick said “How will I ever go in and do it again today?”
“Hang on,” Diana said and disappeared into the bathroom.
“Take these,” she ordered when she returned with a glass of water. Her palm held three capsules. Two of which Nick worried were too big to swallow.
“Swish them around in your mouth. They get slick and easy to swallow.” His hesitation irritated her.
“The little one is an N-SAID,” she said. “The big ones are a Japanese herb that would knock you on your butt if I gave you three. They’re strong, but you look like you need strong.”
“Will I be able to work if I take them?” Nick worried.
“At your job? I’d think better with them than without. I don’t think you’ll reach down the garbage disposal or try to climb in the dishwasher. If you ran machinery with open blades or worked outside in a pressure suit, I’d say no. If you had to drive to work that wouldn’t fly either. But if your co-workers notice anything different about you, it will be that you are more pleasant than usual.”
“They don’t interact with me enough to have a baseline. We’re too busy.”
“All the better. Take those while I go make coffee. Then I’ll give you a balm that will help this too.”
Nick took the pills. Diana watched him closely. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d demanded to see in his mouth to keep him honest. He hoped she wasn’t going to come back and get amorous. That sounded as disgusting as breakfast or doing anything other than rolling back on the sofa and closing his eyes.
“Stand up,” Diana ordered when she returned. At least she offered both hands to help.
Once vertical she stepped up behind him and reached through under his arms. Then she put her arms up over his shoulders and linked her fingers behind his head.
“Take a deep breath,” she ordered.
Diana was a big woman and strong even before buying LET. She lifted him off his feet from behind. She didn’t need to tell him to exhale, it came naturally. Then she relaxed and he felt like he was falling for an instant. When she jerked him back under tension every joint in his spine popped in succession with an audible report.
“So tense,” she chided him. “Lie on the deck on your side and cross your arms loosely in front of you.”
“You mean the floor?”
Diana sighed. “You sound like an Earthie.”
He took that for a yes and stretched out.
Diana bent his top leg up a little and cupped his shoulder to hold it back in one hand. The other hand reached down and thrust his hip back firmly. He thought all his joints had popped but this finished up the lower ones clear to his tailbone.
“Roll over,” she ordered.
He complied and as expected she did the same trick with his hip again.
“Now sit back against the couch with your legs in front of you.”
Diana swung a leg over and sat behind him. After kneading his shoulders a little, she took his head in both hands.
“Resist me a little bit,” she ordered. “Now stop resisting.”
When he relaxed, she put just a little more force on the twist and his neck popped three times.
“Now the other way.”
That worked just as well. His arms were still sore but he didn’t care nearly as much.
He let his head hang back and said: “Thank you. I can die happy now.”
“Almost done,” she said all cheery. She produced a tin with a roaring tiger face on the lid and scooped a generous dollop out before handing the tin to him.
“Rub that on your arms from wrist to above your elbows.”
He’d just started to feel the tingle where he was rubbing it in when she started rubbing it on his shoulders and the backs of his arms.
“Don’t scream. It’s unbecoming and the neighbors may get weird ideas about us.”
“But it burns.”
“And I bet you forgot all about how achy they were, haven’t you?” Diana asked.
“My God, this is like being horsewhipped to make you ignore your stubbed toe.”
“Oh, hush you sissy, or next time I’ll use the extra strength. Just sit and I’ll bring you coffee.”
When he lifted the mug and took a sip without being shaky, Diana pointed it out.
“See, you didn’t even whimper to lift it to your lips,” Diana said. “I’ll give you the tin to take to work so you can apply it again if it starts wearing off.”
“That herbal stuff. Is it anything like some really good pakalolo?” Nick asked. “Because the lights are starting to look a little funny.”
“Just a little Red Vein,” Diana assured him. “It has much better medicinal effects before it makes you high. But I’m glad I didn’t give you three. You will try to go in now, won’t you?”
“Yeah, and I’ll bring home two meals for lunch tomorrow and two to stick in the freezer.”
“Sweet. The Quiet Retreat is good. I’ll consider it payback for fixing you up just now.”
* * *
Hans said nothing when he showed up. Nick expected some crack about his arms still being attached or similar. When they passed closely, he did see his nostrils dilate. The Tiger balm was pretty pungent.
When he got caught up a couple of times, they showed some mercy and didn’t rush him off to do some other job. At the end of the night Karl, who still hadn’t deigned to speak to him directly, informed the rest of the crew that ‘He’ll do.’
* * *
“We’d like to leave our firearms and some of our other valuables here,” Vic told Alice. “If we can have them sent to us later that would be nice. I just don’t trust the North Americans not to confiscate anything we try to take to the Cape. Even in sealed cases. The same with our gold. It can stay in the ground where it’s safe.”
“Maybe you should have asked for a shuttle from someplace else,” Alice said. “At least if you need to come back, you’ll be returning to familiar stuff.”
“I wasn’t about to argue with folks willing to pay our way up. I have no idea if any other county would respect our ownership and let us take them along. Texas might but they’re not in the civilian lift business yet. I can see why lifting shuttles from their territory across North America might tempt the North Americans to take an occasional shot more than they could resist. I’m not ready to consider the possibility we’ll fail just yet,” Vic told her. “If I had to guess I’d think it more likely you would be joining us.”
“And I’m not ready to think that’s a possibility for a long time,” Alice said.
“You’re young. We think in different time scales. When we buy LET, I think that’s going to make an even bigger difference.”
“Makes sense abstractly. I know you don’t mean to offend me.”
“Not even a little bit,” Vic assured her.
Alice looked concerned. “Somebody might break in and steal stuff with fewer people here. If you want to store it with Mr. Mast that might be safer than in the house or even burying it.”
“Indeed, that’s a really good idea,” Vic agreed. “We’ll leave everything at Mast’s and tell him you have access to it in case you want to put some of your things there. If you need any of our stuff, use it. No telling when we will again. We’ll ride our bikes to Mast’s, but Tommy can bring them back fastened crosswise on his bike or take Pearl to ride them back.”
“Yeah, sorry. My legs aren’t quite long enough,” Alice admitted.
“But close and you’re catching up pretty quickly,” Vic said. “Another year will see you riding Eileen’s bike. Maybe you can sell your little one at a festival.”
* * *
“You’ve survived two weekends,” Hans said. “If you aren’t wrecked at the end of the night, I’m stopping for a beer again.”
“I’d like that,” Nick agreed. In his experience, turning an invitation down more than once could make it never be extended again. Having learned and absorbed Hans’ instructions he had a clean shirt and footies. A quick clean-up and an inspection in the mirror made sure he wasn’t wearing the sauce of the day somewhere.
“Did you get your pay card swiped?” Hans asked, suddenly aware he hadn’t seen Nick do that. It had taken him two weekends to notice. Perhaps he was worried he was buying.
Nick had wondered about that. He saw Hans and the other prep cook swipe cards with the head chef, Karl. It appeared they were being paid daily but it wasn’t any of his business to pry.
“I just have them deposit my pay to my account at The Private Bank,” Nick said. “When we’re done for the night, I don’t want to stand around doing more business.”
“Oh, a man of substance,” Hans said. “I’m a no account.” It seemed to amuse him to accept the wider accusation built into the phrase.
Hans led the way out into the public corridors and didn’t offer any explanation of where they were going. It was on Nick to follow or not. It was up to the hub and two rings north before he dropped back down to the half-g level. Nick hadn’t planned on an expedition.
The door at which they finally stopped was numbered 118 and had a video touch screen centered on it, besides the normal dumb control on the bulkhead but no instructions or greetings active on it. Hans tapped his card on the corner of the screen and ENTER appeared followed by a countdown timer working back from thirty seconds. Hans powered the door open and entered.
Nick had no idea what might be behind the door. Stepping into a private residence wouldn’t have been any surprise. A deck to overhead screen greeted them with the enormous face of a pretty blond girl. She made a coy little pout and invited them to go to the right with a little tip of the head, breaking eye contact.
“That seemed to react to us,” Nick said, “is it run by an AI?”
“Yeah, Greta may direct members to the left to go to the bar if the lounge is getting crowded. Employees like me can expect to be shuffled off there out of the way if it’s prime time. But I know when it is busy and don’t come then if I’m not working. She will also stop you and ask you to settle-up if you are in arrears. People tend to argue with her less than a live human. If you have a private room reserved, she’ll direct you to go there past the lounge if it’s busy and you’d overfill it.”
“So, this is your second job?” Nick asked.
“Third actually. Cooks are in demand. I also bake cookies three nights a week at another place. Oh, and I get up to three dozen cookies a week, if they are your thing. If I can’t sell them, they make nice gifts.”
“You’re a pastry chef too!” Nick said. He was impressed.
“Well, nobody is asking me to make Danish pastries or fancy cakes. I’d be happy to try. Besides the benefits at The Quiet Retreat, I get a discount here and most of the benefits of a full member if I don’t try to bump paying members. They don’t attempt fancy meals but 118 serves appetizers and amazing chili.”
The lounge looked like it could hold twenty-five or thirty comfortably. It was laid out so it was hard to count the seats. Hans took them to a tiny alcove with two seats. Anyone the least bit overweight would never fit. A button in the center of the tiny table glowed green. Hans slapped it and said: “Two mugs of the red ale, Freddy.” It briefly turned yellow then back to green. There was no audible acknowledgment.
“Trust me, their Pilsner is weak,” Hans said.
“Always trust your native guide,” Nick agreed. “Is this what they call a dark club?”
Hans looked up to see if anyone reacted to that and made a squelching motion with his hand. “I’d avoid that term,” he said softly. “Some are darker than others and it’s generally not a complimentary label. 118 never has station security here trying to sort out problems. I wouldn’t work here if they were into nasty stuff. Just the fact they have food tells you it is just a down-scaled version of the Retreat. It’s very conservative.”
“OK, I’ll just call it a private club,” Nick agreed.
“There you go, that works. So, what is your story?” Hans asked. “If you had it pretty cushy in Hawaii what motivated you to abandon the Slum Ball?”
“Somebody was trying to kill me. If I’d stayed, they were going to succeed, eventually.”
“You got threats? Emails or phone calls?”
“Nothing so subtle. They shot at me and blew up my car,” Nick said. “Probably because I asked Jeff Singh to drop a couple of nukes to bail us out of a mess of our own making.”
“You should wait until I’ve had a lot more beer to start outrageous name-dropping. Though it’ll take more beer than I planned to drink tonight to believe that one.”
Nick sighed and slid his pad in front of Hans, set to play his last conversation with Jeff.
Their beer was dropped off by a server without a word and Hans started on his. It was half gone by the end of the recording.
“It does sound like Singh,” Hans admitted.
“Believe what you want,” Nick said. “You asked, I told you. Believing is optional.”
“If you have connections like that, why are you washing dishes?”
“Did you really listen? The man was very unhappy I unloaded the responsibility for stopping a plague on him. I’m not sure he wouldn’t hang up on me if I called him again. I owe him favors, not the other way around. I’m way short of the level of favors he trades in too.”
Hans silently considered it to the end of his beer.
“It’s amazing. All those people lived through the terrible flu somebody released. Nobody believes it was a natural virus. Yet they were ready to unleash another horror on the world with that still in living memory.”
“You believe then,” Nick said.
It wasn’t a question but Hans nodded in agreement.
“Should I keep this secret?” Hans asked.
“For me? No. I’m not ashamed of anything I did,” Nick said.
“That’s such a deserving story,” Hans decided, “I’m buying your beer tonight.”
* * *
“How did your dinner party go?” Jeff asked.
“Differently than I expected,” April admitted. “People hit it off or not in ways I’d never have predicted. Turns out that the Swansons and Dave’s wife shared a favorite vacation spot on Earth before they came up to Home. Before I was born for that matter. Dave admitted he had no use for a vacation and never took them. Anton is very tactful. He didn’t take that as disapproving his habit like some would. Gloria and Dave’s wife, Adele, hit it off so well it won’t matter if Dave and Anton get along or not. I predict they are going to see a lot of each other by their wives’ arrangements. Once the ladies started showing each other old pix of this Sanibel Island off their pads and reminiscing about walking the beach and picking over sea shells. It was an instant friendship. Anton seemed amused by it and resigned, but Dave was less thrilled.”
Even Jeff, as socially shallow as he was, could picture that. He knew Dave extremely well and could picture his expression the instant he realized this would lead to more socializing.
“Dave and Anton were separated by their wives,” April said. She described it with her hands too. “When the ladies went on and on reminiscing, he spoke with Marvin Bray on his other side. Marvin told about his mistake of selling off his apartment and being trapped outside the housing market. Dave was helpful and said one of his workers was going to move to Beta and work for a detail shop setting up over there. He promised to inquire if he was going to drop his half-share of a two-bedroom here. Marvin is hopeful they haven’t promised it to somebody else yet. That may be the best thing to come of the dinner. Living out of a bag and in hot slots sounds horrible.”
“What about your burger guy?” Jeff asked. “Did he just sit and listen to the others?”
“He did until the two wives recalled a famous burger restaurant on their island. His date was listening and piped up that that was exactly what Cheesy did right here. Turns out, his date was the only one besides me who had ever been to Cheesy’s. Once they started asking him about it, they got his full history starting with growing up in Persia. It was kind of interesting because he’s never shared any of it with me.”
“Did you own up to being a loyal customer?” Jeff asked.
“He made clear that was why he figured he was invited. I hadn’t told him that but I guess it was kind of obvious. I didn’t need to promote him; he does that naturally. He invited all of them to come and have a free burger. Other than speaking up for him, his date didn’t say much. All I got was that she manages her investments and has a very small number of people she advises on financial things. I don’t think she advertises at all.”
“Now, who is this Marvin fellow again?” Jeff wondered.
“I picked him because he’s given me several little intelligence tidbits and been rewarded for them. He doesn’t leave a bunch of useless messages either. He never alluded to them or tried to find out which got him paid,” April said.
“Did he bring a date?”
“Sort of. He brought his boss from Larkin’s. He obviously wasn’t a love interest. He finally owned up that he didn’t believe Marvin had my invitation. He wasn’t sure it wasn’t some kind of elaborate joke until he was seated and introduced to me.”
“That was big of him to admit,” Jeff allowed.
“He didn’t say much else except to praise Marvin as a diligent worker despite all his housing problems. That may come back to haunt him too.”
“Why’s that?” Jeff wondered.
“Well, Dave asked a couple of questions about how Marvin’s freight experience would relate to running a parts and inventory control for a fabricating shop. I think the only reason Dave didn’t offer him a job on the spot was to avoid poaching him right in front of his boss. I suspect he’ll give him a private call later.”
“That’s probably the job of the fellow moving to Beta,” Jeff guessed. “So, he’ll get a new place to live and a better job out of attending your dinner?”
“Looks like it to me. I’m sure he’ll share the good news if it happens.”
* * *
“Have you set a date for Heather’s fancy ball?” April asked Mo.
“Yes, nobody seems happy with it but we had to set it six months ahead. A year would have been easier. First, it is difficult to arrange transportation for that many people. Earth to LEO lift capacity runs near a hundred percent utilization. There just isn’t any surge capacity built into the system. Then the kind of guests she will be inviting tend to have all their time booked up. Sometimes years in advance. I suspect many of them will have to bump some other event off their calendar to attend. If they beg off pleading prior commitments it’s probably true.”
“I’ve noticed Earth governments sometimes substitute a lower-ranking official for an event if the superior one isn’t available,” April said. “Perhaps you can frame the invitation to allow them to do such a shift.”
“That might have another benefit,” Mo decided. “Part of the difficulty with the guests is some may have security that must be transported and housed. One might hope lower-level people would have fewer or no security entourage. We think thirty guests from Earth may be our limit. Most of the crowd will be her survey crew, heads of departments, important Homies like you, and heads of families who already live at Central.”
“Even then, how will you accommodate them?” April asked.
“Some will have to stay on Home at the hotels. We have enough lead time to be able to get reservations for most of their rooms. The new Holiday Inn on Beta will be open by then, and we have a promise of all their rooms for the two days each side of the party.”
April’s face changed, not with anger but with obvious deep thought.
“Did something about those arrangements bother you?” Mo worried.
“Not exactly bothered me,” April assured him. “I need to talk to Heather and Jeff. We have every other sort of venture going. It seems the ideal time to start a hotel at Central.”
“Can you build one and furnish it in six months?” Mo asked.
“You are the boss of the boring teams,” April reminded him. “How long would it take to divert the nearest boring machine to carve out a hotel?”
“How long a tunnel and how many rooms off it?” Mo countered.
“Don’t think linear,” April said. “I’m picturing one large circular tunnel. Say, two hundred meters in diameter with sixty rooms. Bisected by two tunnels with maintenance spaces and laundry. The lobby would be at one end of that center tunnel. The rooms would be built like ship modules all along the outside two-thirds of the tunnel. Not as individual stub tunnels. You’re deep enough now, that large a tunnel isn’t a collapse hazard, is it?”
“Not even from nuclear attack, no,” Mo admitted. “Can you furnish the rooms and hire housekeeping if I have the bores done in six weeks and sealed in two more?”
“If we build like we do a ship with prototyping techniques. Yeah, it’ll cost more but it saves a lot of time for things like sealing small individual tunnels. The utilities will be much easier to install under or over the modules in one long run instead of branching down each stub tunnel. Heather can order some of her people to suspend their normal operations for a few days to work housekeeping at the hotel. That’s a benefit of being sovereign. After the party, we will have a breather to hire and train a real housekeeping crew.”
“We need to expand the barracks too,” Mo said.
“Yes, we’ve needed to for some time,” April agreed. “But once the party is over, we can house the barracks people in the hotel while you expand the barracks. I seriously doubt it will book up solid for some time.”
“I need to get on the computer and do a design with stress analysis,” Mo said. “What I’m picturing right now is not individual tunnels for each room but the circular tunnel that will have alcoves for each room leaving a strengthening rib between each.”
“See? You have it halfway designed in your mind,” April told him. “I’ll call my partners and give you a yes or no on if we want to do it later today.”
* * *
“Yeah, do it,” Jeff said with no hesitation. Heather sat looking thoughtful much longer and they waited on her.
“Yes,” she finally said, but with qualifications. “Allow a gap in the rooms so the cross tunnels in the center can be extended. And site it so there is plenty of virgin rock around it to put in a second ring with even nicer suites. There should be room in that ring for entries to some amenities like a pool and a small garden for quiet meditation. An in-house restaurant and a decent gym with a sauna would be nice too.
“Wow, you want to run it as a high-end operation,” Jeff said. “And just the base rooms are already three times the size of any of our current hotels.”
“The people who can afford to come to the Moon for business or pleasure aren’t the sort to enjoy roughing it,” Heather said. “Even April demanded a shower before she’d come.”
“I should have held out for the sauna,” April quipped. “I’ve never tried one.”
* * *
“Tommy informs me the minibus people posted a schedule and sign-up list on the public bulletin board at the post office,” Vic said. “No need for us to go in and sign up though. Tommy was smart enough to write down the phone number and web site for us so we can make reservations online.”
“What happens if they are over-subscribed?” Eileen worried. “Who gets dropped? The people with their names on the list or us?”
“I’ll ask when I call their number,” Vic promised.
Alice sat at the table looking worried. She knew they were leaving but it still bothered her to hear it being arranged. She had a sudden thought.
“You can’t use your satellite phone in space, can you? Are you going to leave it behind?”
“It won’t work on Home or the Moon,” Vic agreed. “However, we have a long trip across the continent to the Cape. We may need it to travel. I tell you what. When we get to our rooms near the shuttle port, we’ll mail it back to you. No need to change accounts or anything. Consider the monthly fee our gift to you. A very minor one compared to your gift to us. I’ll make sure all the local phone owners know you are using it before I send it back.”
Vic didn’t put it on the speaker, and sat back and relaxed once he connected to the bus service. They couldn’t make out everything he was saying, much less the other side.
“They assure us anyone who prepays like I just did will have seats. The sign-up list at the post office will then be first come first served. We’re reserved two seats for Reno on the second of May. That’s the first that they figure the passes will be snow-free. If they can’t get here from Reno, they will try a week later.”
“I’m going to miss you guys so much,” Alice vowed.
Chapter 12
“I need another warm body for Bobby,” Mo begged of Heather.
“To do what, besides breath and take up valuable space?” Heather asked.
“Well, a minimum of mechanical ability would help. We got a Kubota harvester and a Yanmar tractor. They were the best available of Japanese small field machines, according to the used equipment sellers. Also, among the few that run on fuel cells. They will be easy to convert over to our own power sources. We need to disassemble them and document the process well enough to be able to fab our spare parts or reproduce the machines for Prairie or other worlds. Somebody who can use hand tools and knows which way to turn a bolt is entirely sufficient. We’ll record the entire process on video so we can reverse it and assemble them.”
“I’ll see who I can rob of a head count. If I must, I’ll call one of the employment agencies for a day worker. If they don’t screw up majorly in a day you can retain them.”
“Thank you. It isn’t rocket science,” Mo claimed.
Heather wasn’t so sure. She suspected it was another thing that would look easy if you weren’t the person doing it.
* * *
The Japanese Minister for Foreign Affairs, Taikan, considered the fold-over invitation on his desk carefully. The paper was thick and had a slightly shiny surface without feeling slick. It was somewhat translucent too and had a few delicate chrysanthemum leaves and dark yellow petals embedded. The use of inclusions in the hand-made paper wasn’t overdone. The entire effect was subtle. The English text was in a medium green ink that complemented the leaves and the Japanese text was in a color he immediately labeled as Tangerine to complement the petals. Both were done by hand and the translation was so correct that he couldn’t tell which language was the original message and which was the translation. It invited him or his chosen representative to join the Sovereign of Central at a state ball and dinner buffet to celebrate life, friends, and allies. The event would start at 1800 Zulu time on June the tenth.
The note left unsaid if he and thus Japan were foremost friends or allies. Even that part of the message was subtle. If they didn’t consider themselves either, who could not celebrate life? It wasn’t even tied to any political event or anniversary. That was carefully neutral but it wouldn’t deflect certain other nations from condemning anyone attending. Taikan didn’t care to demonstrate cowardice for his nation by turning down such an eloquent invitation. His personal politics were such that he’d enjoy sending a message to the sorts of joyless uzeee naysayers who could be offended by a party. Unfortunately, there was no way he could alter his obligations to be away for as many days as travel to the Moon would require. His deputy, Kawase Toyo, was younger and would travel much easier. He called him.
“Kawase, how would you like an all-paid exotic vacation for your nation?”
“Greenland again? Or have you found somewhere as hot as that was cold?”
“How suspicious you are,” Taikan reproved him. “That wasn’t even in the depth of their winter and you were warned to have adequately warm clothing. This is a wonderful assignment, literally a party! Your wife will find it makes up for your previous task.”
“Is her presence requested or is it required?” Kawase asked. “She is as suspicious as me.”
“Atari wouldn’t want to miss it,” Taikan assured him. “You will attend a ball that is a state function. Come to my office and I’ll show you the invitation.”
Kawase took a long time examining the invitation.
“This isn’t the work of a barbarian,” He reluctantly admitted.
“I’m sure the whole experience will be tasteful and disagreeable to all the parties we wish to irritate by treating the Moon queen with honor and legitimacy.”
Kawase actually smiled at that. “That will make up for any minor hardship,” he agreed.
* * *
“Mr. Naito, how does your day off find you?” It was Monica from the employment agency. Nick couldn’t imagine why she’d be calling him so early. He was doing just fine at work and if they had a complaint, he didn’t think they’d be shy to tell him directly.
“I’m fine but I just got up. I’m working on my coffee but haven’t had breakfast yet. The first couple of weeks I was sore and pretty tired after work, but I’m acclimated to it now.”
“Then would you be interested in some better work? I have a job on the Moon. You’d have to catch the 0900 Larkin shuttle. A seat is tentatively reserved for you. Can you do simple mechanical work? You’d be using hand tools to disassemble farm machinery. They’d give you a place to sleep tonight, cafeteria access, and work tomorrow. Do you know which way to turn a bolt to loosen or tighten?” Monica asked.
“That’s pretty basic. I grew up poor and we had to fix our own things because we couldn’t afford professionals. Even as kids we fixed our bikes or they didn’t get fixed. I can do things like repair faucets and replace electrical switches, though it was hard to buy parts without a trade license. Then what? Do I come back the next day?” Nick asked.
“I can’t promise anything,” Monica said. “But if they are happy with you, they could extend the job for several months until both machines are fully disassembled. Then the plan is to reassemble them. They suspect that will take longer than taking them apart.”
“I’d be quitting with no notice,” Nick worried.
“That has no stigma here,” Monica assured him. “They’ll simply go back to the third cook doing dishes and be no worse off than before you came. I’ll find them another dishwasher as soon as possible. The job pays two-thousand five hundred for the day or seventy-five thousand Australian dollars a month. Extra for five-week months plus room and board. What do you say?”
“I’ll be at the 0900 shuttle, clean, and fed, with my bag in case I last more than a day,” Nick said. “Is that at the north spindle?”
“Yes, no ticket needed. Just identify yourself to the crew at the hatch,” Monica said.
“Oh, and thank you for thinking of me,” Nick said.
“I knew you weren’t going to make a career of washing dishes,” Monica said. “If I hadn’t found you something you’d have started looking yourself soon.” She disconnected.
“Diana!”
“I heard, sweetie. That will be good for you. I’ve enjoyed you as a guest but we aren’t attached at the hip. When you can visit again, you know what they say.”
“No, I’m not sure what they say,” Nick admitted.
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” Diana said and waggled her eyebrows at him.
When Nick called in his first report to Morton, the man was amused that Nick was on his second job already. The social dynamics of Home were interesting. Especially that some things were done quietly even if they weren’t illegal. He looked forward to reports on the Moon and said as much.
“I’m sorry there’s nothing big happening to report,” Nick said. “Just big for me.”
“I wasn’t looking for big news when you went up there,” Morton assured him. “I’m getting a feel for the culture and how Homies think. Sometimes significant knowledge is the sum of much trivia. My turn now. The new trade minister is following in your footsteps by pushing a road maintenance program. Wait until you hear his stupid solution…”
* * *
“Broutin, my Foreign Minister doesn’t think we should accept an invitation to this Moon queen’s ball,” the new PM, Verlaine, said. “I’ve never met her or her peers like Durand has, and have no opinion on them other than not wishing to do anything to interrupt their vital trade. Durand suggested bluntly that the FM may botch it due to his attitude if ordered to attend. They do not seem to be great fans of each other. You’ve dealt with them before, and the only thing we could all agree on is to send you. Will you do so if we give you the invitation and cover your expenses? You’d be without a portfolio, but I am told you have a relationship and should be welcomed by these people.”
“Well, at least you acknowledge they are people and not horned devils,” Pierre said. “I found them gracious, not given to taking offense quickly, and indifferent to slight insults to diplomatic protocols. I think you are reading too much into a party invitation.”
“We are, in the opinion of several members of my government, entirely too closely associated with Home, to our potential harm in joining this new claims commission.”
“I wish somebody worried about us being too cozy with North America,” Pierre said, “but you have to run your government as you think best. I’d be delighted to go. Do you have any message at all you wish delivered to the queen or her partners?”
“No, we just want to make the minimalist gesture of sending someone. You aren’t authorized to make any changes in the status quo.”
“Right. Don’t offend anyone, get drunk, or hinder the flow of cheap Helium3.”
“I couldn’t have expressed it any more succinctly myself,” Verlaine said.
“When you send me lift passes you might save yourself the trouble of booking a return trip,” Broutin said. “The law has softened a little on life extension therapies but I’ve gone as far down that road as I feel safe. The pendulum may swing back the other way in a year or a decade and I’ll suddenly find myself a legal monster. I’m old enough I feel the need for the full course of treatments. I might as well do that while I’m up there,” Pierre decided.
“And you’ll book your own return passage or call us to do so eventually?”
“Perhaps, if I ever felt safe to do so. Or I just might stay.”
“Joel intimated that was a possibility,” Verlaine said.
“I wish he would,” Pierre said. “He was right to retire. He was getting too old for the daily demands of the position. It just requires too much energy of an old man. He’s still a brilliant politician. If he got rejuvenated, who knows? If France rationalizes their view of life extension he might come back and run again.”
Verlaine’s face said he’d never considered that possibility.
* * *
“Lindsey honey, come here,” Sylvia called from the front door.
That was odd. Sylvia wasn’t expecting anything and said as much when the door alarm went off. What could they have gotten that would require her help to carry it? She called out she was coming, pulled her gloves off, and double-checked she didn’t have any paint on her to rub off elsewhere.
When she got to the door there was no package. Sylvia was holding a small envelope and a fold-over card. The courier was standing holding an identical envelope.
“Lindsey Pennington?” At her nod, he extended the envelope and left immediately. She looked at Sylvia but got no signal back of any sort. She’d just have to open it to find out what was going on. The flap was just folded inside which helped.
“A ball? On the Moon? Why ever would they ask me?”
“Got me. On Earth, most families hid their crazy relatives in a closet and kept them out of sight. They sure didn’t invite them to parties where you could be sure they’d embarrass you. I took the liberty of accepting for both of us.”
“I think you just make these stories up on the spur of the moment,” Lindsey accused.
“But you aren’t sure, are you?” Sylvia asked.
“Well, we are talking Earthies. If you said they fed them through a slot in the door the added detail would make it more believable.”
“Good girl. You’re learning how people lie to you,” Sylvia said.
“It would help if you said where on Earth. I might believe it more about Persia than say, England.”
“Don’t you believe that for a minute,” Sylvia warned her. “People have the same impulses everywhere. It is just whether the culture and law make them easy to do or if they need to hide their inclinations. The family patriarch can do anything with his own in Persia, but the state would come in and remove them if the father did the same thing in London. Of course, then the state would probably do the equivalent of hiding them in a closet. That’s OK, if it’s them doing it.”
“Couldn’t you just tell me how people lie, instead of throwing out outrageous statements and challenging me to believe them or refute them?” Lindsey asked.
“Sure, but it would be a waste of our time. It can’t be taught as an abstract. When somebody tells you a lie it’s usually couched in just the right terms to make you believe. Liars are skilled and you are still catching up to them at your age. You need to develop an internal meter whose needle bounces to eleven when somebody tells you a whopper.” She demonstrated with a hand that rotated hard right and bounced at its limit. “Lord knows your Earth schools never taught you.”
“Why would liars teach me something I’d use against them?”
Sylvia nodded. “You’re starting to get it. What’s your invitation like?”
“Oh, aren’t they the same?” Lindsey spread hers open for Sylvia. It was the translucent stock with a vellum-like finish. Lindsey’s had a line of violets embedded down the left margin and the calligraphy in ink that matched the flowers closely.
“Check mine out,” Silvia offered. It had a double line of square zen tangles in gold leaf embedded down the left side. The calligraphy was gold too. Sylvia wondered how they did that. It looked really nice.
“Wow, that’s a lot of work,” Lindsey said. “I bet no two are alike.”
“Probably not. They seem to be doing it up right. I’m going to go have a new dress made. I don’t want to wear old to something this special. Do you want to come, dear?”
“Come? I want to help design it!”
* * *
“We’ve got a text from Mr. Ennis,” Vic said and immediately read it aloud.
“Just a quick note not to delay needlessly when you travel from your area to the Cape launch site. Our sovereign is hosting a state ball on June tenth and foreign guests will add a burden to the already stressed lift schedules as that date approaches. As members of our exploration team, you are invited to the event and may wish to bring appropriate clothing if you own any or acquire them along your way. I’m very much looking forward to meeting both of you. If you run into any problems with travel arrangements, please feel free to call to see if there is anything I can do to help.
Sincerely,
Bobby Ennis
“Do you want to buy something fancy to wear in Florida before we lift?” Vic asked.
“No, I’d rather buy something when we pass through Home,” Eileen decided. “I know it may be more expensive but I’d have more confidence it won’t be something distinctively Earth-style that would mark us as bumpkins just off the shuttle.”
“Makes sense to me,” Vic said.” Let’s search for clothiers and tailors and see if we need to make an appointment to buy and be fitted. It would be a shame to get there and find they don’t accept walk-ins.”
“Yes, and maybe we can see what sorts of things they offer,” Eileen agreed.
There were only two stores that advertised formal clothing.
“It amuses me that the two purveyors of bespoke clothing are both named Frank,” Vic said. “Which Frank would you like to call, dear?”
“Frank and Cindy, of course,” Eileen said. “Frank Fabbri didn’t have any men’s clothing displayed or mentioned. I also got the impression that Frank and Cindy weren’t as full of themselves. The Fabbri website kept bragging about their Hawaiian history and named customers. I was trying to get away from Earth influences.”
“I thought I’d wear the same outfit you picked for me to go to the political pow-wow. Minus the overcoat of course,” Vic added.
“I’d like to see you in something new,” Eileen said. “You can afford it.”
“I know that,” Vic said. “If it pleases you, I’ll look at some things. I’d like to take my tie and see if they can work it in. It speaks to who I am.”
“I don’t see how a hunk of turquoise worth the price of a ground car could ever be out of style,” Eileen said. “Just wait and see if that isn’t true.”
* * *
The routing clerk for the Foreign Ministry of the Russian Republic had no idea where to send Heather's invitation. He’d been reprimanded in the past for sending ‘garbage’ to the first Minister’s office. If it had come from an Earth nation, he’d have sent it to one of the departments that oversaw specific Earth regions. There was no department assigned to space nations. Best to ask his boss.
The clerk’s boss was a third-level functionary, not even a deputy minister, but saw to the creation of special ambassadors to address the interests of non-government trade groups, interest associations, and charitable enterprises such as the Red Cross or Red Crescent. He also had a sense of humor.
Sergei examined the invitation carefully and was surprised even this low-level clerk didn’t comment upon the fineness of it. The handmade paper had inclusions of several ripe wheat heads dried and pressed so thin they could be included in the paper. The invitation was in English calligraphy in burgundy ink and a flawless Russian script in sienna.
“You are correct,” he informed the clerk. “This is the sort of low-level invitation from a minor government that the Minister would rather not be put on the spot to decline, but wouldn’t waste his valuable time by accepting. He could spend every other week celebrating some anniversary of African nations that will have a different government by the time the next anniversary rolls around. He even gets invitations to trade shows and regional things like the crowning of Miss Golden Berry.”
“Then what should I do with it?”
“I create the credentials for the so-called special ambassadors for the ministry. I have all sorts of lessor officials or important people in private industry who crave the distinction of being named a Special Ambassador. It sounds so impressive. In this case, I know the Moon queen or at least her peers have channeled funds through our Republic. Any of the banking officials would be an excellent choice. However, I happen to know the specific person who operates as a sort of facilitator to several large banks. He shepherded their funds through the banking maze. I’ll direct this invitation to him.”
“Thank you, Gospodin, I was sure you’d know what to do,” the clerk said.
Once the clerk was gone Sergei smiled in anticipation. He was going to enjoy this. His nephew, Grigoriy Titov, was a captain of the Brotherhood, or Bratya as they were known. He had enough large legitimate business connections to be acceptable to the banks as a conduit for otherwise questionable transactions. Indeed, his legitimate businesses could receive and disperse the sort of large cash payments needed to hide them behind multiple transactions. He’d described some of those transactions by Spacers to his uncle with amazement. He could gift his nephew a chance to see those customers on their home turf. Who knows what opportunities might come from a better insight?
“Grigoriy? This is your uncle Sergei. How would you like a fancy job title with few real benefits, but a chance to see that odd bird Singh in his natural element?”
When he told him how, he had to wait for Grigoriy to stop laughing.
* * *
“If I may make a suggestion,” Nick said before touching a single tool. “Some of the sub-assemblies, like the door to the harvester cab, should be set aside whole for now rather than document every detail of the hinges and the latch. You can either catch up to those details later if you intend to reproduce the entire machine, or not bother at all. If a hinge pin fails on a far planet, that’s the sort of maintenance problem that can be expediently repaired with local materials like a bolt.”
“That makes sense,” Bobby said. “What else? I can see you are itching to say more.”
“I’d like a couple of roll-along racks with maybe three sizes of bins to hold small parts like bolts. When I get a set of bolts holding something like a chain idler, I’ll call out how many and with what video they are associated on the bin. I’ll note the number of each bin as it is used, and note the details like the size and class of the bolt if it is marked.”
Per Heather’s orders, Bobby decided right then that he’d offer Nick continued employment if he didn’t do something tremendously stupid before the end of the day.
Chapter 13
“I’ve delegated both the food and music to others,” Mo said. “The head of the cafeteria seemed to have a good grasp of how to cater a large event. The cabbage mines are going to plant some special items timed to harvest for the party. I haven’t heard back about how to handle the music. We need both background mood-setting music and a variety for dancing. I don’t see any way around using recorded music. We have some local talent in small groups who would be happy to provide a quiet background. They aren’t up to providing a big sound for ballroom or modern dance.”
“I’d shudder at the expense of bringing in an orchestra from Earth,” Heather said. “It would be that many more people needing rooms and bad for security. We just need a DJ to manage the recorded music. If we don’t have any local talent, then bringing in one person for the job isn’t so bad.”
* * *
“What are you guys doing?” Diana demanded. “Working on sculptures? Nick got a job and went off to the Moon. I’m all alone and bored out of my mind but I won’t come over if you are grinding away with diamond tools. I’d have to wear ear covers, and I might as well be home alone for all that we’d get a chance to talk.”
“We’re at the hand smoothing stage getting all the tool marks out. We have a vacuum running but it’s nothing you can’t talk over. We’ll be tinting it in a few days and you can critique it for us. Right now, we’re about ready to clean up and go to the cafeteria. Do you want to go with us?”
“Please. I’ll come over and walk down with you.”
Eric was sitting there working a pad when Diana let herself in. He smiled at her, saved something on the pad, and set it aside.
Diana set her hands on her hips as she liked to do when she wanted to be dramatic.
“You’re getting big. I can tell that in just a couple of years you are going to be a handsome devil. Isn’t it about time you ask to have your majority voted?”
Eric looked over his shoulder. You could hear the shower running but he was visibly worried they’d be overheard.
“I was scared they’d insist on that when I stopped sleeping in the kid’s full g barracks. I like staying here and the last couple of times Sylvia went off somewhere she let me stay here alone. Even when Lindsey went with her, they didn’t make me go stay with someone. So, they seem to be treating me nearly like an adult. I’m not looking forward to finding somewhere to live. I don’t want to live in hot slots or zero g housing. Being all alone is kind of scary too,” Eric admitted.
“If they insist you put it to the vote and boot you out, I have an empty couch,” Diana offered. “I have a second bedroom but it’s pretty much my walk-in closet. There’s a bed hung on the wall but no room to open it. Nick was staying with me but he’s gone to the Moon and I have my doubts he’ll be back except to visit. That will at least give you a transition to living on your own. I don’t know how much you are making now, but you should be able to afford rent. The lotto income was enough to let me rent from Singh and I know you have more going on than that. I’m not saying it’s forever, just until you can make your own way.”
“That’s nice of you, but let’s not tell them. It might make them decide to tell me I should ask at the next Assembly, if they know I have a place to go,” Eric said.
“Sure, milk it for as long as you can,” Diana agreed. “If you come to stay with me, you’ll know you have overstayed your welcome when I start charging you rent.”
“For a couch? That doesn’t sound so bad. There are still people selling sleeping space on the deck,” Eric said.
“I know. It’s crazy. Are you coming to the cafeteria with us?” Diana asked. Signaling she was talked out on living arrangements.
Eric had one more thing to say before he’d let it go.
“Maybe I should go to the Moon for a while if I’m voted my majority. I could sell the courier and used electronics businesses and everything else I could run from anywhere. They have enough room nobody lives in hot slots. I’d miss Lindsey but I’d get to see my dad.”
Sylvia came out all cleaned up and ready to go. That cut off any further discussion.
* * *
Tommy and Pearl were going home after supper but Alice asked if she could have a private word with them. There wasn’t anywhere to do that and Tommy said as much.
“Let’s make a fire and sit at the fire circle,” Alice suggested. “It’s cool but that will be enough to keep the chill off today.”
“OK, I’ll build a fire. If you two will bring some wood, that will help,” Tommy said. He looked uncertain and a little worried about why they needed any privacy. This wasn’t a normal event. Pearl asked if the Foys would watch little Tommy while they talked. The fact they cheerfully agreed without any questions just added to the mystery. Alice had warned them she intended to tell the couple about the coming change in ownership and try to recruit them for full-time help. Pearl called her dad on their radio and let him know they’d be late.
The discussion went on so long that Vic observed they might need to spend the night rather than go home in the dark. When they were talked out Alice stayed to see that the fire was put out and the Wards wanted to reclaim little Tommy and start home in a hurry. Dusk was well started and they’d need to move quickly even though they had Tommy’s postal bike.
Alice, when she came in, muttered. “Give me a second. I’m frozen. I should have grabbed a heavier coat.” She left her jacket on and made a big mug of herbal tea. Once she was warming her hands around the mug she spoke.
“We were able to agree. They are going to hire on and live here full-time. They want to split the bedroom behind the bathroom and insulate it on the backside of the walls. That will give us some privacy from each other except on the very worst cold days when we’ll need to retreat to the kitchen.
“Pearl wants to expand our gardens a little and add some new items. Tommy wants the right to continue our gold mining as part of his pay. They expect me to increase the chicken flock for both meat and eggs.
“Tommy got pretty nosy about why you are selling the place to me. He wondered how I intended to pay property taxes and maintain the place. I think maybe he’s worried the whole thing is a sham and you may remain the secret owners. I had to firmly tell him my money was none of his business. I’m hiring help but not as a financial manager.
“Other than that, they want five hundred dollars a month either cash or in goods ordered online and shipped in. I think he expected me to try to haggle over that but it’s a bargain. I pointed out you set me up with a teen checking account at Chase, but I won’t have very much in it until I turn eighteen. I can pay their five hundred a month OK but any big renovations on the house will have to wait until this fall when I turn eighteen.”
“I didn’t see you take any paper out there. I hope you aren’t just trusting this to memory?” Vic said. “When people remember differently later it ruins deals and makes for hard feelings between former friends. Remember how you couldn’t come to terms to let Tommy use your nine-millimeter? People can get weird about money.”
“They needed to get home before dark,” Alice said. “We’ll write it up next weekend.”
“They’ll think of three more things they need by then,” Eileen predicted.
“That’s OK. I can think of a few new things I want them to do if they want to start making changes,” Alice said.
* * *
The new Federal regulations for refinery emissions were impossible, even in a new facility that was state of the art. The Florida panhandle plant where Frederick worked was far from state-of-the-art. Most of it was in place before Frederick was born. Maintenance was already a significant expense before weighing if it was worth the expense of a major rebuild. Nobody in corporate would say it out loud, but it was in danger of Texas annexing their area too. That would be fine for him but not for the company. Production would simply shift to other countries with less stringent rules if they shut down.
Frederick Hayes was certain the new rules drove a stake right through the heart of his profession. His wasn’t the only refinery that would be shutting down. That meant a mob of refinery engineers would be trying to compete for a diminishing number of jobs. Some, younger than him, would make the switch to similar chemical plants or go back to school. At fifty-five years old he had no illusions he’d find anything at his present pay and had no desire to go back to school. His retirement funds were far from allowing him to consider retiring now. He’d run through them in less than two decades and end up on the negative tax. That was no way to live.
The time line to meet the new regulations meant his refinery would stay open another year. They’d time it to finish out the on-site feed stock before then. Most of the other refineries closing were on a similar schedule. Riding this job to the bitter end would just make his task of finding a new position that much more difficult. He hoped most of his competitors would hang on until the last day they could work. His best hope was to quit now and find a related job or a foreign position. He’d been offered a chief engineer position just a few years ago in Indonesia. Not a bad deal, if you wanted to live in a strange country with different customs and languages. He hadn’t. It suddenly sounded more attractive than it had back then.
Now was not the time to be picky and narrow his job search. He put his short resume on an accumulator that would share it with many sites and left the search parameters wide open to any country. He listed no minimum salary but asked them to present the job openings' highest salaries first. Since he set it up that way it displayed the jobs with the offered salary as the header. That also eliminated those who didn’t wish to make any hard salary offer. They would appear at the very end of the list.
The first offering came up with a salary header of one million five hundred thousand Australian dollars per annum. That was so unexpected and outrageous Frederick exclaimed, “WHAT???” to the screen. Australian dollars ran around three to one North American dollar. Fortunately, there was nobody within earshot to ask what upset him so. He was using his own pad, but searching for a new job on company time would be frowned on. There were plenty of snitches who would be delighted to denounce him. Ten years of the Opportunity and Compensation Equalization Act had slowed his raises and accelerated the disadvantaged’s pay but still hadn’t brought all of them up to his pay level.
The next lines left him just as incredulous but under control again and he managed not to yell at his screen. The job was posted through We Can Do It employment services of Home by Singh Industries with a Kingdom of Central address on the Moon. Why would anyone on the Moon need a refinery engineer? He was certain the Moon had no petroleum or gas. The job description raised more questions than it answered.
A long-term position to develop autonomous devices to polymerize atmospheric methane and ethane to long-chain hydrocarbons, and isolate other atmospheric fractions. The principal end-product will be used as plastic feed stock. The production of fuels or lubricants is a secondary consideration. The task is unique and difficult. The conditions of low temperature and high pressure prevent the direct adaption of current technology. The equipment must operate for extended periods without direct human management. The position will operate from Central on the Moon but may require translunar travel. Subsidized cafeteria service and free lodging are perks of the job. No continuing North American or Chinese obligations. No zivies or stinks.
That might be a problem, Frederick thought. What would they consider an obligation? He didn’t have any military service so he couldn’t be called back up. The only obligation he could think of was his tax payments. If he failed to file his income tax, they would seize his accounts and make estimated payments on his behalf. Their estimates ran to the high side and were technically refundable upon filing. In reality, his heirs might someday secure a refund. He’d be better off renouncing his citizenship and paying the exit penalty. That would only take about a third of his savings. The other way he could just kiss it good-bye. Renouncing would make better sense economically. This was just the first time such an act had ever been a real possibility instead of an abstract notion. He examined his feelings and was surprised to find that wouldn’t bother him. His country hadn’t done much to incite him to loyalty in a long time.
Now the other disqualifiers… He was pretty sure he could guess what a stink was. He had a few coworkers who seemed allergic to water. It was bad enough when you could get upwind of them. In confined spaces, it must be much worse. Frederick had no idea at all what zivies were. He searched Zivies-slang and got nothing. Zivies-space-slang was also null. On a guess, he tried zivy-space-slang.
The search informed him a zivy was a specific kind of troublemaker. A person who constantly fomented trouble between others without becoming an object of their ire themselves. A font of negativity. A nexus of hostility. A long list of references included a scholarly study that linked zivies to coming from a dysfunctional family or institution. The psychologist concluded zivies were simply seeking to normalize their environment because they were uncomfortable in the absence of conflict. He wondered if that basic disorder covered his aunt Mabel. She talked non-stop and became so uncomfortable if forced to sit in silence for a few minutes that she shook. Maybe she was just trying to normalize her environment. Nobody in her family knew when to shut up.
Maybe another search would answer the apparent petroleum problem. Frederick searched for methane on other planets. The first articles that appeared dealt with methane in the Martian atmosphere. They were all old, and as far as he could tell the question of its source had never been answered. Then on the third page of the results, he started seeing information about Titan’s atmosphere. He hadn’t imagined methane would be so abundant on a moon. That seemed the only possibility to match the ad. Could the people at Central transport materials economically from as far away as Saturn?
He'd call the number and ask that and other questions, but he didn’t want the call to originate from his work. Not even with a multiple redirected VPN and encryption.
* * *
Jenifer closed the scheduling program and sat back with a dramatic sigh.
“All the jobs are covered including the delivery reservations for tomorrow. It’s late enough we should be done for the day. Ian got some sleep this afternoon, so he can cover any insomniacs who pop up wanting a midnight snack delivered. I know this is your original business but it takes much more personal attention and time than any of the others. I’m not sure it makes sense to keep working at it so many hours a day, when other businesses give you a better return for your time spent. You might consider hiring a director to run it for you, or buy a really good AI to take customer calls and schedule services.”
“Is that a veiled offer to take it over and direct all your time and efforts to the courier business?” Eric asked.
“No. It could easily take one person’s attention full time but I enjoy the variety of helping with your other businesses. Doing nothing but courier scheduling would be boring. The only fun part of it right now is when we get a new customer or something that requires discretion. Then I can run out and do a delivery personally. If I took over doing this full-time, I’d miss working with you,” Jenifer said.
That was what Eric wanted to hear and wasn’t sure how to ask. It encouraged him to continue with the other questions and proposals he had.
“I’ve been thinking that I need to make some changes too,” Eric admitted. “I’m getting pressure from Sylvia to seek my majority vote. When that happens, I believe she’ll move on to the next logical thing. She’ll say I’m an adult and need to be out on my own.”
“I’m aware of your cash flow,” Jenifer said. “I think you could afford a small one-bedroom. Either to rent or I’m pretty sure Irwin would write you a loan for a small cubic if you can offer a decent down payment.”
“I agree. I could do that but then the majority of my income would be diverted to paying for housing instead of expanding business or seeking new opportunities. It seems to me I’d be limiting myself and resigned to missing opportunities for years,” Eric said.
“Yeah, but you need somewhere to live,” Jenifer said. “A lot of people are stuck in less-than-ideal situations with the housing shortage. I’m stuck living with my dad and brother. They take the two bedrooms because I work crazy irregular hours and can come in and sleep in the living room without waking them up. Of course, they wake me up when they come out in the morning no matter how late I came in. You wouldn’t last long in hot slots. Nobody does. They all hate it and get out as soon as they can. Zero g housing is almost as bad. You need to take drugs and the commute eats up your valuable time.”
“The solution I’m contemplating is to go ahead and ask for my majority vote but move on to the Moon. My dad is there and they have no housing shortage at all. They have a shortage of good people, and if I don’t have the courier and used electronics business everything else is much less time-intensive and can be run remotely. If for some reason I get down voted Diana has offered me couch rights. So, I have a backup plan, The biggest problem is if I can go to the Moon, I’d miss working with you too, terribly. I’m proposing to take you with me to the Moon. I’d offer you a full partnership in everything as part of a marriage contract.”
“I’d given up thinking you’d ever feel that way,” Jenifer said.
“I’ve felt that way a long time but you can’t make contracts unless you are an adult. I have no interest in a casual relationship.” Eric said. “It’s never good to have an affair with an employee even if you would agree. I’d have too much power over you and you’d eventually resent it and feel I didn’t value you enough. What was I supposed to do? Ask Sylvia if I could move you in with me?”
“She might have surprised you, but like you, I wouldn’t have wanted that,” Jenifer said. “I’m not an adult either. I can’t contract with you unless I seek a vote and it goes my way.”
“Do you have any doubt you’d pass? When my mom was here, she’d have voted against me until I was forty. How would your dad vote?”
“I think he’d be supportive. He wouldn’t be losing a daughter, he’d be gaining a living room. I think a lot of my business contacts would vote yes. I never had any pressing reason to seek my majority before now,” Jenifer said.
“If you accept my proposal, I’ll help you lobby with a wide variety of people to assure your majority is granted. If you get down voted, I’d be willing to sleep on Diana’s couch until the next Assembly and you can try again. Do you want to marry me and be my business partner?”
“Of course, I do, silly. I accept, if we can just pull off everything needed.”
“I have no doubt we can,” Eric said. “Now is when we use our credit with April, Heather, and Jeff to ask for their help. They have the ear of people who might not take us seriously.”
“Sylvia and your sister too,” Jenifer said. “Sylvia doesn’t want any office for herself. She’s having too much fun and profit as an artist. But she has far more influence with the decision-makers than she lets on. I think she’s taken Lindsey under her wing like a daughter. She is giving her lessons in power politics and is introducing her to all the right people.”
“That’s good to hear you say. I know Lindsey has her majority, but I was worried Sylvia might be taking advantage of my sister.”
“That’s funny. I had the same concern hearing Diana might have you as a roomie.”
Jenifer scrunched her eyebrows together processing a new thought.
“Who would you sell the courier and electronics business to? And would they be willing to wait if we’re delayed? Could you just go ahead and sell them early?”
“To your brother. You mean he’s said nothing?”
“He wouldn’t tell me if the sun was going to blow up tomorrow. He’d say, ‘You didn’t ask.’”
“What else?” Eric asked thinking furiously.
“Well, if we have the hard parts all figured out you could kiss me.”
* * *
“Did our explorers find anything interesting?” April asked.
“Interesting, yes. Profitable or someplace you’d like to live, no,” Heather said. “If we ever need lots and lots of sulfur, they found a planet with an abundance of volcanoes that have halos of sulfur and long tails of it downwind from them. You could scoop it up with a front loader. But the atmosphere is so hazy with sulfuric acid I’d hate to expose a lander to it. The crew named it Little Hades. They’re all stark raving mad, you know.”
“That’s funny,” April said. “They accuse me of the same thing.”
Heather just smiled warmly at her. “There was another world covered with water and no land at all. That’s pretty useless unless we live in boats.”
“But it might have life in the water,” April said.
“There is at least something like algae,” Heather said, “something is putting oxygen in the atmosphere. Anything bigger like fish would be hard to see from orbit. Maybe we’ll revisit it when we have better imaging or penetrating radar.”
“I’m impatient,” Jeff admitted. “It will take some time to know if habitable planets are rare or somewhat common.”
“You know, if Mars wasn’t in the same solar system as Earth, I wouldn’t bother claiming it. I certainly wouldn’t have paid good money for it like you,” April told Jeff.
“Oh, I agree,” Jeff said. “It’s as they say, location, location, location. Give it a thousand years and I think every rock in the solar system will have value. They’ll be searching the Oort cloud for objects to claim and maybe trying to stake out rights to things like Saturn’s rings.”
Heather looked indignant. “We have to designate some things off-limits,” she declared. “Just like they have national parks on Earth. I don’t want future people to tell their children they remember when Saturn had magnificent rings but people mined them for the ice.”
“When we are sure we can enforce it tell me. I’ll see to it,” Jeff volunteered.
* * *
“We have a fifteen-kilogram luggage allowance before they start charging us extra,” Eileen said. “If you go over that the charge is about twice what it costs to box it up and ship stuff separately by UPS. I’m going to wear some old clothes to travel to the Cape and not save them. I’ll just throw them away after I’ve worn them a day. There’s not much I’m sentimental over or think will be appropriate for Home or the Moon.”
“I’d like to ship some keepsakes ahead,” Vic said. “I have two physical books and a couple of items like my binoculars that are of sentimental value. I’ll carry my favorite jacket, best boots, and jewelry or wear it rather than trust it to a shipper. Everything else I’ll leave. Alice can sell my clothing or consign them to somebody at the fair to sell.”
“I’d do that but I suspect Alice will fit in my things in another year,” Eileen said. “She might as well get some use out of them. I know we’re rich now but my mom hammered into me early not to waste anything.”
“Turns out that was good training for after The Day,” Vic said.
“She lived through some lean times. They happened for economic reasons not disaster, but still hard times. I intend to teach our children that one never knows when everything they are used to in their lives can turn upside down,” Eileen vowed.
“You’ll get no argument on that from me,” Vic said.
* * *
“Of course, dear. Come in tomorrow and we’ll look at some designs and pick something for you. Your measurements are stable so no need to take them again. You’ll be close enough to our numbers that a final fitting can go either way,” Cindy assured April. “I’m glad you didn’t wait any longer. Besides regulars, we’re getting several new customers from Heather’s party. I have reservations for fittings weeks ahead. I’ve even had appointments made ahead for Earthies passing through to the Moon.”
“I should have thought of that,” April said. “We don’t have to do anything with a lot of elaborate hand work. It can be simple but I wanted something new for such a special event.”
Cindy laughed. “I wish she’d throw a grand ball every couple of months. There are plenty of people on Home who can afford new things but the social scene is too thin to motivate them to come in and get new things.”
“You’d be shocked at the number of people urging her to have more of a social life,” April said. “Even her housekeeper keeps trying to get her to engage with people more.”
“Does she even have appropriate clothing for her own affair?” Cindy wondered. “Not that it’s any of my business but one wonders if she cares about such things.”
“When is Frank going to fit the lunar trumpeters?” April asked.
“Next week,” Cindy informed her. “We’re just waiting on some fancy brass buttons.”
“Have Frank contact her late tomorrow and ask for a time to measure her and show her some choices. I’ll inform her it’s my gift to her and ask her to make time for him. She’s too polite to decline a gift from me, large or small. I admit most have been on the small side. If I simply fetch dessert, she’ll always take a few bites. It’s about time I gifted her with something more significant than cheesecake.”
* * *
The minibus was a step up from a window van. It had the sort of expanded body behind a van cab that retirement homes and airport shuttles use. There weren’t any passengers coming in from Reno this first time. Vic and Eileen approached the bus as soon as it stopped, determined to get front seats. They showed their reservations on their phone. The driver was agreeable to them boarding immediately, but warned them it might be a half hour before they left. He pointed out they’d be sick of being on the bus soon enough. Vic pointed out they could leave one to hold the seats and let the other walk around. Since they were aboard, he left the door open.
Vic was pleased to see a huge fire extinguisher and a box of tire chains by the driver. There was a twelve-gauge pump shotgun in a locking rack on the far side of the driver’s seat. Looking to the back, the bus was reasonably clean and the upholstery wasn’t split with the stuffing falling out. It gave hope they paid as much attention to basic maintenance. It could have been much worse. The windows were all open. Either the air conditioning didn’t work or they were unwilling to use extra fuel to run it.
What he couldn’t figure out was why the last two rows of seats at the rear appeared to have been removed. They took the row directly behind the driver hoping they wouldn’t have to share the three-seat bench with anyone. They kept their small bags with them and put them on the seat beside the window. Hopefully, anybody seeing that would take a hint they didn’t want company. Neither wanted to leave once they were seated.
The next passenger was a teenage boy with a duffle bag nearly as big as him. He looked frightened. A couple the Foys assumed were his parents hugged and talked to him then stood off waiting to see him off. He took a seat across the aisle and planted his duffle between his spread knees. Vic wondered if he was a Texan military recruit. They’d had a booth for that at the fair.
An older man with a cane and an ancient suitcase entered mounting the steps with difficulty. Vic stood to help him but the man waved him away. He took a seat two rows behind them. The next passengers were a family of four and they demonstrated why the seats were removed in the back. They seemed to be making a household move with not only luggage but boxes of household goods. They opened the rear hatch and loaded them in the open rear space. Some of the cardboard boxes were in rough condition and the contents were over-stuffed. Vic was surprised any cardboard boxes still survived from before The Day. All of theirs were long ago falling apart and used for fire starters. Boxes and plastic bags were very low-priority items to import.
Blankets and a couple of quilts were just folded up and tied with a cord. Some sheets were gathered around soft shapes of clothes or linens and the corners were tied off to make a bundle. It was all piled high with the boxes on the bottom but it still used most of the open space at the rear. Their luggage came forward with them and was piled on a three-person bench seat. The family of four managed to take up three rows of seats on the other side of the aisle. The parents each took a seat fore and aft of the luggage. The boys were separated one with each parent.”
“This is going to be interesting if they’ve sold all the seats,” Vic said softly to Eileen.
The driver came back with a travel mug of coffee and set it in a holder. He sat on the edge of his seat and turned towards them.
“We have one more passenger coming and we’ll get started,” he announced.
“I thought five hundred dollars a seat was expensive,” Eileen said, “but I don’t see how they can make any money hauling eight passengers.”
“They won’t,” Vic agreed, “but I’m sure they have other buses and routes to carry it until they build up a clientele. They’ll have people coming in from Reno too.”
“I’m not sure what would attract anyone to come here,” Eileen said.
“I predict it will be sold out whenever we have a fair, and Mr. Mast told me a dentist from Reno intends to come in and have a week-long clinic after a mail campaign to let everyone know when he’ll be available.
“That’s good,” Eileen agreed. “We’ve been lucky not to need a filling or an extraction. We should both have a cleaning now that we can again.”
“It might have less to do with luck and more that there has been almost no sugar in our diet. The same with most folks since The Day. I imagine that will change now. I bet the visiting dentist can pull a tooth but if you need one forced to regrow, you’ll have to go to his clinic in Reno. That and other medical stuff available in Reno will eventually fill seats on the bus. Maybe in a year, they’ll need to send a regular coach instead of a mini.”
Eileen looked thoughtful. “If we do come back to visit sometime everything will be changed, won’t it?”
Vic just gave an affirmative nod. The last passenger arrived. He was a middle-aged man all alone with a single piece of soft-sided luggage. He took a seat half way to the back that put an empty row between him and the family. Nobody seemed particularly friendly or chatty which was just fine with Vic.
“I’m John,” the driver announced in a loud voice. “You can inspect my license if you wish.” He pointed to it in a holder on the overhead. “We’ll be about an hour getting to route 395. The county roads are rough with debris and I need to go slow. On the long upgrades, I go slower than you may expect to save fuel. Once on route 395, we’ll have a rest area come up quickly. There’s no water to the restrooms but locals have dug latrines because it was an unsanitary condition near their community. They’ve also posted notice that if anyone stays there more than a single night they’ll be asked to move on.
“We’ll be stopping later at Doyle where several businesses make outhouses available to customers but not the public. Then we’ll stop late in the trip at the Secret Valley rest area. That rest area is fully functional with flush toilets and electricity. If you ask me to stop anywhere else you are on your own for privacy. I suggest you just go behind the bus rather than take any chances going away from the road. If you go off in the woods, I’m not going searching for you. I’ll give it a half hour for you to return and then report to the highway patrol at what mile marker you disappeared. On the county roads, you are unlikely to have any other traffic pass us. Once on 395, we will see occasional vehicles going both ways.
“I have a limited number of rolls of toilet paper for ten bucks a roll. There will be food and drinks to be bought at Doyle. There’s a ten-liter water jug with a spigot behind my seat. It isn’t cold but it’s safe. I’m not anti-social but the company rule is if you want to talk to me, I have to pull over and stop rather than drive distracted. The trip will take about three and a half hours unless we have problems or any of you cause us to delay. Any questions?”
When there were no questions, he turned to the front and put his belt on before he started the bus. His screen lit up with his GPS route already entered. He thumbed the finger print lock on the shotgun rack and folded the lock bar out of the way. It had been so long since they’d ridden in a powered vehicle that it felt strange as they pulled away.
It wasn’t five minutes before the lady across the aisle dug in their abundant luggage and distributed corn bread and jars of soup to her family. It wasn’t ten o’clock yet but maybe that was their breakfast too.
Chapter 14
“How are we doing with the preparations to go back to Prairie?” Heather asked.
“I anticipate we’ll be ready,” Bobby said. “The Earth bureaucracy has made some things difficult. Mr. Foy had quite a list of drugs and medications he wanted to have available and we can’t just buy them. We had to get prescriptions from licensed veterinaries. It was the same across all the developed countries. Vets were afraid to provide them without a specific animal with an ear tag number and a case history to tie it all together. They can lose their license if any step of the regulations is skipped. Fortunately, some of the third-world countries aren’t as fussy. We had no trouble buying small field equipment from Japan but getting them lifted to orbit was an ordeal. We had to partially disassemble them to meet weight and dimensional limits. We’re doing a full tear-down when they get here anyway, so that was just a matter of carefully documenting the partial disassembly in Japan. The Hawaiian fellow, Nick, we hired as a temp is doing the rest of the tear-down here. He worked out very well and we hired him for at least a six-month gig.”
April looked up with sudden interest. “What’s this Nick’s last name?” she asked.
“Naito,” Bobby said. “It doesn’t sound very Hawaiian, does it?”
April was incredulous. “Don’t you know who he is? Didn’t Jeff tell you?”
“Jeff hasn’t come by to watch us disassembling the harvester and tractor. I’ve never had a chance to introduce Nick to him. Jeff can’t involve himself with everything that needs to be done. There aren’t enough hours in the day for him to be personally involved with everything. It’s good that he can delegate and trust us to take care of certain things ourselves. Nick has been a self-starter and seems very intelligent. What do you mean by who he is? All I know is the temp agency sent him for a one-day evaluation and I was pleased to keep him.”
“Jeff already knows him. I’m not telling this well,” April said, frustrated. “Naito is, was I guess, the Hawaiian official who got Jeff and Love together on the island to hammer out our treaty with North America.
“Oh. I don’t pay much attention to politics,” Bobby admitted. “I wouldn’t have remembered Love being North America’s guy if you hadn’t just mentioned him. If he and Jeff know each other why did he hire through an agency?”
“I don’t know. It’s even stranger than that. He was my caretaker for my Hawaiian home. He sent me a message he had to quit, but he made sure one of his cousins took over to keep the place safe and occupied. But not a word to me that he was coming to the Moon. My neighbor from down there didn’t say a word either. None of it makes sense,” April said.
“He worked a government job and took care of your house too?” Bobby asked.
“He was my caretaker when he was a revolutionary, long before they won and he got a respectable ministry position. The house required so little work it was more like free rent. He had his own little caretaker’s cottage. He just had to make sure nobody broke in and call the appropriate tradesmen if something needed to be serviced. Mostly, I trusted him not to abuse the position or slack off in the few duties that mattered without me supervising him. He was pretty thick with the neighbor lady too. She’s also a friend who shuttles back and forth between Home and Hawaii and she didn’t say anything. She’s not normally so reticent.”
“All that’s interesting but I’d rather not get involved in personal relationships,” Bobby said. “He works well for me with minimal supervision just like he did for you. I’d rather not ask him personal questions that have nothing to do with his duties. I especially don’t want to pry into my worker's Earth histories. They can report all kinds of negative things about a person that are subjective, irrational, and mean nothing up here. You can go ask him yourself if you really feel you need to know his full story.”
“Maybe later,” April decided. “First, I’ll ask the neighbor lady, Diana, what’s going on. And why she didn’t tell me when she volunteers so many other things, April thought.
* * *
April waited until Bobby was gone and Heather was busy with business to call Diana. She felt just as relaxed at Heather's as at her own home. She composed herself, not wanting Diana to think she was upset with her. When she entered her ID on the com desk there was a message from Eric Pennington. He didn’t leave a message but asked her to return his call. Eric had a mid-range priority to send her messages but very rarely called her. Usually, it was her or Jeff calling him to request some service. She didn’t think he’d ever called her video and voice.
When April returned his call, Eric looked nervous and worried. She resisted the urge to turn on the veracity software. Eric deserved her trust. Instinctively, she knew this wasn’t a business call so she tried to put him at ease by saying: “What ya want, sweetie?”
That broke the ice and Eric got a big grin. His shoulders eased back to their normal angle and his eyebrows stopped trying to meet each other.
“I’ve got a complicated problem and hoping you’d help me. Do you have a few minutes to let me explain it to you?”
“I’ve got a couple of hours if you need it,” April said. “I’ll tell you when I need a bathroom break if you go on and on.”
“I think I can say it shorter than that. I’m being urged to seek my majority by Sylvia. I suspect when that happens, she’ll want me to cut the cord and find my own place to live. I don’t have any problem with that. It does seem like it’s time. The complicated part is that Home is so expensive I’d like to go to the Moon. I can sell my used electronics and the courier business and everything else I can do from the Moon.
“Jenifer is much more than my assistant. We’d like to get married and be business partners. To be able to form contracts she needs to be voted her majority too. I’m pretty sure I can get a yes vote, but we aren’t nearly as certain about her. Would you have a quiet word with whoever you think would be best to see we both get approved?”
“I wouldn’t have any problem with sponsoring you, not just voting yes. I’ll mention it to those with whom you’ve done business. A lot of those people know you are serious and dependable. You’ve demonstrated you’re an adult that way. It also helps to do adult things. You sat at the big people’s table to come to the Fox and Hare for my dinner party. I’ll mention you are going to ask for your majority to all the other guests.”
“That’s exactly the sort of thing I was hoping you could do. Thank you for helping us.”
“I’ll take you back to the Fox and Hare, but out in the public part, not hidden back in a party room. I’ll tell Detweiler, the maître d’, exactly why I’m doing that and get a prominent table. My treat,” April said quickly. “They won’t present a bill because I’m an owner.”
“That’s very generous of you,” Eric said.
April got a wicked grin. “You know Heather from the courier business, though she doesn’t come to visit us at Home nearly as much as we’d like. Especially if you are moving to the Moon, it would serve you well to let other people know you are acquainted. She is going to have a big party, a state ball soon. Not the sort of event where you bring children. I’ll see that you get an invitation. I’ll make sure she chats with you there. Can you afford to come to the Moon and dress formally?”
“Honest, April. I’m doing really well. I’m just not ready to pay the kind of money you need to rent or buy on Home. It would put a real crimp in growing my businesses to divert that much income to housing.”
“Well, if Jenifer isn’t as well funded or uncertain what to wear to a state function send her to Cindy at Cindy and Frank’s and tell Cindy I said to take care of her.”
“Oh good, thank you, because I’d have no idea what was proper. May I assume a tuxedo would work for me?”
“That would be fine.” April made a show of shifting her head from side to side like she was examining him. “You’ve really filled out. I’m looking forward to seeing you in a tux. I suspect you may clean up nicely. Lucky Jenifer.”
Eric’s blush was visible on the screen and he thanked her and terminated quickly.
April considered if she wanted to call Diana after all. It was probably good Eric interrupted her. She finally admitted to herself she was put out with Diana and it would show it no matter how careful she was. She’d call her later when her feelings eased.
* * *
“It’s really beautiful on this side of the mountains,” Eileen said. “We should have grabbed seats on the right side. The view is better.” And wasted on that family, she thought. They had several very unhappy discussions too low to hear exactly what their issues were but it was not all joy and lightness in that family. The two boys managed to irritate each other even separated by the seat with luggage. They squabbled until the father cuffed the front one across the ear and told him to turn around.
“It’s scenic, but speaking as a rancher it’s a lot drier,” Vic said. “Too dry. It gets worse way to the south. This road drops until it ends up in Death Valley, below sea level.”
“I’ve heard of that, but my folks never made that one of our trips. We drove up the coast road and once to Yosemite, but it was horribly crowded,” Eileen remembered. “My dad declared once was enough after we sat for hours in traffic waiting to get in. We had to sit until a bunch of people left and then they allowed as many in.”
Vic looked thoughtful. “I wonder if anybody lives there now, or if the park service still functions to keep people from permanently settling there? It would be fairly easy to block off the access roads from what I remember.”
“Keeping people out makes it hard for you to get outside supplies. Look at what a hardship that was for us just from the distance to supply, and we didn’t cut our roads or drop bridges. I bet there are pockets of people, communities that survived by being isolated somehow all over the south,” Eileen said. “I can’t see southern California ever restoring huge cities like Los Angeles. But there will be places with interesting histories about how they survived if somebody has the foresight to write them down for us.”
“With the life extension, maybe we’ll be around as they get reconnected to the outside,” Vic said. “It looks to me like they’ll find they are now Texans like we did.”
“Not Mexicans?” Eileen wondered.
Vic made a derisive snort. “The Mexicans are going to be Texans,” he predicted.
* * *
April apprised Mr. Muños of Eric and Jenifer’s desire to marry and the necessity of granting their majorities so they could contract that and business things too.
“No kidding? Did you think I was struck with sudden blindness not to notice the young people? She looked like she intended to have him for dessert,” Muños said.
“Indeed, she does seem taken with him,” April agreed. “He may not show it as obviously as Jenifer but he’s very committed to her. I’m just sorry we won’t see him at our door delivering things anymore.”
“I predict you’ll see him, and her, more often than you think. I’ll be happy to help your young couple attain their goals when the vote comes up,” Muños promised.
* * *
The rest area at Secret Valley had running water and electricity as promised. That didn’t mean anybody was coming and cleaning it or cutting the grass. The Foys took their small bags with them since there was no way to lock them up. Eileen took one sniff at the door to the ladies’ room and turned around. She found a semi-private corner shielded by the overgrown landscaping and did her business out there with Vic standing in front of her. Vic informed her grim-faced that the men’s room wasn’t any better. He didn’t go in but the dad and two boys from the family went in while the mother watched their things.
When they returned to the bus there was much drama. While the father was in a stall the boys got into it and one punched the other in the nose. They came back to the bus with it still bleeding and the front of his shirt soaked. It amused Vic that the bleeder who got the worst of it was the bigger boy. There were loud accusations and reminders of a long list of previous injuries and injustices.
His mom packed his nostrils with material ripped from the back of his shirt to get the bleeding stopped. She ignored all the complaints but gave her husband some accusing glances. The driver didn’t wait for them to sort things out before leaving. She got a ragged towel she moistened from the driver’s water jug and cleaned the kid up as well as she could. They found him a t-shirt in their bags that wasn’t much better than a rag and tossed the torn and bloody shirt and towel out the window.
When they crossed over the line into Nevada and approached Reno, the number of junk cars pushed well off the road surprised Vic. It would appear to be too expensive now to waste time and fuel to tow them away if they weren’t blocking traffic. A few of the nicer ones had wheels and tires missing. When they got within a day’s walk of Reno, they started seeing homeless encampments. They were shocked anyone could live in a tent or shack in this climate. A lot of the camps were built around a car that hadn’t moved in a long time. Vic noticed most of the tent dwellers had a tarp placed above the tent for a sun shield.
“I noticed something,” Eileen said quietly, “a lot of the cars have California plates.”
“You think they were the people who fled early after The Day while there was still fuel and the roads weren’t grid-locked?” Vic asked.
“Yeah, as soon as it hit the news and they didn’t believe the story it was an earthquake for a second. It didn’t do them much good, did it? Eileen asked.
“I don’t know about that. They’re alive, aren’t they? If they’d waited a day, they would never have made it here,” Vic pointed out.
People outside cooking or sitting on lawn furniture watched them pass. Nobody looked particularly friendly. Vic decided he would hate to break down out here.
As they got further into town, they passed a couple of strip malls that were vacant with weeds growing in the parking lot. A couple of old-fashioned motels had signs that said closed instead of vacancy.
The bus station was so old it had a sun-faded Greyhound sign on the corner but it was locked up and dark with grimy windows. There was one older car with sun-damaged paint parked in the fenced lot next to the building. The driver opened the gate and pulled in close beside the car. John announced the end of the line and told everybody to get all their possessions for sure. He’d be locking up and not be back until tomorrow morning if they forgot anything. The Foys let everyone else jam the aisle in their rush to get off. The family had a man waiting for them with a pickup truck and the middle-aged man walked away purposefully. The old guy had a teenager on a motor scooter pick him up.
John opened the doors of the car to let the hot air out while everyone was leaving but didn’t waste gas by starting it to run the air conditioning. Vic noted he kept the shotgun and didn’t put it in the car but kept it close to his hand. He looked at them with concern when they stepped off last.
“Do you have a ride coming?”
“We have a reservation at the Holiday Inn,” Vic told him. “We looked on the map and picked it because it’s only a couple of hundred meters from your terminal address.”
He grimaced. “Are you armed?”
Vic didn’t like that line of inquiry but decided it was from genuine concern.
“We’re flying the morning commuter to Phoenix and on to North American territory so we left our weapons behind,” Vic explained.
“You look too clean and prosperous to be walking around unarmed here,” John said. “Hop in and I’ll drop you off safely at your hotel.”
“If you’re going that way, thank you,” Vic said.
“I’m not, but it’s only a few hundred meters as you said. I’d feel responsible if you didn’t make it. I’ll come back past here. That’s good to do anyway in case somebody is waiting for me to leave to mess with the bus.”
He opened the rear door and they both got in the back seat. It was like a sauna even with sun shields on the windshield and the doors open to let the worst of the hot air out.
He stopped and pulled the gate shut and locked it before driving away. The razor wire on top of the fence and gate said he was right about it being a bad neighborhood.
When they got to the hotel the air conditioning was just starting to be felt and they were both sweaty. The car was much hotter than the bus. Vic handed him a hundred-dollar bill.
“For your care. Thank you, John.” He didn’t turn the money down.
* * *
“I realize it’s last minute to get anything made for the Moon Queen’s ball. We were just invited yesterday,” Eric said waving the invitation like she might require proof. “April Lewis said to ask you to take care of Jenifer.”
Jenifer let Eric ask and was embarrassed to impose or need to invoke April by name.
Cindy was no dummy and had dealt with young people before.
“Do you need to be taken care of also?” Cindy demanded.
“April said I’m good to go in a tux. The ship’s chandlery has some in a few common sizes and I can go down there while you are working with Jenifer.”
“That’s not going to happen right now,” Cindy informed him. “We have a client at the moment in the dressing room and are booked up solid until quitting time. If you want to pick something for Jenifer, you’ll have to give us time to have supper and come back at nineteen hundred hours.”
“I’m sorry, I just didn’t see any customers. I appreciate you working with us after hours,” Eric said.
“And as far as you getting an off-the-rack tuxedo, it would require more work to fit it to you properly than making it new. We’ll consider you an accessory to Jenifer’s outfit. I don’t want you to accompany her looking like a sack of potatoes.”
Eric grimaced. “I’ve never seen a sack of potatoes but I can’t imagine there’s any way to make one attractive.”
“You visualize it quite accurately then,” Cindy said. “Shall we see you at nineteen hundred?”
“Yes, certainly, and thank you again,” Eric said and retreated quickly.
* * *
“It’s simple,” Diana informed April when she called. “Nick didn’t feel any communication from him would be welcome. The last time he spoke with Jeff didn’t end well. As he described it to me, Nick was the supplicant and had nothing to offer Jeff in return for making himself a stink to the Earthies again. He just dumped the moral imperative on him to take the least bad course of action. If he’s wrong about where that left him with Jeff, that’s on him. I wasn’t involved in any of it to know if he was right or wrong. I want to count all of you as friends and won’t choose to get between you if there are any arguments or ill feelings. Nick came up because they thanked him for saving a few billion lives about like Jeff foresaw they’d thank him. They’ve been trying to kill him and he figured out given enough time they’d succeed.”
“Did they actually try or did they just scare him off with threats?” April asked.
“They shot at him when he was out in the pool house and they blew up my car when he was returning up the ridge to your house.”
“OK, they were serious,” April admitted. “Honestly, I don’t think Jeff holds a grudge anything like Nick assumes, but I’m not sure he’d believe me.”
“If Jeff is as easy going as you think, encourage him to let Nick know directly,” Diana said. “That eliminates worrying about how believable you are to him if he hears it straight from the horse’s mouth.”
“That’s another very strange idiom,” April said. “But I do take your meaning.”
* * *
“I didn’t handle that well,” Eric told Jenifer out in the corridor.
“You made a few wrong assumptions but fixed it entirely and redeemed yourself by agreeing with whatever Cindy wants. That’s the tack to take. I sense she’s used to being in charge. I think she likes you,” Jenifer said.
“Whatever gave you that idea?” Eric asked
“If she didn’t, she could have just let you show up in a ready-made that looks awful.”
“Or maybe she likes you too much to let a sack of potatoes escort you,” Eric said.
After a bit and thinking on it he decided, “But if that’s the reason I’ll take it, since it ends up with the same good result.”
“Smart,” Jenifer told him. “You set aside your ego.”
“I have an ego?” Eric said rhetorically and didn’t wait for an answer he didn’t want to hear.” Do you have any idea what you want?” Eric asked. “I know I want a tux and there isn’t much choice there. I’m not interested in something cheesy like crushed velvet.”
“I intend to tell her to make me look good and put myself entirely in her hands.”
“This is why you’re my assistant. You’re smart as well as beautiful. I’ll do the same.”
* * *
The Holiday Inn had seen better times. The glass entry doors had hand and finger prints all smudged along the edge. The carpet inside had dingy tracks identifying the heavy traffic areas and the fake plastic plants were grey with dust.
The front desk was manned by a teenager who regarded them with dead eyes. He did ask if he could help them but it was perfunctory. Vic wouldn’t have been surprised if he had a written script behind the counter to say that.
“You have a reservation for tonight for Foy. We have a morning flight out,” Vic said.
The kid had an amused smile. Vic realized from the lack of vehicles outside and them being the only guests in the lobby that no reservation had been needed.
“Given the state of your lobby, I’d like to see the room before check-in,” Vic decided.
“You’re past the cancellation time,” the clerk said, “but knock yourself out.” He offered a swipe card with 103 written on it with a magic marker.
The elevator was at the back of the lobby with a sign on it that said the second-floor level was not in service and inaccessible by elevator. The ground floor hallway split at the elevators and the east side was closed off with caution tape and a sign that announced it was under renovation. The fact it was a week day and the hallway dark with no workmen in evidence labeled that a little white lie.
All the lights worked but the lamps were of such low wattage the hall was a dark cave with periodic circles of light. Fortunately, room 103 was the second door from the lobby where the light from its windows still penetrated. The room was dark with heavy drapes pulled shut. Eileen went to open those unasked and Vic flipped all the switches for the room lights. He tried the faucets and shower to make sure they ran and drained as well as flushing the toilet. Eileen turned on the air to test it and pulled back the covers to make sure the sheets weren’t used. Vic joined her and looked under the mattress for bed bugs.
“It’ll do, barely,” he allowed.
“Yeah, I’m underwhelmed,” Eileen agreed. “Business must be terrible. They have three-quarters of the place shut down.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if they are cannibalizing the shutoff rooms for furniture or stuff like air conditioners instead of repairing or replacing them as they go bad. I thought about calling someplace else but if things are this slow, the other hotels are probably struggling as badly.”
“And we’d have to call a ride not knowing if they are any better. The air works,” she said testing it with her hand. “I can deal with this room. I may sleep on top of the covers though. Please make sure they still have an airport shuttle like it says on their website.”
“OK, I need to ask for towels and soap anyway. I’ll ask then.”
“I’ll wash all the touch points when we come back. I wish I’d thought to get some antiseptic wipes or spray,” Eileen said.
“Yeah, we share a shuttle with two other hotels,” the clerk said. “They used to run all day as fast as they could turn around. Now they make one run, stopping at all three places at six a.m., noon, and five o’clock. You have to call a cab if that’s not convenient or you have a late-night flight.”
Vic had to tell the clerk they required two towels and washcloths. He had his card in hand but pointedly waited to tap his card on the pay screen until the clerk brought another towel and washcloth.
“I’m predicting this place will be out of business in a year,” Vic told Eileen.
“The whole place could be a ghost town in a couple of years,” she agreed. “We’d just have to take a bus further east or south to get an air connection.”
“It’s not that far south to Lake Tahoe,” Vic said. “I bet the rich folks there didn’t allow homeless camps to get started.”
“That could be. I don’t want to ask. It might get folks upset. Especially if you are right. Maybe the Texans will help this town recover now that it’s theirs,” Eileen said.
“Maybe,” Vic allowed, unconvinced.
* * *
Eric and Jenifer were at the tailor shop ten minutes early and sat on a bench in the corridor. The foot traffic was very light this late. Frank came out a little early, unlocked the door, and waved for them to come in. He left the closed sign showing.
“Hello dear,” Cindy said. “We’ll do Jenifer first. Eric will be very simple. We have patterns for several styles of tux and the machine could match them to his measurements easily. What do you want to wear to the ball, dear?”
“I live in cargo shorts and a t-shirt. I know nothing of fashion so I’ll leave it up to you to make me look as good as possible.”
“A blank slate. I love working like that,” Cindy said rubbing her hands together in anticipation. “Do you at least have a favorite color?”
“I’m very partial to blue,” Jenifer admitted.
“That matches her eyes,” Eric volunteered.
The way he said that with a goofy grin made Frank and Cindy look at each other. They refrained from saying anything. It was obvious he was entranced, badly, or maybe goodly.
“Step on the spot there on the floor, please. We’ll do a scan just standing, then when I tell you with your arms out level, and lastly with your arms stretched overhead.”
It didn’t take long and Jenifer didn’t have to disrobe with the updated scanner.
“Let’s let the machine show you some possible gowns,” Cindy said patting the stool beside her at the table. Frank and Eric were ensconced in upholstered chairs.
“You’re so nicely thin and tall we don’t want a full skirt. Something straight will show off your figure,” Cindy suggested. “It should be slit above the knee so you can walk freely and it will give peeks at your lovely legs.”
“I’m not used to showing that much skin on the top,” Jenifer said. “It looks like it’s ready to fall off if you sneeze. It looks cool too. It would be a shame to neutralize what you are trying to achieve there with a sweater.”
“Perhaps this,” Cindy suggested. “It’s more modest with a scoop collar and fairly wide straps. Do you mind having bare arms?”
“No, that looks very nice but kind of plain.”
“We can fix that,” Cindy assured her. She changed it to a glittery fabric but still the pale blue. “It can be shaded in lighter or darker areas,” she said demonstrating.
The blue glitter darkened down the left side and stayed light on the right.
“Oh nice,” Jenifer said and watched as the simulation took a few steps and pivoted.
“Could you possibly twist it a little,” Jenifer asked twisting her hands opposite each other, “so instead of straight up and down the dark part angles across the back and the light part does the same across the front?
“I could make a designer of you,” Cindy complimented her. It was a complicated command to type in the machine but she got it after a moment.
“Yes, but just a little less contrast. The darker part should get lighter.”
“Yes indeed. It works,” Cindy agreed. “If you would be happy not having an exclusive, I’ll pay you three thousand Australian for the pattern and credit you as the designer,” Cindy offered. “I wouldn’t mess with it anymore. It’s perfect as is. It’ll work in other colors too.”
“Is there that much demand for dress designs?” Jenifer asked. “It seemed like an obvious extension of your original idea.”
“You’re sweet but I’d have never put that twist on it. I make about half our income sitting and noodling ideas like this. I’d have copyrighted the design even if it was just for you to prevent somebody from stealing it outright. They’d have to change it significantly to get around that. There are thousands and thousands of copyrighted patterns but the chances of someone else on Home buying it are slim. Let’s let the program animate it better and see what you think.”
The electronic model walked away turned and did a few dance steps. A generic male form took her hand and did some ballroom dancing. Then the figure retreated to a seat.
“Oh my. It doesn’t leave anything about my, uh, rear end to the imagination.”
“Yes, it’s glittery but the fabric is still soft and drapes nicely even in lunar gravity.”
When Jenifer still looked dubious Cindy was blunt “Honey, there are women who spend thousands of dollars on surgery trying to look like that. It rarely succeeds at creating what you have for free. If my butt looked like that, believe me, I’d flaunt it. Is that a good look?” Cindy directed her question toward the men.
Frank just looked at the ceiling and fanned himself with one hand.
“Excuse him,” Cindy said. “We just had life extension done and it’s working really well.”
“Oh yes,” Eric agreed, “you said she should make you look good. She succeeded.”
“Don’t worry, Honey. You’re blushing now but you can’t keep it up for hours. It will fade away when you get busy having fun.
“OK. Leave it just like that. I’ll take your design fee and we can move on to Eric.”
“Thank you, dear. Now, do you want to look at tuxedos or do you want to be advised?”
“I’d like to see my image with the various styles of tuxedo, but put me on the screen beside Jenifer so we can see how they go together. Then advise me.”
“That’s a wonderful idea. I’ll have Frank run your fitting. He’s got more experience with men’s wear. Step right up on the magic circle,” Cindy invited.
“Understand dear, I don’t doubt you at all but I haven’t seen one of these invitations. I was told each is unique. Would you mind showing it to me?”
“Oh sure. It’s neat,” Jenifer said. She got in Eric’s things he’d left on the table and handed it to Cindy. The text was in one language for them. The ink plain black but very nice calligraphy. Instead of a botanical theme the young lovers got various sizes of gold leaf hearts scattered in the paper. It made Cindy smile.
* * *
“What did he expect?” Jeff asked. “That I’d be happy about it?”
“No, but Nick felt it was a permanent breach between the two of you. He paid a price for making it happen too,” April told him. “Somebody took such exception to it that they were trying to kill him.”
“Well, I know what that feels like,” Jeff said.
“He lost his job too. All I’m saying is he overreacted to your irritation at having their problem dumped on you to solve. It would be big of you to let him know you don’t hold it against him.”
“What makes you so sure I don’t?” Jeff asked.
“It would be petty and unfair,” April insisted. “You should stifle it if you do. What would you think of him if he just ignored it and let a global pandemic get loose because he didn’t want to upset you?”
“Hmm… Put that way, he was morally right to risk upsetting me or outright alienating me, if it saved billions of innocent lives. That would be worth just about any personal loss if you have any trace of decency.”
“Your life even,” April agreed. “Will you make nice-nice with him then? At least let him know you approve of his necessity even though it was personally difficult.”
“Honestly, I’m not going to be able to look at his face and talk with him without feeling depressed and horrified at what I had to do. It just brings it all back and I’m experiencing that right now talking about it. But you are correct and I’ll force myself to do it. Maybe it will get better with time, I hope.”
“I bet if you talk to him about it, he regrets the necessity of it just like you.”
Jeff got a deep thoughtful expression considering it.
“That’s a new idea to me. I’ll admit I’ve grown to expect Earthies to do horrid things without a twinge of conscience. They can’t all be that bad,” he admitted.
April counted that a win. She remembered going along with Gunny to the clinic for PTS treatments. Maybe Jeff would benefit from that if she could just propose it tactfully enough.
Chapter 15
“Your tux should be ready in an hour if you want to wait for it, but the fabric for Jenifer’s dress is being knit. It won’t be ready until late tomorrow. The glitter is individually positioned and bonded permanently, so it’s a slow process. We won’t use the spray on stuff that will start shedding after a few years,” Cindy said.
“We’ve already taken a big chunk of your evening. I can pick up my tux when we come for Jenifer’s dress. Would you like payment now?”
“April said to take care of you. I take that to mean it’s her gift. If I’m wrong, she’ll tell me. That one’s not shy. She’s gifted others much more than your modest order. Jenifer’s dress may require some fitting, though the program often does the fit dead on for slim people. Your tux should fit just fine. See you tomorrow then if you don’t want to wait.”
“I didn’t want to tell her I was too nervous to eat before our appointment,” Jenifer said in the corridor. “Let’s go get something light that won’t disturb our sleep.”
“Why not? We’re right there. Do you see now why I cultivated these three and handled their account personally?”
“Oh yes, I’m ready to agree it was very smart and the benefits aren’t just temporary. It isn’t just business,” Jenifer said. “I think she genuinely cares about you as a friend. But then I’m prejudiced. I think you are very easy to like.” She was walking with her hand tucked in the crook of his arm and gave him a little squeeze.
“It isn’t just business for me either,” Eric admitted. “I like all three of them and admire how they conduct themselves and their business. When I get my majority, if I can’t decide how to vote on something I’ll wait and see if they speak on it and vote their way.”
* * *
The 6 a.m. shuttle only picked up one other passenger at the Ramada. He was dressed for business in a nice suit with just a bulky computer bag.
“You folks for the JSX terminal too?” he asked.
The driver spoke up before the Foys could say anything.
“That’s the only terminal with near-daily traffic right now. The international terminal has both concourses closed and only has flights on Saturday, Sunday, and Wednesday.”
“Does Texas allow civil aviation?” Vic wondered.
“Yeah,” the driver said, “but that’s all up at Reno-Stead to the north. We don’t go up there. The folks that have private jets have people to meet them or rent a car. Your flight is coming in from Las Vegas and there’s not another flight until a turn-around from Salt Lake City tonight. We won’t do a noon run today because there’s nothing to meet.”
“Most of the flights here were North American until the Texan takeover,” the businessman volunteered. “They will eventually get more traffic once things settle out. The same as other businesses. That’s what I’m doing. Getting a foot in the door to replace North American businesses that won’t be allowed to service Texan accounts.”
“We’re connecting to North America,” Vic told him. “From Houston to Orlando. We were assured it’s a regular flight even if something happens that we miss a connection.”
“You must have a humanitarian visa to visit relatives,” the businessman said. “Texas would welcome business travelers but North America is boycotting us and trade either way isn’t welcome. I think it’s a case of cutting off your nose to spite your face.”
“We’re just passing through,” Vic told him. “We’re taking a shuttle to Home. We’ve been assured our lift tickets are all the documentation we need to pass.”
“I’d think so,” he agreed. “Last time, when they snatched that banker, it cost billions in infrastructure destroyed before they had to yield. They could ill afford that. It was as short-sighted as the trade embargo.”
“The embargo against Texas or the one against Home?” Eileen asked.
“Yes!” the business man said and laughed heartily.
The van dropped them off at an entry and pulled away as soon as they were a couple of steps away. There were no other people around outside but inside they were treated to their first view of Texans in military uniforms. They stood to each side of the entry; beside little structures that reminded Vic of the sheds rural people built for their kids to wait for the school bus in inclement weather. The businessman rushed ahead.
“What are the odd boxes by the soldier boys?” Eileen asked.
“It’s an exposed position so they gave them somewhere to retreat to cover if somebody starts shooting at them,” Vic said.
“Oh,” Eileen looked back over her shoulder and checked them out again.
There was a gate ahead manned by men and women in different uniforms. They had to pass through an electronic arch, but there was no effort to have them take off their shoes or pat them down.
“Sir, you have something unusual we don’t recognize around your neck. Would you please display it for us?” one of the security crew asked.
“Sure.” Vic unfastened his top shirt button and pulled out his bolo tie with a lovely big piece of turquoise set in silver. “It was my grandfather’s and has a great deal of sentimental value,” Vic told him. “I’d never trust it to my checked bag or even a carry-on. It might get stolen and is irreplaceable.”
“Thank you. It was just an unusual signature in the machine,” he explained. “What is your ultimate destination and reason for traveling?” The old-fashioned quiz was straight out of the Israeli security system play book, but made much easier and more effective by good veracity software instead of needing trained agents sensitive to a subject’s reactions.
“We are making connections to the Cape in Florida where we’ll lift to Home. We both have jobs with Singh Industries. After some training on the Moon, we both expect to work at least a one-year contract on an extrasolar planet named Prairie.”
The man looked at his pad running veracity software. It was probably high-end software for Texan security. His expression was more consternation than disbelief.
“You mean a planet around another star?” he asked. Disbelief was strong in his voice.
“Yes, I’m not sure which star,” Vic said. “We never discussed that. I’m no astronomer anyway. I’d have to go net search to know anything about it.”
“The software says you believe that,” he said. “North of the ninety-ninth percentile.” He stopped and thought about that, “Can you confirm what he’s saying, ma’am?”
“Yes, he’s not a nut. It’s not any secret either. It was posted by an employment agency on a public site. Not that I expect you’ll see it on the evening news. Do you believe me?”
“In all honesty, ma’am, it doesn’t matter if I personally believe you. I don’t have the authority to override the software. Your response indicates an innocent intent for your journey so I am required to board you. I do have to report what I consider anomalous responses, but that’s up to my superiors if they want to ask you further questions at one of your connections. Have a good trip,” he said and waved them on.
Their businessman companion had his laptop out and booting it up to prove it was a functional machine. They waved what must be some sort of sniffer around it. He was quietly answering a few questions and they got ahead of him again. The arrivals board showed it delayed so Eileen groaned. They went to the gate anyway as there was nothing else in the terminal in which they’d be interested. There was no skyway. They would walk out on the ramp and climb stairs for commuter planes. The mobile stairs were visible outside the windows when they sat at their gate.
“What if they cancel?” Eileen asked, concerned.
“Then we take the late shuttle back to the hotel,” Vic told her.
“They don’t have a restaurant,” she reminded him.
“You’re just nervous,” Vic said. “So am I. There must be some kind of food delivery in town. If it’s as dangerous to go out as our driver thought, it seems like it would get a lot of use. Stop fretting. If we had to fast for a day, we’d survive it just fine.”
“We skipped a few meals walking north after The Day,” Eileen said, “but you’ve made me soft. I’ve grown accustomed to eating every day again.
* * *
Mike Morris was finding the limits to all-you-can-eat pizza. It was a perk of his job and with a little thought, he could form the same ingredients into a stromboli, calzone, empanada, bread sticks, or even a passable wonton, dumpling, or kreplach if he took time to bypass the program on the dough machine. He even had plain old pizza on occasion since it was the easiest to make. He could just duplicate a customer order with very little lost time. It was still bread-based with limited other ingredients. Mike always had his lunch at work due to time constraints. He usually ate snatching bites between tasks. For his other two meals, he had to escape the sameness of it. He took those meals at the cafeteria as well as all his meals on his days off.
So far, Mike hadn’t sought any work on his off time. There was enough to learn and new things to see to keep him busy for now. His pay was just sufficient to keep the extra income from being absolutely necessary. After paying Leon the balance he owed for his lift ticket he was even saving a little bit, but not enough to buy the life extension therapies he desired in any reasonable time. That was going to require a second job.
That wasn’t so bad. Mike met people already who were working three jobs. What he’d much rather do was have some sort of small business where he could set his own hours and enjoy all the profits. How hard could that be with no real regulation or taxes? He just needed to think on the matter a little bit.
* * *
Their flight was delayed twice. TexAir operations were minimalist to the point the flight board and service counter were right at the gate. Vic suspected the one young woman behind the counter was the only inside staff. They couldn’t very well expect her to go sling baggage so there must be at least one other employee. He did doubt they had any maintenance people here at all.
“Do you have any idea what’s causing the delay or how it will resolve?” Vic asked the agent. He made every effort to be pleasant and not belligerent.
“They had an equipment problem going into Las Vegas and are having an avionics company there help them,” she said. “I do expect them to arrive today. Texas has much more relaxed rules about crew hours if they can rest during delays.”
“That’s interesting,” Vic said. “We didn’t know for sure that Las Vegas was in Texan control like Reno.
“Yes, all of Nevada to the north border and the old California line. The rumor we’re hearing is that they have a quiet cooperative agreement with Utah,” she said.
“Some of northern California too because that’s where we’re from,” Vic told her. “I’m just not sure how close to the coast or how far south from the Oregon line.”
“I don’t know either, but I can tell you we don’t have any flights into California.”
When it got past noon Vic wondered if the hotels would bother to send the bus around for anyone getting off or if they’d have to wait for the evening run. Eileen went to the vending machines and got them each a candy bar.
“There were sandwiches, but I didn’t trust how long they’d been in there,” Eileen said.
“No kidding. This isn’t a very high-traffic area,” Vic agreed. “I’ll tell you a little jail house trick. If you nibble just the tiniest piece of candy bar at a time and let it dissolve in your mouth it will deal with your hunger much better than gobbling it down.”
“I had no idea you’d ever been in jail,” Eileen said.
“You never asked. If you’ve never been arrested you have to be a meek little mouse of a man afraid to squeak,” Vic said. “Cops will arrest you without regard for any actual law. All you have to do is look at them without fear and they hate you. If you just say no to some stupid order that has no legal basis, you’ll get a ride downtown for failure to comply. Not respecting their authority is the real offense.”
“So, you have a record? I’m surprised the Spacers didn’t see that and not hire you.”
“Being arrested doesn’t mean the DA will agree to prosecute or if he does, that they’ll get a conviction. You actually have to do something worth his time to go to court. Although from what I see of these Spacers they might take a conviction as a badge of honor. They are after all a bunch of rebels.”
The whine of engines interrupted them. Outside an old twin-engine turboprop taxied up to their gate and pivoted. A small tank truck was already sitting to the side waiting to pull in and fuel it.
“Please remain seated and allow time for fueling operations before we pull the stairs up and allow you to board,” the agent requested. They might get in the air before sunset.
“That plane should be hanging in a museum somewhere,” Vic said.
“Careful, they may want you in that display,” Eileen said and elbowed him gently.
* * *
Mike Morse spent a lot of his free time in the cafeteria. He’d found a two-bedroom apartment owner selling a sleeping room split for two shifts. The lady taking the other shift didn’t leave it dirty or encroach on his paid time so he was satisfied. It didn’t include the use of the kitchen or shower but at least it wasn’t just floor space.
The cafeteria had public restrooms, and Mike could do a good enough bath with a washcloth and a small plastic container in one of the stalls. The serving ladies didn’t care if you lingered over your coffee and got refills all morning. There was a mob of retired or self-employed who did that like a free social club. A cafeteria subscription covered as much as you wanted except special orders. He wasn’t depressed or upset by the necessity of living this way, because he’d lived in much rougher circumstances. In any case, he had confidence that it was only temporary until he improved his situation. He’d always been an optimist.
The retired and self-employed who hung around the coffee machine and kibitzed most mornings welcomed him into their fold. They were happy to have somebody with some new stories. Most of them had interesting stories of their own. While Mike was eating breakfast, one of the authors, Glen, made a loud point of telling everyone it was almost closing time to buy his lotto ticket. Mike didn’t realize this was a long-standing controversy and a guaranteed argument starter. The others immediately started razzing him about throwing his money away.
After the others all made the expected and perfunctory objections Mike quietly asked, “What lotto? Is there a local one?”
Glen explained the Hawaiian lady and, Eric, the courier kid started a lotto for Earthies with life extension therapy as the prize. That wasn’t of interest to most of the Spacers who already had the treatments. They quickly followed up with a cash prize lotto that ran every week. “I know the odds are against me. I’m not innumerate. It does however pay out eighty percent of what they take in. If I ever do hit it the satisfaction of telling these guys I won will more than balance my losses.”
“I know you didn’t retain North American law, but my mind is still stuck on gambling being illegal,” Mike admitted. “It’s hard to make such a radical shift in my thinking.”
“It’s not illegal for the state,” Glen said, pointedly. “They just don’t want any competition. You can also find places here to play casino games like blackjack or roulette if you know where to go. It isn’t illegal but enough people don’t approve of it that the dark clubs don’t openly advertise. They get enough business by word of mouth. Although, even the swanky Fox and Hare club has a poker room and nobody seems to have a problem with that. Maybe because they rent the room and sell drinks, but don’t run the game.
“Really? That gives me all sorts of ideas,” Mike said.
“You need an invitation to get in on the poker game and you better be pretty good at it,” Glen warned.
“I’m a mediocre poker player at best but I have another game I might introduce,” Mike said. “Have you ever played the numbers?”
“Ha! I did but that was long ago when I lived in Hong Kong. The neighborhood grocery I went to had an old boy who looked about a thousand years old as a permanent fixture at the door. He’d have a stack of bet tickets ten centimeters high by the time they closed. You’ll probably have to give better odds than the standard game to get people to play here. If you do, I might switch and play your game sometimes. I’m sure it will tweak the morning coffee set just as well as the lotto.”
“I’ll let you know,” Mike promised. He’d need a separate bank account to keep things straight, a website to instruct people how to place bets, set limits, and name dead numbers. A second com code with offsite backup to take the bets. He’d send a cash-out code to the winner’s com address with a pay code. It could run Tuesday to Thursday and the last three digits of the ASX high for Friday should work for his number, to be paid the next Monday when he’d have time off work to finalize everything. He had it all planned out before he needed a refill of his coffee.
* * *
There were six people on the commuter plane and they all looked exhausted. The Foys had no idea how long they’d been delayed or if they had been stuck waiting on the plane. It was still possible to get near the center of the plane that had the best ride. A couple of them were near the cabin door. That got you off the fastest. One fellow was in the back row and looked to be sleeping. That left the plane less than half full without assigned seats. That was fine with Vic. There was no flight attendant and it didn’t appear there would be any in-flight service of snacks or drinks. The captain came on and recited the details of their flight and projected arrival time. He suggested smart travelers left their seat belt on in case of turbulence and just snugged it for landing.
“Does that make it easier to find the body if it’s strapped in a seat tight?” Eileen asked.
“You’ve been around my cynicism entirely too long,” Vic decided. “It rubs off.”
Dusk was far enough along that Phoenix was bright with lights and the approaches and runways were illuminated. The terminal where they finally disembarked was a private one but the hotels sent their shuttles past it too. The next connector flight headed their way wasn’t until almost noon tomorrow. So, they needed a room. If Reno was any indication none of them were sold out and they wouldn’t need a reservation. The driver looked amused and confirmed that was the case here too. Vic asked which one he would choose if he were sleeping there tonight.
“The Piedmont. It’s not a chain, it’s family-owned. They are there running it every day.”
“Drop us off there then, please,” Vic said. “Should I mention you?”
“No need. I don’t get anything if I steer somebody to them.”
The Piedmont was much better looking than the Reno Holiday Inn. There were cars in the lot, no closed-down sections, and the carpet was clean. They were smart enough to put carpet mats on the high-traffic areas to protect them. There was even coffee in the lobby. The clerk seemed interested in renting them a room. So much so that Vic wondered if he was part of the family that owned the hotel. He still asked to see the room first and the young fellow was much more obliging.
“It seems pretty decent,” Vic admitted after their inspection. “I’d still wipe down all the touch points but at least I don’t have to beg for towels.”
“And he said six hundred. That’s a hundred bucks cheaper than Reno,” Eileen said.
“We came on the shuttle and don’t have a car,” Vic told the clerk when he went back to accept the room and pay. “Is there any decent food delivery close by?”
“There’s a list in the folder on your chest of drawers. There’s no place I’d recommend unreservedly but I suggest you skip Tony’s Pizza.” He made a face.
“Thanks, I appreciate the warning,” Vic said.
Back at their room Vic repeated the warning and asked, “What do you think is safest to order? I don’t want to risk getting something that could make us ill while traveling.”
“I’d still get pizza,” Eileen said, “Just not from Tony’s, obviously.”
“Go ahead and order it up,” Vic said. “Get whatever sounds good to you but no pineapple, please. Otherwise, I’m not picky. Use our phone and put it on the Chase card.”
Vic lay on top of the covers and turned the news channel on with the sound muted. It was less irritating and just as informative that way. About a half hour later there was a tapping at their door.
“I’ve got it,” Vic said and jumped up to get their pizza.
There were two men in dark suits holding badges waiting for him.
“Well crap. You didn’t bring our pizza, did you?” Vic asked.
They were decent enough to smile at that.
“No, Texas Federal Police. I’m Agent Harmon and my partner is Agent Miller. May we have a brief word with you?”
“I figure if I say no, it will cause more problems than talking to you, so come in.”
The Foys were seated on each side of a tiny table.
“Sit on the bed if you want,” Vic invited. Harmon sat but Miller stood beside him. “You can put those badges away. I have no idea what they’re supposed to look like. I wouldn’t have a clue if you’d bought them from an online costume supply. The only one I’m familiar with is the Texas Ranger’s badge.”
“Yes, the Rangers still exist,” The older agent said. “We overlap a little doing detective work such as we’re doing today. They sometimes work outside Texas and we don’t often. Airport security at Reno reported that you intend to lift to Home. But they neglected to take pix of your lift tickets. The fellow in charge at the gate said the same thing you did about our badges. He wouldn’t know if they were real or fake. Would you allow us to see them and image them?”
“Can you tell the difference?” Vic asked. He inquired nicely, not with a challenging tone. Neither did he feel compelled to explain how they were familiar with the Rangers.
“Yes, we often deal with Texans visiting or passing through North American territory. There are frequent problems even with a visa. It has become common knowledge the Norte Americanos are avoiding confrontation with Home citizens. Several recent visits went badly for them. Some people try to take advantage of that and create their own lift tickets or copy images off the net to try to bluff their way over the border. We try to warn our people that will often result in them being arrested. We have very little leverage to free them when they have committed such an offense.”
“Here’s ours,” Vic said and laid them out for them. “I didn’t buy them. I had them printed at the post office from files our new employer sent us.”
“Nice perk,” Harmon acknowledged. He leaned over and took pix with his phone. “We conveyed the required warning and as far as I can tell the lift tickets are valid. They are at least the right appearance. We can conclude our interview now or if you are feeling generous, I have a few questions about your move and new employment. The Republic of Texas likes to stay abreast of what’s happening in the heavens. I understand you are going to work in an extrasolar environment?”
“We’re going to a planet called Prairie,” Vic said. “I couldn’t tell you what star it circles. I’m no astronomer. If they told me a catalog number, I still wouldn’t know which way to point. I was hired based on being a cattle rancher. My wife, Eileen, was hired to help with agricultural work. She has experience as a gardener, not a farmer. They asked for what supplies and equipment I’d need to raise beef cattle and they are investigating native plants and the possibility of introducing Earth plants. The expenditures for both studies run into millions of dollars Australian so it’s a serious effort. Nothing about it was presented as a secret. We found my job on a public posting of a Home employment service. I wasn’t willing to leave Eileen for a year or more so they hired her too. They indicated they had plenty of work for her. They don’t seem to be insistent on their hires being narrowly trained or degreed and they pay very well.”
“Hang on a second. Here’s our pizza,” Vic said and recovered it from the deliveryman at the door. He left it closed on the table and didn’t offer to share.
“Maybe they need some detectives,” Eileen joked. “It never hurts to ask.”
“I’m not interested in giving up my Texas citizenship,” Harmon said.
“I can understand that but they didn’t ask us to do that,” Eileen said.
That was the first thing that seemed to surprise Harmon.
“I just assumed you’d have to naturalize,” he said.
“It’s not in our contract. The only thing that they demanded was no continuing obligations to North America or China. We’re going to Home first which should satisfy North America to allow us to transit but we’re going on to the Moon. That’s where all the preparations for this expedition are taking place. We were told Home is so expensive we’ll be happy to get our business there done and move on to the Moon.”
“You’ve already told us more than we knew before. In time, if you come back to the solar system and convenient communications, your country would very much appreciate an update on your experience,” Harmon said. He held out his card to Eileen since the conversation had shifted to her.
“As long as you understand we’re not spying for you,” Eileen said. “Neither do we want to be paid. That would appear a conflict of interest. If you want to understand the culture you are dealing with, I can already tell you there is a vast difference and I’m sure we’ll find more. It may serve our employers well to tell you about our experience. But if it sounds like you are seeking targeting data we’re not going to do that.”
“We want a good relationship with the Spacers, Home or Central,” Harmon said. “You may be surprised to know we’ve had an opportunity to do them a good turn already. The people who make policy aren’t ready for the problems that publicly declaring them an ally would bring. Besides the fact we’ve no clear indication they want that.”
“We’ll see. When we’re back in the area if we see any benefit to chatting, we’ll give you a call. Is there any reason it couldn’t be on com?” Eileen asked.
“None whatsoever,” Harmon assured her. “We have no reason to be secretive either.”
“Sound good?” Eileen asked Vic. When she got a single affirmative nod from him, she reached over and took the card.
Vic leaned back and gave the agents time to be away from their door.
“Awfully nice of them to make a special trip to warn us about fake lift tickets,” Vic said, voice dripping sarcasm. “We may have told them more than they knew but if it was anything new to their intelligence people, they’re pretty useless.”
“That cover story was really unnecessary,” Eileen agreed. “He could have just gone straight to his pitch to recruit us to feed them information on the Spacers.”
“It was a pretty soft recruit,” Vic allowed.” He didn’t try to threaten us. I do wonder if he’d have offered us some pay if you hadn’t cut off that possibility. I’d have turned it down of course. I bet he has no idea how well we are being compensated and how much I’d demand for us to be his agents too.”
“Better not to get in a bidding situation and get his hopes up. If he got us to agree with threats, how would he enforce it once we were gone? He’d need some local handle like family to make us comply. That tells me he has no idea about Alice and our arrangements with her. Would you like some lukewarm pizza?” Eileen asked.
“I’d love some, hot or cold,” Vic said. “I’m starved.
* * *
Frederick Hayes was nervous to be calling about a job, even using a VPN and a cheap throw-away tablet with no personal information on it. He had no illusions he’d be employed tomorrow if his company somehow found out he was job hunting. They’d be happy to help him move on. That would put him in a worse situation now instead of in a year. The young man, Walter, at We Can Do It was friendly, chatty, and put him at ease. He wasn’t sure it wasn’t a scam until he’d spoken to him a bit. Even the office behind him could have been green-screened, but the speed of light lag was convincing. He doubted scammers would bother to spoof that since most people wouldn’t miss its absence and it was super irritating.
Walter suggested he cut his resume down to two or three pages, email it to him tonight, and call back at the same time tomorrow. If the employer showed interest in his resume, he’d be available. Walter would transfer the call and let them interview him.
“The ad said no continuing North American obligations,” Fred reminded him. “I’m not obligated to anything like a military call-up. However, tax obligations for people living outside the country are so onerous that I plan to renounce my citizenship and pay the fee to buy my freedom if I’m offered a contract.”
“I’ll make a note of that,” Walter said. “If you are concerned about being stateless, Central on the Moon has no application, fees, or time limits for residence. Most people are simply resident citizens and not personally sworn to the sovereign. Home, where I live, also allows you to establish residence freely. You can hold dual citizenship in both nations without any problem. Central does not tax income or individuals unless they are landholders and Home makes taxation voluntary. If you don’t agree to be taxed you get no vote in the Assembly that sets the budget and directs policy.”
“No kidding? How big a chunk do they take if you opt-in?” Fred wondered.
“It’s divided evenly among everyone, not proportional. Last year I paid about seven percent of my income. Air and water fees and a cafeteria subscription to Mitsubishi ran me more than that. I’m pretty healthy but it’s cheap, so I decided to subscribe to the clinic health services too. One plus for Central is the sovereign doesn’t charge for air.”
Fred laughed. “That’s one of the few things they don’t tax here, yet.”
“Bluntly, it’s very different here. Quite a few people can’t adjust and go back home in the first six months. Others thrive. Home is expensive also, but this package for the Moon should leave you banking most of your pay. You’d be solidly middle classed with that salary on Home. I haven’t been to the Moon but I understand it’s a similar culture. Of course, being a monarchy is different than a democratic assembly. Heather Anderson isn’t a figurehead royal, she’s an absolute monarch.”
“Has she removed any heads lately?” Fred joked.
“She conducts court every Sunday with a pistol on the table in front of her. You can find a video of that if you net search. It’s rather entertaining. She hasn’t shot anyone dead, yet. People can be such fools I’m not sure I’d be so even-tempered. She has banished a few.”
“That’s good,” Fred said seriously. “If I’m going to live under a dictator, I want a benevolent one. I’ll send that condensed resume in a couple of hours and I do appreciate the insight on how it’s different living there.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for calling We Can Do It.”
* * *
“I don’t want to be dull,” Heather insisted. “However, I’m sovereign and I need to retain a certain dignity. If I look like a party girl, I can undermine my subject’s confidence in me. I need to be one of the constants to which they look to maintain stability and security in their lives. For starters that means I don’t want to show a lot of skin or outrageous colors. I’m not sure a gown is me either.”
“It’s a ball, not a swim party,” Frank said. “Don’t worry. I’d never suggest an outfit that demeans you. We have several options and some very nice materials to show you. I’m not your only resource. We can call Cindy to consult and you can speak up and ask if changing a shape or hem is technically possible. You can add layers and pleats or hardware like buckles or buttons and decorations such as pearls, sequins, or embroidery. Have we ever made April or Jeff look silly?”
“Put that way, no. They always look like a million bucks,” Heather admitted. “That’s kind of an old-fashioned phrase now, isn’t it?”
“Maybe not,” Frank said. “We haven’t reached the level of million-dollar outfits yet.”
“Show me what you brought,” Heather invited.
“Let me scan you. Then when I show you a piece, it will be presented as it will look like on you,” Frank said.
* * *
Nick was marking a new bin of bolts when Jeff walked in. Nick's heart skipped a beat and his mouth went dry. He wondered if this was the end of his new job.
“Look, I’m not skilled in social things,” Jeff said scowling. “That includes what most people take for diplomacy. Every time I see you, I’m going to be irritated because it reminds me of what I was forced to do. I’m not sure if that will ever wear off. I’ve had pointed out to me that the same moral imperative forced your hand and you’ve paid a bigger price than me for it. April was forced to do just as intense a bombardment of California and it spread in a cascade of failures until it took out most of the state. She doesn’t sit around stewing about it. I’ve never let it bother me before if I had to act. I’m not sure why this time bothers me so much.”
“I think because before, you always had a chance to challenge your adversary to change course or you’d act. They pressed ahead despite your warning,” Nick said. “This time the evil deed was already done and there was no opportunity to warn them.”
“You may be right,” Jeff said surprised at the analysis. “The ship certainly was a done deal. Nor could I risk giving them a chance to snatch a sample of the plague away from the lab. If they had it secreted away somewhere to use again it would be hanging over our heads forever.”
“They’d already shown they were incompetent to have such a weapon,” Nick said. “The release wasn’t deliberate. It was a stupid miscalculation. It might very well have gotten away from them again. When have biological containments ever not failed?”
“That’s true. The whole point of me talking to you is you don’t have to skulk around avoiding me. My ladies tell me I owe you that much. The Earthies will never thank you for saving a couple of billion lives. You see how they tried to thank you. I don’t have to add to your punishment for doing right. I shall endeavor not to be so petty. That’s all. I’m told you are very methodical and good at this disassembly. I’m glad we were able to give you work after you were treated so poorly in Hawaii.”
“Thank you,” was all Nick said, sensing he should let the conversation die now.
Jeff just nodded an acknowledgment of his thanks and marched out abruptly.
When his boss Bobby came by later, Nick asked if Jeff had spoken to him.
“No. About what?” Bobby asked. “I just recently found out you know each other.”
“He wanted to tell me he wasn’t holding a grudge against me,” Nick said.
Bobby looked a little confused. “Well, that sounds all to the good. I’m not sure why he would have a grudge. I thought the treaty you helped arrange worked out just fine.”
“It did. Much later I implored him to bombard a plague ship and destroy the lab that was the source of the bio-weapon. He felt compelled to do so but it tore him up to do it. There wasn’t much choice. If he’d ignored it the potential was there to kill a couple of billion people. I felt the same moral imperative and acted against my own government.”
“As little attention as I pay to the news it still upsets me that I knew nothing about that,” Bobby said.
“You were living in North America,” Nick said. “They could make it a top secret that the sky is blue and expect you never to speak of it again. They have no idea they are insane.”
“Mushrooms. We were all mushrooms and didn’t even know it,” Bobby said.
Nick was well aware of the analogy to which he referred.
Chapter 16
For any flight to North America, the Foys had to be cleared ahead to board. Not having a visa, they were asked to show their shuttle tickets, and the image of them was sent ahead to the Melbourne Orlando airport customs and security. They were advised they would be issued plastic passes on a neck lanyard and they were urged by Texan security to wear them to avoid delays and hassles.
“Do they help or do they draw a target on our backs?” Vic asked skeptically.
“They deny it, but the North Americans track every cell phone in urban areas, and will stop, frisk, and detain anybody with a cell that isn’t registered to their database. If you are over sixteen and don’t have a cell phone, they presume you are evading tracking. You risk multiple trips to the local cop shop if you don’t wear it.”
“We have a satellite phone but intend to ship it back home before we lift.”
“I believe that would be the same as not having a phone since it doesn’t ping the local cell net,” the security agent said. “It wouldn’t surprise me if they suspect it as a potential espionage tool. They frequently arrest people for public photography. They are very sensitive about any kind of data collection. More so every year.”
“If they’re not the ones doing it,” Vic said.
“Well, of course,” the agent agreed.
“We’ll put up with it,” Vic decided. “It rubs me the wrong way.”
“Could be worse,” Eileen said. “At least we’re just passing through.”
“Amen to that,” the security guy said. “I grew up here when it was North America.”
* * *
“The fabric is stiffer along one axis than the other,” Frank explained. “In lunar gravity, it’s hard to get it to drape properly like in Earth gravity. We’d use this for a long-pleated skirt with a contrasting color line hidden in the fold. When you walk or dance it ripples with a very eye-pleasing pattern.”
“Pleats all around. Kind of like a kilt,” Heather decided.
“But a much narrower pleat and lighter fabric. It’s silk threads one way and synthetic fibers are woven cross-ways to the silk. The waistband we’ll attach and hide under a wide black leather belt. It has a hidden closure and a thick fabric pad on the front on which you can put false buckles or any sort of jewelry.”
“What would you team it with on top?” Heather wondered.
“It’s versatile that way,” Frank said. “You could wear it with a plain or patterned shirt or blouse. You might add a short jacket or vest over that or the same color as the skirt with embroidery to match the hidden color in the pleats.” He tapped the key as he narrated it to change the image on the screen to match.
“Go back to the short jacket over a blouse, please,” Heather requested.
Frank did so and waited.
“Change the blouse to a more natural color, not blinding white, and add a bunch of lace below a high collar.”
Frank instructed it by voice and let the system work it. He only corrected it twice.
“Now make the skirt black with gold hidden instead of white. Can you add gold piping to the edge of the jacket?” Heather asked.
“But of course. All the way around the collar of the jacket and on the cuffs.”
“Hmmm. It’s getting there but it needs something,” Heather said.
“If one may suggest,” Frank said. “Let’s use unstructured shoulders and change the collar to a peaked style in black velvet. Have it cut open in front to show the lace with no closures. What would you like to use on the front plaque of the belt?” Frank asked. “With the front wide open it becomes more important.”
“More gold,” Heather requested. “I refuse to wear a crown or carry a scepter but if I can wear enough gold it conveys the fact that I’m not poor. People see wealth as almost equivalent to power.”
“How about a gold Celtic knot? As a fake buckle,” Frank suggested.
“Yeah, I like those patterns. Make it one I can’t cover with my hand. It can be near a kilo and that big belt will support it.”
They looked at that for a while thinking and Frank added soft black boots that went up above the hem of the skirt.
“Will it really make me look that good?” Heather wondered. “It looks amazing, and I’m having a hard time figuring out why. I’ve always tried to look smaller and this doesn’t try to do that at all. It makes me look…” She failed to come up with a word.
“My dear, I’m an old man. Forgive me for my bluntness on that basis. You are not fat but you are still unhappy you aren’t a delicate reed of a girl like a ballerina. I think body shaming over things you can’t change is one of the last vestiges of Earth Think we need to lose. You are a lovely fit woman and have grown to be a big woman. This program is not cheating by hiding or altering your proportions. It makes you look formidable. That’s entirely appropriate for a powerful sovereign. Does your dear Jeff ever complain you are too much woman for him?”
Heather laughed, embarrassed. “No, and I’ve always marveled at that.”
“If you were a tiny slip of a woman, we’d be trying to make you more imposing with padded shoulders and lifts in your boots. Accept what you are,” Frank counseled.
“In that case, add a couple of Singh pistols in gloss black cases and checkered grips tucked inside the belt,” Heather said. “Not right out front but just inside the jacket grips out so they show easily when I move.” She twisted around to demonstrate. “That’s the other sign of power people respect.”
That was a little harder to do but the fashion AI got it right after Heather supplied an image file and it was corrected a couple of times. Frank let the program animate the image so it walked away, twirled, and returned. That took enough computing power it had to pause for a few seconds to create it.
“That will do very nicely,” Heather agreed. “Let’s do some different tops and maybe a different color combo in a similar skirt.”
“Is this still April’s gift or are you ordering for yourself now?” Frank asked.
“Charge it to April. She’ll be delighted I finally paid attention to her to get some things and she can afford it easily. I bet she’s getting something for the occasion, isn’t she?”
“Indeed, Cindy is working with her on an outfit as well as several other guests you’ve invited. People are very pleased with your event. I think many get tired of too much work and miss what some Earth cultures would describe as the trappings of society.”
“We’ll have a few Earthies coming too. One hopes we can wow them and not come off as rustics or barbarians,” Heather said.
* * *
“Mr. and Mrs. Foy,” Vic announced to the agent at Orlando customs. “I was told you’d have an ID card for us.”
“Yes sir. Do you have any ID, please?”
“Here’s my Texas citizenship document. They issue you a laminated card as well as a big certificate suitable for framing.” Eileen was digging for hers.
The North American card was standard ID card size in off-white. The previous black card theme meant to be demeaning had been dropped. It hung on a ball chain that could be shortened. Vic examined it critically before hanging it around his neck.
VICTOR FOY his card declared in large letters. In transit to Home. Not to be impeded per executive order 23492. Failure to freely pass the bearer or falsification/alteration of this document is punishable by ten years of incarceration and a $250,000 fine. There was a computer code on the reverse side.
“If you wear it with the scan code out it’s read by cameras in public venues and transit,” the agent explained. “That preserves your privacy and will prevent officers investigating you as undocumented when you are surveilled on the street. This is the same size and color of pass we issue to official couriers, public safety, and law enforcement officials.”
“I’m impressed,” Vic allowed. “Does it have an expiration date?”
“If you retain it, they will activate it again any time you cross our border and show ID.”
“Thank you for your care,” Vic told him. “Which way to the hotel shuttles?”
“To the west are exit turnstiles from the security area and another fifty meters on your right,” he said pointing. He was excruciatingly polite but with a poker face. Vic became certain he was straining to conceal personal animus.
Vic noticed he didn’t look closely at Eileen’s citizen’s card before giving her the ID.
“I thought they hated the Spacers and Homies in particular,” Eileen said outside. “We haven’t been up there but we’ve associated ourselves with them. Anybody reading our cards won’t know we aren’t Homies, yet.”
“They do detest Spacers as public policy,” Vic said. “They’re also afraid of them. At least enough they don’t want to initiate hostilities again unless it’s on their timetable.”
“OK, you’re making sense to me. So, why didn’t they give us a special color instead of the same sort their own officials use?” Eileen asked.
Vic smiled at her but it wasn’t a happy smile.
“Because they have been so successful at demonizing the Spacers that we’d be treated badly in public if we had our own color ID. They did that for a while, assigning them black cards. It resulted in unwanted incidents. That was before your time but I remember.
“When you shape public opinion as they have, there is always a minority of unstable people who take your message to heart more than you really want. They are cocked guns waiting to be bumped.
“They have a handle on people like that customs agent we just spoke with. They will behave as instructed or lose their job. The wider public can’t be controlled so tightly. I’d expect we might be accosted in public by nut cases if we were easy to identify. I’d be afraid to order in a restaurant if we were marked like that. There’s no telling what they’d do to our food in the kitchen.”
“Oh, ick,” Eileen said. “That’s gross.”
“Now, the question is, do the common folk hate their officials any less than they do Spacers? I doubt they can ask themselves that with any honesty. Will we get special preferential treatment by wearing these IDs to a hotel or restaurant or should we tuck them out of sight before we go in?”
“I think it depends on what kind of neighborhood we’re in,” Eileen decided. “The people doing well under the government will be supportive of it.”
“That's an amazing and insightful observation,” Vic complimented her.
“Let’s stick to the high-end places where we’ll be safer,” Eileen said. “We can afford it.”
“We need to buy a cheap cell phone and find a UPS store to send the sat phone back to Alice before we can do any of that,” Vic said. “Then I’ll search the hotel room listings by the highest prices first,” Vic said
“If you pick a high-end place their concierge should ship the phone for us. And after years of having no restaurants to go to, I wouldn’t mind having something fancier than carry-out pizza for dinner,” Eileen said.
* * *
Frederick Hayes got the call from the recruiter to interview with one of the principals for the Moon job. He hadn’t been sure they were legit or that they wouldn’t ghost him. They did transfer him and the lag seemed to indicate he was speaking to the Moon if it wasn’t spoofed. Frederick seemed to be interviewing Jeff as much as Jeff was interviewing him.
Jeff indicated he’d read his brief resume and had no questions about it. Frederick assumed he’d had the accuracy of it independently verified. He, on the other hand, was skeptical of their ability to transport processing machinery to Saturn as well as bring any bulk products back. He asked how directly and expected to be blown off with claims it was proprietary and secret until he was hired and signed nondisclosure agreements.
Jeff didn’t take offense at being questioned. He answered that transport wouldn’t be a problem even from another star but they had yet to find a world or moon around another star like Titan, with liquid hydrocarbons on its surface. He backed that up with video of the Prospector sitting on Prairie with the crew standing outside and video of Alice and Deloris sitting on their electric mules in front of Dionysus’ Chariot on Oasis.
“You have two ships capable of landing on extrasolar worlds and have already found two worlds with life and breathable atmosphere,” Frederick said. He didn’t phrase it as a question, but rather in terms of amazement.
“That’s a fair summation,” Jeff agreed. “I believe either of the two ships shown could land on Titan for samples. We’d likely have to run the ship’s atmosphere at a slight over-pressure. Maybe cut the partial pressure of oxygen or substitute a noble gas for nitrogen so we don’t have to slowly bleed off the extra pressure before returning. The Chariot has a very limited hold volume. The Prospector has carried bulk loads of things like native copper but isn’t set up to transport liquids. We’d have to make removable cryogenic tanking to carry a very limited load. If we go forward with this project, I’m assuming we’ll have to build a dedicated tanker to make the operation efficient. Perhaps it can be built versatile enough to carry other fluids. If we can find somewhere with a carbon dioxide atmosphere to exploit that would be a very welcome secondary use.”
“That’s good to hear you could land there,” Frederick said. “I can design reactors to process methane into longer chain hydrocarbons with metallic catalysts. However, to make such equipment guaranteed never to require human intervention to maintain it is outside the current state of the art.”
Jeff nodded his understanding. “We don’t have the constraints of fitting it on a certain size piece of real estate or security concerns of limiting access. We can string out the piping and vessels for kilometers, if need be, to make maintenance access easier.
“To lift the finished product to orbit we’ll likely have a dedicated robotic shuttle with no superluminal capabilities. A human pilot wouldn’t be needed for that. We have similar experience with robotic freight shuttles landing on a converted ocean vessel.”
“Where will you do the secondary processing to polymers?” Frederick wondered.
“On the Moon,” Jeff said. “It’s a harsh environment but one we’re used to dealing with and having human access to that equipment is no problem.”
Frederick looked thoughtful and held up a forestalling finger although Jeff wasn’t rushing him to speak.
“If you’d build two shuttles to lift the product to orbit, you could simply swap them instead of pumping the product to your ship and then pumping it off to your processing plant on the Moon. You’d grapple the full one to a much simpler ship after you dropped off the empty. And it would land and connect to your synthesizer automatically. Would the savings on your manned ship be greater than the cost of a second shuttle?” Frederick asked.
“I’m sure it would,” Jeff agreed. “That saves time for the human crew not to wait for a pumping transfer to finish. It seems to me attaching a bulk carrier has less risk of something going wrong at both ends than a pumping transfer. Also, if we find there are other materials we wish to transport, building a specialized container is much cheaper than a new dedicated ship.”
“If I go to Titan for you, how long is the voyage?” Frederick asked.
“When the ship makes a superluminal transition, it has to add or lose solar orbital velocity, so that takes a couple of hours empty or possibly even a couple of days with a massive load,” Jeff said.
“And the transition in the middle? How long does that take?” Frederick asked.
“No time at all, as far as anyone has been able to measure,” Jeff said.
Frederick thought about that a bit and didn’t feel the need this time to signal Jeff to give him a moment to think. Jeff knew it was hard to absorb that fact the first time. Thankfully Frederick was flexible enough to believe him, and went on without challenging him.
“If you do find an accessible source of carbon dioxide, the same ship could transport that. If you have more carbon dioxide than you need for other uses, I can build a facility to process carbon dioxide to hydrocarbons with a hydrogen source,” Frederick offered.
“I’m impressed with your creative thinking,” Jeff said. “If you wish to hire on now, you can join the trip to gather samples on Titan and help develop not only the synthesizing equipment but both shuttles and a carrier ship from the ground up.
“I do need to warn you that we all pitch in and do whatever is needed at the moment if our primary job isn’t demanding our attention or if our sovereign decides something has higher priority at the moment. I’m her peer but I’ve been asked to take a shift running a paving machine or running a load of flowers and cabbage to Armstrong when it was needed. Are the pay and perks satisfactory to you?”
“Yes. I’ve read the contract. I’m trusting you that the pay is sufficient to live on in your economy,” Frederick said. “I haven’t investigated the cost of living on the Moon.”
“With cheap food and free housing, you’d have to want a lot of Earth luxuries like top-shelf booze or chocolates to put a dent in your income,” Jeff said. “When this project is done, be assured we’ll have other work. Some of those jobs include profit sharing. If you dislike Moon life and would rather go to Home, while housing there is scarce, they have a constant labor shortage just like the Moon. Do you have any obligations to wrap up before you can accept?”
“No,” Frederick said. “The way things are here I expect to have my computer log-on deleted and be escorted off the facility by security as soon as I announce I’m leaving. They are terrified of sabotage from disgruntled employees. I’ll sign the contract and will forward that to you as soon as we are done. Could you delay making any payments to me until after I’ve paid to renounce my citizenship and left Earth?”
“That sounds like a terrible adversarial work environment,” Jeff said. “There is no problem waiting to pay you until you arrive. When you pass through Home you can open an account with the Private Bank and inform me to pay to that account. I’m leaving you a link to print out a shuttle ticket. It won’t be active until you send your signed contract. It’s not a priority ticket so you may get bumped once or twice before getting a seat. You’ll note it’s routed from New Las Vegas that’s under North American control, through Home. That’s the only way we can be sure of North America allowing you passage without harassing you. If you need any help in transit, call my com code. You can reach me without any blocking once you are at New Las Vegas or beyond. One question, please. Do you object to calling you Fred? I’ll avoid it and make a note to your supervisors if it’s offensive. We’re not very formal here.”
“Not at all. If I were the stuffy sort I’d insist on Mr. Hayes.”
* * *
“Good morning, Mr. Foy.”
“Just Vic, please.’
“Then I’m Cindy.”
“We are seated on a shuttle on count to lift,” Vic said. “I didn’t want to call you again and set a hard appointment until I was sure we would board. We didn’t have priority tickets and we could be bumped right up until the very last minute. We should be at Home early, two days from now. Do you have any time you could work us in that day?”
“Looking at our appointments that would be very difficult for two new customers. I have a block of time the next day where I can give you the attention you deserve. You said you are going on to the Moon. Are you able to stay overnight on Home or do you have connections to the Moon set already?”
“No, since things were so uncertain here, I didn’t make reservations for the shuttle from New Las Vegas to Home until just a few minutes ago. I have yet to reserve transportation to the Moon. We can sightsee on Home and may even spend a second night there. We’ll check what shuttle flights are available after we consult with you.”
“Thank you for being so flexible. I’m writing you in for 0900 your second day here and expect to devote at least three hours to you. Is that agreeable?”
“That’s fine. That’s for me and my wife Eileen,” Vic reminded her.
“I remember. We should be able to serve both of you in three hours, four at the most. New people sometimes have trouble finding their way about. If I may suggest it, I can send a young man to meet you at the dock to guide you around. Their courier business charges a thousand dollars Australian a day for the service but you’ll have a much better idea of what Home is like than trying to find your own way around for such a short period.”
“That sounds nice. Tell him to book us for two days. I don’t know where we are staying yet, so meeting us at the dock works.
“I’d call right now if you don’t have reservations. They often fill up. If you can’t get rooms check the website “What’s Happening” on Home.com. They usually have an ad or three for what you’d call a bed and breakfast or just the bed part.”
“What do you call them?”
“The popular usage is a C&B, a crash and burn.”
“We’ll see you then,” Vic said laughing and disconnected. The noises suggested they were close to launching. He worried Eileen might be scared and looked at her. She was grinning instead.
* * *
When his Saturday shift at The Quiet Retreat ended Mike Morse took a deep breath and waited for Karl to finish paying the two other kitchen workers. He might have been waiting to go to have a beer with Hans but when Hans turned away and Mike was making eye contact with him Karl knew something was up. A man of few words, he just lifted his chin and eyebrows with a questioning expression rather than ask what he wanted.
“I appreciate the opportunity to work here but I have other work that pays me better and requires my time. I won’t be back next weekend,” Mike said.
“Well, I knew you’d be moving along. You work too hard and too smart to stay at this sort of job very long. Good luck with everything you do,” Karl said and turned away. That was the most he’d ever said to Mike. Hans was waiting outside.
“I heard. Hopefully, he’ll get somebody from the agency before next weekend or I’m doing two jobs again. Want to go for a beer?”
“Let’s call it a celebration and I’ll buy you dinner.”
“Sweeter words were never said. Lead on my man.”
* * *
“This is what the original Las Vegas used to be like before North America got all prudish, the economy crapped out, and they had three water crises in a row,” Vic said.
“You used to go there? Did you gamble?” Eileen asked.
“A little,” Vic said. “I just lack something in my personality to enjoy it. I’ve seen others who get a huge thrill when they win even if they’ve lost three times as much up to the point they finally won some. I guess I’m too certain the house is going to come out ahead eventually if you play long enough. There are all sorts of magical thinkers in the world. Gamblers who think they can create a system to defy mathematical certainty are definitely among them. I was thinking mostly about the in-your-face garish decor and the party atmosphere. All these screens flashing ads and audio come-ons get on my nerves worse than the outdoor neon that Las Vegas displayed. I think they use subliminal stuff embedded in them to influence the weak-minded.”
“They are trying much too hard with all the black, red, gold, and glitter,” Eileen said. “But I’d have thought it would be busier than it is.”
Vic thought of telling her where that was standard décor, along with flock wallpaper and satin sheets, but then she’d ask how he knew that.
“It’s the middle of their night, but the actual casino floors never close. If it’s like the Earthly Las Vegas, they never put any clocks where it might make a gambler stop and think about going to bed. People still get sleepy and things slow down off the main shift.
“You used to be able to get a cheap room and really good cheap food in Las Vegas. They didn’t worry about making money on those things as much as other vacation spots because they’d make it up from the gambling. You could stay there cheaply and there were lots of other things to see and do outside of town. Parks and good hiking in the cool months. I suspect they can’t do that here because of the cost to lift all this to orbit.”
“Well, we don’t have time to stay overnight or even have a big meal before we catch our shuttle to Home,” Eileen said. “
“I’m curious,” Vic said and keyed an inquiry into their phone. He let off a shrill whistle that tapered off so loud some people looked up. “The cheapest room I see is six thousand dollars a night. Oh, wait… that’s North American dollars. That’s not as bad as I thought. But the same hotel advertises its buffet for eight hundred dollars NA. The way they brag on it, that’s apparently a bargain.”
“That’s enough to take my appetite away,” Eileen said.
* * *
Once he sent his signed contract and the shuttle ticket link showed active Frederick Hayes called his tax lady.
“Freddy! You never call the middle of the year. Did you win the lotto?”
“Sort of, Luan. I got offered a job for a million and a half Aussie dollars a year.”
“Woah.” She tapped a few keys and shifted her eyes to the edge of her screen. “That’s four million sixty-one hundred thousand-and twenty-seven-dollars NA right now. That’s going to be a huge tax bite you know.”
“Less than you think,” Fred said and smiled. “I’m leaving North America so I want you to calculate how much they will nick me to renounce my citizenship and forward the fee to them. Let me know when it is official and I’m free to let them pay me at the new job.”
“That will be approximately a third of your worth,” Luan warned him. They’ll make you pay this year’s tax early too. Are you sure you won’t be taxed more in Australia?”
“I’m going to Home and on to the Moon, not Australia. I won’t be obligated to pay income tax in either of them,” Fred told her.
“I’ve read that and discounted it as propaganda. I figured they just called it something else or used the equivalent of sales tax or excise tax to fund things. If they don’t have an income tax, how do they pay for anything? You know, things like public education and roads and stuff.”
“I don’t know. How did we pay for those things before we had income tax?”
“I seem to remember that roads were a muddy mess and mostly impassable for any distance when cars were a new thing. Schools were one-room local affairs. Everybody romanticizes that, but I can’t see how a teacher could do justice to a mob of all ages at the same time. They don’t have roads on a habitat, but maybe they do on the Moon,” Luan said uncertainly. “I have no idea what public services are needed there.”
“When I get there, I promise I’ll report what the real deal is,” Fred promised.
“Thank you, but I’m still losing you as a customer,” Luan said unhappily.
“And I’ve always been happy with your service,” Fred said. “I haven’t said anything but my job is going to go away in a year, max. You were going to lose me one way or another.”
“I’m glad you found something early then. Don’t forget to call me. I always like to know what’s going on from somebody on the inside. I’ll get back to you as soon as we have a hard effective date on your removal and the final fees.”
“And your final fees too,” Fred said. “I’m just happy I’ll have something left of it.”
* * *
A very serious-looking young man watched all the passengers get off the Larkin shuttle. He had a pad with the name FOY on it in as big a font as would fit on the two-hundred-millimeter screen.
“Yo! Foys here,” Vic called to him and waved.
“Welcome to Home. I’m Ian Wilson and Cindy asked my boss Eric Pennington to arrange a guide for you. Have you eaten recently or should we start by visiting the cafeteria and talking over a meal?”
“Let’s go eat,” Vic agreed. “We didn’t have time to eat at New Las Vegas and the shuttle just had vending machines with light sandwiches and cups of noodle soup at ridiculous prices.”
“Oh, somebody should have told you to get some carryout for the trip. Larkin’s stuff is overpriced and underwhelming. The cafeteria here has good food. They’ll still have the breakfast bar up at this hour. We’ll get you fixed right up.”
“Then we want to go meet our banker,” Eileen said. “We’ve talked to him on com but both of us want to meet him face to face.”
Once Vic and Eileen slowed down eating to where he thought they’d listen to him Ian got out some spex for them.
“My employer deals in used electronics. We’ve found it easiest to just include older spex in any guide services. These are about three years old so they have all the basic functions but are considered commercially obsolete. You might give them to your kids or one of the charity preachers for the down and out but they got too old to sell. Once you learn how to use them for messages and navigation, you’ll probably want one of the newer models with all the bells and whistles. Lots of people buy new every year. The real power users can buy new every six months.”
“People used to do the same with their phones,” Vic said. “We’ve come from a situation where we had no cell service or internet for several years. We ended up buying a satellite phone to have any communications at all. Things were just getting back to normal when we left. It used to be North American territory in Northern California. Then the Texans came in and occupied it before the North Americans tried to return.
“That’s scary,” Ian said. “I can’t imagine being so isolated.”
“It was rough where I lived when the power stopped, the stores went empty, and you couldn’t buy gasoline anymore,” Vic admitted. “At least I had shelter and could heat with wood. It was much harder for Eileen here. Her family walked half the length of the state with no law and no supply, not knowing if her grandfather was safely at their vacation home and waiting to take them in or if they’d find squatters. They had to stop halfway and wait out the winter in an improvised shelter.”
Ian tried to imagine himself in those conditions and admitted, “Wow. I’d probably have died.” He stared hard at Eileen like he was trying to imagine how she could have survived those conditions. She didn’t look that tough.
“A lot of folks did die,” Vic said bluntly. Ian was subdued and quiet long enough for them to finish dessert. He didn’t ask any more about California and instructed them on using the spex.
When Ian took them to their banker, Irwin, they didn’t send him away. They didn’t cite any hard numbers in front of him but it was obvious from their concerns about currency exchanges and the way Irwin treated them that they were people of substantial means. On top of the story of their survival that impressed Ian even more. They not only survived but somehow managed to thrive.
* * *
“Huh… The Australians belatedly reply that they are unable to send the minister for foreign affairs due to prior commitments but are sending the director of protocol from the department of diplomatic and consular accreditation,” Jeff read. “Nothing like waiting until the very last minute to tell us.”
“We follow the customs of Earth protocols so poorly the dear will probably have a meltdown,” Heather said. “I don’t think we own a red carpet. Unless they neglected to tell me; I don’t think we have ever been diplomatically accredited. It certainly hasn’t kept them from trading with us. Does this official decide where they send their consuls or who they welcome to send consuls to them?”
“Maybe both,” Jeff guessed. “We don’t want or need either. If he brings it up let’s just tell them so, bluntly. It would be a hardship post either way and the poor person would have little to do. If they want to hire a local to act as one, they can throw their money away. Earth governments seem to do that easily. It’s not like they use real money.”
“We should have told our people to ask for an RSVP with a cutoff date,” April decided.
“Most everybody had the sense to let us know without demanding it,” Jeff pointed out. “I assume if they didn’t reply at all it’s a default no. We have a couple of extra rooms if anyone else shows up unexpectedly. Just don’t get any ideas about fitting me for striped trousers and a frock coat.”
“I think you would look very dignified dressed that way,” April said.
“I could look dignified bare butt naked,” Jeff insisted. “It’s not the clothing that dignifies you. It’s how you project yourself.”
That was interesting, April thought. She and Heather had to teach Jeff all sorts of social things but occasionally, he’d surprise them with unexpected insights.
* * *
Vic stopped abruptly inside the door to Cindy and Frank’s shop and got a big grin. The proprietors looked at him expectantly.
“My parents would have loved this place,” Vic informed them. “The colors and décor are right out of their parent’s homes. They’d probably start telling you all sorts of stories about that time.”
“The period décor is aimed at a large body of our customers,” Cindy admitted. “Indeed, it was created in large part from my memories of my parent’s home when we were near moving out and living on our own and then our return visits as young adults.”
Vic's face contorted in genuine confusion.
“But I’d have placed you in your late thirties. That’s at least a full generation if not two ahead of the style you are decorating with here.”
Cindy laughed. “We’ve been married longer than that. We’ve recently had life extension and it’s still working on us. We may drop another five years or so of appearance.”
“This is going to be difficult for me,” Vic said. “How do you have any idea how old somebody is to guess what their level of life experience is? I know I change what I say to people based on whether certain events are abstract history to them or something they remember as a personal experience. You can’t ask how old somebody is to hire them now.”
“You can ask anything you please here. Though people may tell you it’s none of your business. You do eventually learn to read some subtle little changes. Life extension firms the face up and removes some wrinkles, but it never looks the same as real youth. Maybe you shouldn’t edit your conversations. If someone needs a reference explained they should be honest and ask you to expand on it.”
“Where were you when President Lincoln was shot?” Vic teased.
“At school, so you can’t pin that one on me, but I saw the video that evening on the TV evening news,” Cindy shot back, “along with reports about the civil war ending. You’re joking now, but if we live two or three hundred years people will have to deal with living history like previous generations never experienced. It will make it a lot harder to lie about what happened a hundred years ago when people can remember it for themselves.”
“Does anybody have proof it may extend life that far?” Eileen asked.
“Proof will have to wait for it to work out,” Cindy said. “Right now, most deaths of treated people have been accidents or homicide. Only a few people with LET have died of serious pre-existing conditions. They can’t fix all the sorts of damage you can inflict on a body. There are autoimmune diseases, cancers, and aneurysms it doesn’t cure. There are internal organs that can’t be regenerated as easily as a new finger or toe. If you are missing your appendix or spleen, it’s gone forever. Although I did hear they may be able to induce a new kidney soon if you are down to one. Frank and I went for the whole-body MRI just to eliminate the possibility of such a pre-existing condition giving us a nasty surprise.”
“I’ve met a few who need a new head grown with a fresh unspoiled brain. I suspect that’s still a ways off in the future,” Eileen quipped.
“We’ve met a few like that too, dear. You will find there are fewer of them here than you found down on the Slum Ball.”
“Slum Ball? That’s a new one!” Eileen said. “Not very nice but if I could argue it isn’t accurate, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Come in and let’s get started,” Cindy requested. “We can chat once we have you scanned and our basic business taken care of.”
“Do Eileen first,” Vic said. “I think her stuff will be more complicated.”
Vic turned to Ian Wilson, their guide for the day. “We’re going to be several hours. If you don’t want to sit and be bored, feel free to go do whatever you want and I’ll call you back when we need you. I’m no expert but I’m sure I can do that,” Vic said tapping his spex.
“I’ve never seen how they make bespoke clothing,” Ian said. “I’d like to watch at least for a while and if I get bored, I’ll go off to the cafeteria or something.”
“Suit yourself,” Vic agreed.
“Kick your shoes off and stand in the circle here,” Cindy invited Eileen. Vic and Ian both watched, interested.
Chapter 17
“Oh, my God!” April said. “My news search program returned a hit off the Mad Closet online sales site. We sent an invitation to Cuba and they posted it buy-it-now for a million dollars North American or an ounce of gold.”
“A million bucks NA isn’t worth an ounce,” Jeff objected. That wasn’t strictly true. There was no set exchange rate.
“Some minor official just stole it,” April said. “That’s so third-world. They steal anything that isn’t under guard or bolted down.”
“But what do we do if somebody buys it and shows up at our ball?” Heather asked.
Jeff did an elaborate shrug. “They weren’t marked non-transferable. Welcome them in and commend them for their resourcefulness. If our gig is worth an ounce, we should have printed up ten extra invitations and sold them at auction to the highest bidders. We might have recouped the entire cost. There are people who’d bid it up because they want to brag on how much they spent for something.”
“People who have more money than brains. Next, you’ll want to hand out swag bags,” April predicted.
“You know, that’s not such a bad idea,” Jeff said. “It could feature lunar products. Some items from sintered regolithic iron, a mug of moon dust ceramics, and teaser pix of Central real estate with lot lines superimposed. Maybe some half-off coupons.”
“And a huge block of fake cheese from the cabbage mines. In a word, no,” Heather said.
* * *
Eileen had two gowns, a half dozen casual outfits, a robe, jacket, and sweater picked out before Cindy grew worried.
“You haven’t set any limit to what you want to spend,” she reminded Eileen. “If it stretches your budget, you can hold off fabricating any of it until later. Just give us a call and we can run it off and send it to the Moon. The gowns need to be fitted but the casual clothing will fit just fine from your basic measurements. If your new things still fit well, you can call us and we can make similar casual outfits using a different cloth to the same measurements.”
Vic was amused. “We aren’t particularly price sensitive. Don’t worry about it. If Eileen is satisfied let’s make me some things,” he suggested.
“That’s enough for now,” Eileen said. “All the choices are overwhelming after a while.”
“What do you want?” Cindy asked Vic.
“I need an outfit for the sovereign’s ball just like Eileen. We will both need work clothing but will buy prêt-à-porter from Earth for our work where it will get heavily soiled and worn. I need casual clothing for off-duty and socializing. I brought a couple of items from home that I’d be happy to work into other outfits if you can.”
Vic got into his travel bag and got his treasured items out.
“The camel hair blazer may be a bit warm but I’m fond of it. The cowboy boots were custom-made and of very fine quality. Oh, and this is my grandfather’s,” Vic said. He pulled his bolo tie out from under his shirt. “You might be surprised to know it’s worth several thousand dollars. My grandfather bought it from a pawn shop for less than a hundred dollars.”
Cindy drew a deep breath and looked shocked. When she found her voice, she shook her head and said “No,” emphatically.
Vic looked surprised, not taking her meaning.
“That’s an untreated stone from the last century?” Cindy asked.
“Yes. It was old when my grandfather bought it. I’d guess it was from early in the twentieth century. Possibly before the First Atomic War. It’s so old it’s coin silver instead of sterling.”
“So, it’s actually native made instead of a copy. Is it signed?”
“It has initials and some sort of symbol stamped on the back but I don’t know whose mark it is,” Vic admitted.
“It doesn’t matter. An expert on Native American jewelry could run it down for you. There are entire books devoted to identifying the origins of such pieces. You may have been correct it was worth a few thousand dollars thirty years ago but there is almost no new turquoise of any quality being mined. The easy to get to sources are depleted, and the places you might find new sources are constantly in conflict and overrun with banditry. Meanwhile, turquoise jewelry has become very desirable to collectors in Asia. I love old jewelry and attend some of the auctions online. Let me show you a recent auction in Singapore for a bolo inferior to yours.”
The image Cindy brought up on her screen was a bolo with a greenish stone of irregular shape and spider web matrix estimated at fifty to sixty carats. The auction house blurb apologized that the stone would be too difficult to dismount and liable to damage to get an exact weight. The finding tested as silver from Mexican pesos or coin melt, and was typical of work from the 1940s.
“Four hundred ninety thousand Australian dollars?” Vic exclaimed. “That’s insane.”
“Your stone is nicer, half again as big and the silver work is much finer. A billionaire can drop that on a trinket as easily as you buy lunch,” Cindy said, “but most would be buying something like this as an investment. If you want me to work that into your outfit for the ball, I can guarantee a few jaws will drop and you’ll get stares from folks who know their way around vintage jewelry. Most folks that own a jewel like this will keep it in a safe or bank box and never wear it in public.”
“Do it,” Eileen told him. “I always loved that tie. Grab any chance to establish a solid social standing right from the start. We don’t want them thinking we’re rubes or poor.”
* * *
“India announces they will collaborate with South Africa and Norway to build a superluminal ship capable of carrying a lander,” April read from her news feed.
Jeff looked surprised and set his pad aside thinking about it.
“I didn’t think they would refine their efficiency so quickly,” he admitted. “I wonder how many crew such a ship will carry? I think the opportunity to get on the commission protecting claims is driving a lot of money into research. I suspect India is supplying the tech in that triad, Norway funding, and South Africa both funding and maybe contributing materials like platinum directly.”
“They probably figure the first nations forming the commission will get favorable status,” April said. “I think they are right about that too.”
“I wonder if they are commissioning a ship to be built even before they have tested the drive technology. They may have designs with everything laid out but a big blank area labeled drive section. If they don’t deliver on the expected improvements once they build and test the new design it’s going to be a huge embarrassment. Theories are fine but engineering won’t conform to untested theory,” Jeff said.
“If drive tech is advancing that fast it may be obsolete before it even flies,” April predicted.
“You can always cut the whole drive section off and modify it,” Jeff said. “It just won’t be as elegant or integrated and it will be more than half again the expense. It does make you wonder how long it will be before these first ships are functionally obsolete. Then what will happen?”
“I think they will be snapped up by smaller countries or even corporations for pennies on the dollar for those who are desperate to get in the game but don’t have the means. After all, one big find of a living world or sufficient mineral wealth would more than pay for the ship. It’s just a race to see if you can make that big find before you burn through all your cash operating the ship. I was approached by Eddie Persico to invest in star flight but all he was offering was investment. He has too much to manage to devote his personal time to the effort. I expect he won’t be the only spacer to buy into inferior Earth ships rather than sit out a new age of exploration. If they can’t offer something important enough to compel us to partner with them the Earth commission will be the only game in town.”
“For now,” Jeff said. “The future can surprise us. There may be someone who figures out how our drive works or even improve on it. With all their billions in population, Earth has to have more geniuses than our whole population.”
“Yes, but they throw most of them away by failing to recognize them, discarding them as the wrong caste, wrong sex, or even wrong religion,” April said. “Their education system is such a mess it’s almost an intelligence test to avoid it and find some other route to attaining your ambitions.”
“Which is pretty hard in physics,” Jeff said. “The governments and multinationals own all the big expensive toys with which you can test theories.”
“But you didn’t need a huge accelerator or multi-billion-dollar lab,” April pointed out.
“We had my mother and China’s abysmal stupidity in alienating her. Then I happen to be not an innovator in theory, but an integrator of technologies in just the right place to use her discoveries. We lucked out and can’t count on that happening over and over. If we don’t stay ahead of them, they’ll eat our lunch for sure,” Jeff worried.
“I’ll ask Chen to keep an eye on the ship building and any announcements about drive tech,” April said. “What’s one more thing given all he’s assigned?”
“He doesn’t research everything personally,” Jeff said. “He has people too.”
* * *
Vic assured Ian that they could find their way to the north docks without him holding their hands. Ian reminded them they’d paid for the whole day.
“I’m entirely happy with your service,” Vic said. “If you doubt it, here’s a little something extra to demonstrate it.” He handed Ian a hundred-dollar Aussie tip.
“Thank you. If you come back to Home again don’t forget we offer courier service and can recommend just about any other service you might need.”
“Can we ask for you by name?” Vic asked.
“You can, but I may have too many demands on my time to serve you personally. My boss is thinking about moving to the Moon and I might buy the business.”
“It seems like a good business that wouldn’t require a lot of equipment or capital investment,” Eileen said, “It’s almost a license to print money.”
Ian laughed. “That’s one of his other businesses but it’s not for sale.”
* * *
“I should warn you,” Mo told his sovereign. “I’ve had several people suggest that we should make the queen’s ball an annual holiday before we even have the first one. As far as I can see none of them have networked with each other to promote it. But one couple with a large cubic said he’s is laying out a buffet and having two other couples in to watch the ball with them. I didn’t tell any of them that I’d heard the idea before. I didn’t want to encourage them to conspire on it not knowing how you would feel about it.”
“Why do you think that has such appeal?” Heather wondered.
“Well, we all do work hard with very little time off. I’m not complaining. I’d rather be busy than try to fake being occupied. That’s harder than actually working. But everybody came from a culture that had holidays and we’ve kind of abandoned that custom. If we celebrated all their old holidays, we’d have a hodgepodge of so many every other day would be a holiday. In fairness, nobody wants to celebrate the other guy’s special day. I think we have two people who’d regard Guy Fawkes’ Day as special. A couple who make a big deal of the fifth of May, four who venerate the Ganesh Chaturthi festival, and one guy who appears to be honestly serious about Festivus. He even has the stupid aluminum pole.”
“How do you feel about it,” Heather demanded.
“There’s an old saying, ‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.’ I think it is basic to human nature to have breaks and not work every day the same endlessly. Even the medieval lord let the serfs have a church day and special holidays. Even though they were little better than slaves attached to the land. We are past being in a desperate survival situation here. I think you would have happier healthier subjects to allow them some time off. It might benefit you too,” Mo concluded. “You drive yourself pretty hard. It makes it harder for others to ever ease off, if their boss is a workaholic. Not everybody can sustain the same level of work before their quality suffers or they burn out.”
“Am I that bad?” Heather asked.
“Your picture is beside the entry for workaholic in the dictionary,” Mo said.
“I shall test out how people react if I suggest making it a continuing event,” Heather promised.
Mo was more than happy with that. It was a good sign she hadn’t dropped into the royal plural. She usually didn’t drop into that mode unless she had already made her mind up.
* * *
Several people on Home mentioned that the Moon was much more a frontier and not as developed as Home, when they heard that was the Foy’s destination. Eileen hadn’t expressed any new misgivings after hearing that. Vic kept his mouth shut but was prepared for it to be very rough. Living in a cave rough. They were after all just receiving some training there and going on to Prairie. They expected that to be a real hardship post since it was forthrightly described as such, but their contract was only for a year. If the Moon was too short of amenities to suit them, they could retreat to Home as originally planned when their contracts were done. They were inured to a lack of amenities in California post-Day.
Ian casually mentioned that April and Jeff went back and forth between Home and the Moon all the time. As generous as their salaries were, that would still be a burden for the Foys. Those two were at a different economic level and could use one of their own ships instead of buying a shuttle ticket. Heather apparently stayed on the Moon a lot more. Since she was sovereign and actively administered her domain that didn’t surprise Vic.
When they landed on the Moon, it was at a Central-owned field sited between Central and Armstrong. They never needed a pressure suit because they never left pressure from the shuttle to a terminal where the passengers sorted into groups going to Armstrong or Central.
The bus to Central was easily as nicely appointed inside as any public transport on Earth. They entered at the rear where there were two doors open so it was an airlock if needed. Vic quietly mentioned to Eileen that he didn’t know what good that would do them without suits. When they got seats, Eileen just pointed to a panel beside the seats. It indicated an emergency suit was inside but opening it in the absence of an emergency would result in a substantial fee. The bus seated eighteen but there were only six aboard including the Foys. Vic concluded it must get a lot busier on occasion.
There was a human driver but once on the highway, he sat relaxed with one hand loosely on the bottom of the steering wheel letting the automated system drive them. The speed with which they cut through rock formations with only a meter’s clearance made him wonder if merely human reflexes were sufficient if the system broke down. Of course, if forced to take over, the driver would slow down, he hoped.
The reception terminal at Central was reached after following a slope down and entering a tunnel. Vic saw little sticking up above the barren surface to indicate there was any civilization here at all. Just a few roads were briefly visible with very little traffic on them. The bus entered a garage with freight haulers docked to one side and passenger vehicles accommodated on the opposite side. They backed up to a gate and sealed to it before the inner door in the bus opened.
The waiting area had some vending and screens showing scheduled arrivals and departures to both the landing field and Armstrong. They also had transfer shuttles listed to two other terminals.
A transport that looked to be a close relative of a golf cart pulled up on the pressure side. All four of their fellow passengers stood up and rushed to get seats filling them up. Eileen didn’t even bother to stand. Vic agreed with her it wasn’t worth an undignified scramble to get a seat. It did make him examine the exit. It was six doors side by side. Vic took a few seconds to figure out they housed emergency pressure curtains to isolate either side in a failure. He’d guess the multiple doorways were a standard size for the sake of economy.
Their patience was vindicated when another cart pulled up and the driver held up a whiteboard that said “Foys.”
When they stood and grabbed their bags, he looked pleased, wiped the whiteboard, and replaced it under the seat.
Vic tossed their bags in the back and helped Eileen up as it was a high step.
“Hi, I’m Mo. I was on the surface so Bobby asked me to pick you up on the way down.”
“Do you work for Bobby like us?” Vic asked.
“No, we both work for the three directly, usually with Heather. I’ve been around a lot longer than Bobby and my work has always been here on the Moon. Bobby works more often with Jeff. So far, the three haven’t given us conflicting orders. How they sort it out I’m not sure but it works. Everybody does whatever is needed without arguing over the chain of command. I was on my way down so I waited for you for about ten minutes. I don’t have to check to see if I’m allowed to help someone with a minor matter. If the shuttle had been a half hour later you might have been assigned one of the freight drivers. There’s no reason to send somebody to the surface and waste forty man-minutes when we have people going both ways all the time.”
“We’re going that deep?” Eileen asked.
“Yes, we’re going down where the rock is at a shirt-sleeves-comfortable temperature,” Mo said. “Heather insisted we stop and cut her permanent residence and administrative spaces where it is a couple of degrees to the cool side of the comfort zone. She feels thermal pollution from human activity will raise the ambient over a century or more. We haven’t measured any general increase yet but I think she is right. If it gets too hot, we’ll have to install heat pipes to cool it. There are vertical channels reserved for that and for lower levels.”
While they talked Mo drove them along several short tunnels and backed into an elevator that was a snug fit for the cart. They started a drop that lasted a long time.
“The drop would take a lot longer if we had to use a slower freight elevator making stops. This is an express elevator and we have automatic priority status since we fill it up,” Mo said. “I also have an override code to claim express status if I need it when I’m on foot. I try not to use it unless I have a schedule to keep. If I save my time, I’m trading it for delaying somebody else time who needed the elevator. You never know how many others might be inconvenienced in turn. Elevators are the bottleneck. I don’t think it’s possible to have enough of them. We’d need a personal elevator for every resident in the extreme.”
“I can see it,” Vic said. “Pretty soon you have a big chunk of your total cubic given over to elevators. The deeper you go the worse it gets. You have the same problem in the other direction in skyscrapers.”
“Exactly,” Mo agreed.
“Couldn’t you run it like a railroad?” Eileen asked. “Different trains use sections of the track at the same time and they have sidings where you can pull over and let another train past.”
Mo looked at Eileen with new interest.
“Indeed, we plan on adding sidings, as you put it, every kilometer on the freight elevators first. It hasn’t reached the point yet that they are cost-effective. We already can switch to horizontal travel with these small elevators. You’ll feel us take such a jog soon. The reason is that we have dead ends and collapsible sections to absorb the shock waves if we are nuked again.”
“Again?” Vic asked.
“The Chinese laid a one-megaton weapon right on Central a few years ago,” Mo said.
“Before the strike on the California coast?” Vic asked.
“Yes, well before. I don’t think they were related at all,” Mo said.
“There’s our sideways jog,” Mo said as the elevator braked and then moved sideways.
“Where we were living was North American territory then,” Vic said. “They kept anything about that out of our news.”
“That’s not surprising,” Mo said. “And if an event is too big to cover up, they will at least lie about all the motives and details of the story.”
“Do you feel Texas does the same?” Vic wondered.
“So far, I haven’t seen Texas doing the sort of stupid things that need covering up,” Mo said. “I’ll hold judgment until they have a little more history. I know April thinks well of them but she has refused to do anything to deliberately aid them against North America.”
“So, you do follow Earth politics,” Vic said.
“More now than when I lived there. When you live next door to crazy violent neighbors you better keep an eye on them,” Mo said. “Taking Home out past the Moon made it a little safer but as Heather laments now and again, we can’t take the Moon any further away. That’s what is driving the exploration of other worlds like you are getting involved with. The further away we are from Earth the better.”
“We’re dropping again,” Eileen said.
“Yes, we’re past halfway,” Mo told them. “I’ll take you by your rooms. You have a separate little suite for married couples. There are pedestrian lanes at that level and a center lane for vehicles this size or smaller. Some folks use small bikes and scooters down to the size you stand on. There is signage if you want to go to the cafeteria or other services. Just about anything you need should be within six hundred steps. The local net has a map if you want to download it to your spex. I assume you got the spex on Home and that address will work just fine here.”
When they got to their stop Mo pulled into the corridor. A convex mirror let him see near traffic but he was still cautious. It was wider than those at the surface with a soft pavement. The center where Mo drove slowly was a gray heather while the edges were dark red. They passed more shops and entries along a few hundred meters than the Foys could possibly remember. There were rather more pedestrians than they expected and a few waved at Mo as they went past. He stopped in front of an entry with the usual emergency pressure gate open. Beside it on the wall, it said: Transient Barracks.
“Inside will be a screen with the current residents. You can see which rooms are yours to find them. There will be cards in your door to lock and unlock it. At your com desk, you can choose if you wish to show on the public board if you are home or not. You can even remove your name from the listing and go incognito if you wish.”
“Thank you, Mo. We appreciate the lift and the guidance,” Vic said.
“We’ll likely see each other around. It’s still a small community,” Mo replied.
* * *
Fred Hayes considered all the parameters of what Jeff Singh told him they needed, the volume of material desired, and the environmental conditions. He didn’t pay any attention to the tacky atmosphere of New Las Vegas or the luxurious accommodations in the Larkin shuttle as he was in work mode. He made lots of sketches and notes. The usual databases he’d used clear back to college were accessible on his computer from the shuttle and he wasn’t even aware a whole world of access had opened to him now that he was outside North American firewalls.
The biggest danger Fred could see was that the operating conditions on the surface of Titan were far outside those that all the existing refineries and chemical process plants operated under. There was much more available now on designing for a lunar environment. He might well design a facility and find it needed a major change that would be very difficult to do in the field.
What he decided to propose to Jeff was a lab bench scale prototype with extra sensors and cameras that they could trial before investing in a full-sized facility. It would be expensive, and a delay, but much cheaper than a major revision even if they designed it with easy access to service in mind.
It was going to be a challenge to design an intake for a liquid methane and ethane mix that could operate for long periods without getting clogged with unknown debris or losing contact with a receding shoreline. You didn’t just toss an open hose in and hope it worked. They needed not just a simple dip sample of the fluid to check for composition but to suck some through a filter to find out what might be suspended in it. Were there currents or movements that might stir up the bottom?
If there were heavier sediments, they needed prevent their accumulate anywhere in his process line. He sketched an intake boom with an intake filter that could be reverse flushed. It should operate something like a floating dock, able to adjust to changing fluid levels. Did Titan have surface tides? Being tidally locked to Saturn it shouldn’t that much. He needed to research that and leave some sensors behind to document that over at least one orbit.
Eventually, Fred got so hungry he couldn’t ignore it. Despite the well-designed couch he had in upright mode, his butt was thoroughly numb. He was forced to take a break to use the toilet and check out the vending machines. He hadn’t had this much fun in years.
Chapter 18
The com desk had a blinking light signaling a waiting message before Vic could set their occupancy preferences. He opened it first.
Mr. and Mrs. Foy,
You will arrive too late in our day to accomplish anything in the shift time remaining. Please rest a little from your journey, try out the cafeteria where you are already registered and need no documents, and explore a little if you wish.
Tomorrow, please present yourselves to Bobby Ennis on level 34 room 68 by 0900.
Jeff Singh
“By 0900,” Vic read to Eileen leaning over his shoulder. “Do you think that’s a little test to see if we are slackers if given a chance?”
“Could be,” Eileen said. “Or they may operate on an entirely different clock since they aren’t tied to daylight hours. You may think that’s a late start for a California rancher because it’s hours after sunrise, but he gives no hint of how late they consider it normal to work. When we try the cafeteria, I’ll quiz the serving people on when their busy times are. That will give us some idea when people report to work and when they are off and free to have supper.”
“Did I ever tell you you’re pretty smart, Mrs. Foy?”
“Not nearly often enough.”
* * *
“We’ll do a dress rehearsal and double-check our audio synchronization tomorrow,” April told Heather. “We can do it at the main entry to the Grand Audience Hall but we aren’t going to put the façade in place. Do you want to come to check it out?
“Yes, I’d love to see the costumes. It’ll give me an excuse to see the seating they are setting up in the alcoves and the buffet down the gallery to my court without looking like I’m critical and checking up on them. It just happens to be on the route to see your rehearsal. We should have enough seating that if anyone intensely dislikes another there will be alternatives to sitting near them. Some of the Earthies have feuds going back generations and there’s no way I can keep track of all of them.”
“If anybody gets too fussy about other guests just tell them the duel is perfectly acceptable here and they can take it out in the corridor,” April suggested.
“That would chill them, wouldn’t it? They aren’t used to facing real and immediate consequences.”
* * *
Vic set the options on their rooms to show they were in residence but not if they were in or out. The place was a suite. Small, but with a separate bath, a shower but no tub, a bedroom, and an L-shaped living room. There were linens on the bed, more in a closet, and towels in the bathroom. Only one bar of generic soap was by the sink so they’d have to find out where to get anything fancier. There was a counter with a small sink and storage along the short side of the L where you could put small appliances for a minimalist kitchen if you wished, but nothing was provided. The walls didn’t show tool marks like some of the tunnels had behind their sprayed-on sealed surfaces. A few were carpeted and some had a textured plastic film. Indeed, except for a lack of windows, it looked very much like any decent extended-stay hotel would on Earth. The hardest part to get used to was the furniture that looked impossibly fragile, but worked fine in lunar gravity.
“There’s nowhere to put full-sized kitchen appliances,” Eileen noted with concern.
“I wouldn’t expect that in any place labeled transient quarters,” Vic said. “We’re both going to be busy training. If the food in the cafeteria is passable you should welcome not needing to cook when we come home. You don’t have to start a fire in the wood stove and feed it either. That alone is a huge improvement from our previous circumstances. Also, we have a pass to the cafeteria, and I didn’t hear anyone offering us free groceries if we don’t like it.”
“Hmmm… I hadn’t thought about that. Nor have I seen any indication a grocery store even exists. Let’s go try the cafeteria soon, and hope for the best.”
* * *
Jeff, April, and Heather all had their phones emit a high-priority ringtone. That was rare enough to make them stop and take the call immediately.
Chen appeared on the screen looking worried. Given his usual inscrutable expression, it was downright alarming.
“Things are happening in the Western Pacific that I don’t understand and which concern me,” Chen said.
“Narrow it down,” Heather insisted. “War, cyclone, or tsunami? Be specific.”
Chen took a deep breath and nodded.
“Financial and political. But I can’t say which is driving the other. Except for mutual stupidity over the last several decades. The head of the Japanese Central Bank stood down yesterday effective immediately with no warning and no announced successor.
“The financial officers of three large corporations did the same today and another resigned by taking his own life.”
“Oh, that’s ugly,” Heather said.
“The Japanese Central Bank did small interest rate hikes each of the last three months, but yesterday before the chairman quit, it announced a full percent hike and withdrew a lot of accommodations to member banks. The acting chairman said that they expect to do the same next month upon his appointment.
“The banks in the Philippines closed for three days and will open with withdrawal limits. Vietnam placed limits on foreign currency requests and in Singapore, two bankers plunged to their deaths from a building with windows that don’t open.”
“Why is this of immediate concern to us?” Heather asked.
“Australia, with whom you do the majority of your Earth trade and whose currency is favored by Spacers second only to solars, holds more Japanese bonds than the rest of the non-Japanese world combined.”
Heather still didn’t get it but Jeff looked at April and she was horrified.
“The Japanese are getting a bad case of the sniffles and Australia will be getting a case of pneumonia,” Chen said bluntly. “It may be fatal in the sense of destroying their economy and bringing their government down. Two months from now those bonds the Australian banks own paying two percent will have a fifty-percent haircut in value. If they keep hiking past that it will be even worse. That’s the majority collateral for some Australian banks and they aren’t going to be solvent. The Australian dollar is going to reflect this because Japan is now their primary trading partner. They just recovered from China descending into chaos and now this. There will be bank runs, and even the first to get their deposits are going to find they didn’t save much when they go to spend them.”
“How much time do we have?” Heather asked.
“Three or four days while the people who understand what it means get ahead of the mob,” April said. “The politicians will assure everyone they have a plan and their dollars are safe and guaranteed. They’re right. They’ll get paid every Australian dollar on account. What isn’t guaranteed and never could be is how much those dollars will buy.”
“How much of our wealth is tied up in Australian dollars?” Heather asked.
“Very little,” Jeff assured her. “Our wealth is in ships and properties and the metals you have stockpiled from the French mills. We’ve had to hide just how much that is to keep from depressing the metals market. We don’t even have to introduce it into trade. Just knowing you could release them is sufficient to devalue them. However, on the plus side, only about twenty percent of our depositors are holding their accounts in Aussie dollars. We need them to buy Australian goods because our solars are valued too high to be useful for Earth trade. We could deliberately run our economy with induced inflation to make trade easier but we simply refuse to do that. It robs people of their savings and cheats them out of the natural increases in productivity that invention and innovation produce. We get rich enough without being crooks.”
“Then this mess is like when Barack and his ladies came back from ferrying the snowball and found out their pay in North American dollars might buy a burger and fries,” Heather said.
“Exactly,” April said and got a supporting nod from Jeff. “But this time we are like the snow ball owners and the people we contracted with for Australian dollars are going to be like Barak’s crew. They’ll just know it sooner. Barack and his ladies were struggling to survive and not following the Earth's financial news at all.”
“Well, we can’t do that to our people,” Heather said indignantly.
“The snowball owner didn’t have the means to make it right until later,” April said.
“No. Not only is it wrong, we need them to stay and continue their work,” Jeff said. “We’ll have to unload every Australian dollar we can and switch to paying in solars. Even our contracts with Australian suppliers won’t be enforceable if they can’t buy supplies at the old rates. But none of us are going to get the full value we thought we would from what we are holding. We’ll issue so many solars to make people whole that the value of them will come down a little. There’s just no help for that.”
“Shouldn’t we tell Irwin right away?” Heather asked.
“Yes,” Jeff looked up at Chen on the screen and gave him a nod to do that.
Chen normally liked to work behind the scenes, but didn’t object. Speaking with Irwin wasn’t a public action. Irwin was the model of discretion.
“He’s no idiot,” Chen said. “He runs the Private Bank very well and I’d be shocked if he isn’t already aware of at least parts of this.”
“Tell him we are acting on this within the hour. Anything else before we send you to do that?” Jeff asked.
“No.” Chen smiled. “My pay is in solars so I don’t need to renegotiate with you.”
* * *
“The county government and Texan liaison promise to make diesel fuel available to the public sometime this fall,” The evening radio news announced. Alice didn’t comment on it until they signed off. It was their custom not to talk over the report which might make them miss something.
“If they make diesel available this fall before the passes close, I’m going to have a light pickup truck brought in from Reno,” Alice decided, “I believe the Brazilians make a cute little one. If anyone makes such a thing, a diesel cultivator too. Not to plant big areas like a tractor but to make the kitchen garden easier to put in and a bit bigger. They can bring it in on the pickup and save the freight costs.”
“I’m sure the diesel is going to be very dear,” Tommy warned her. “Not to mention, the price of even small utility pickups may be a shock to you. If you wait until they have gasoline for sale again. Vic’s old pickup can probably be refurbished much cheaper. That is, if he left a title for it that can be conveyed to you.”
“Well, that’s my concern,” Alice told him firmly.
Tommy looked at her with a parade of emotions on his face from disbelief to resentment. He opened his mouth to speak a few times and closed it, swallowing whatever he intended to say.
* * *
“We have a lot of special treats arranged for the ball,” Mo said. “We have a hundred-meter tunnel in the cabbage mines now dedicated to just asparagus. We didn’t grow it earlier because it isn’t suitable for multiple low-clearance trays and switching crops. You need to let the plant grow to about a meter after a few harvests, to restore the roots. Then it needs to be cooled down for a period of dormancy before another period of harvests. It’s a very resource-intensive crop, but something people have requested over and over from the very beginning of the cabbage mines. They’ve been through three dormancies now and we’re just starting to get new cuttings. We’ll have a good supply for the ball. I’m just sorry we haven’t cut tunnels and started dwarfed fruit trees. Maybe in another four or five years, we’ll have lemons and cherries.”
“Fruit travels pretty well frozen or freeze-dried. When do you think we can have lobster?” April asked. “The Fox and Hare imports them but they are dear.”
“I won’t even predict that,” Mo said shaking his head. “People won’t be happy with crayfish. They are slow growing and the larger kinds are hard to eat served whole. We don’t want to get involved with salt water aquaculture yet. There are salt water fish we’d love to raise if we did that but it’s complex maintaining the water and avoiding diseases. The habitat isn’t just the water either. We might be able to raise salmon in fresh water, but to do it full cycle is complex. Find me a planet with salty oceans and maybe we can introduce Earth organisms. I’d personally like oysters just like you want lobster.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had oysters,” April said. “You recommend them?”
“Yes, but I wouldn’t trust them to arrive live in the shell here due to the shipping time and the cost. You can get them frozen or shucked but they are sad compared to the live oyster in the shell. If you can try them on Earth while visiting close to somewhere they harvest them, give them a try.”
“I keep trying to avoid going down to Earth. When forced to visit, I’m not in any position to do gourmet tourism,” April said.
“We already have a variety of foods that would have made the world’s kings jealous of your table up until the invention of refrigeration and canning. Napoleon was responsible for huge advances in food preservation in the late 1700s. He offered large cash prizes to improve canning because he wanted to feed his armies. Then Birdseye started freezing fish in the 1920s in America. It wasn’t to feed troops. The timing between major conflicts and the expense of the equipment meant that it was strictly commercial.”
“I knew that from somewhere about Napoleon but I never heard of Birdseye. Sometimes it does seem like all the major advances in just about everything happened to help people fight better,” April said.
Mo shrugged. “I love to read history, but most of the dates that historians deem important seem to be about battles, and new tech like antibiotics are associated with conflicts. An exception to that was the American space program. I suppose the Russians got advances from their program, but the Americans made all their tech freely available to commercialize.
“I’m sure future histories will record Heather’s defeat of the expedition from Armstrong, the failed bombardment by the Chinese, and the defeat of their fleet as what mattered. I doubt we’ll get a mention for the introduction of asparagus to the moon.”
“Lindsey the artist is making an illustrated history of Home and it will have entries about Central. I’ll talk to her about adding things for people to understand how we live. It shouldn’t be all about violence. We fought because we had to, not because we wake up and the first thing we think of before breakfast is – I want to bombard somebody today.”
“I doubt they think that of you,” Mo said in a conciliatory tone. “They’re too busy thinking it of Jeff,” he said with a wink. She had to laugh out loud at that.
* * *
“Mr. Hall, I’m calling on behalf of the three,” Chen said.
“I’m well aware of you, for whom you work, and a couple of your associates. I’m even privy to the fact you do very good work. How is it they aren’t calling me?”
“I just dropped a hornet’s nest in their laps and I believe they wanted to act on it immediately,” Chen said.
“The mess unfolding in Asia?” Irwin asked. “If you are aware of that, you know I’m busy right now trying to salvage what I can for the Private Bank. Can you keep this brief? I intend to send a message to all my Australian dollar depositors in another hour or so telling them what I’m doing.”
“You should know the three intend to make good on all their Australian contracts with solars,” Chen said.
“They would, wouldn’t they?” Irwin said and stopped for a moment to consider that in silence. “They are right. Even if I had the physical Aussie dollars to hand out, I’d have failed those to whom I am a fiduciary. We can’t fail to make them whole if it can be done.
“You must be fully in their trust and aware of their entire situation to be of any use to them. I have discretionary powers over about eight hundred thousand ounces. Call it a million solars. Are you aware if your masters are physically able to advance at least half of that for me to satisfy my accounts with an offered conversion?”
“I can assure you they have the metal but I can’t speak to how fast they can coin it and I’m not authorized to speak for them to agree to this loan.” This was terrifying because Chen had never been placed in a position of negotiating for the three.
Irwin made a negating swipe of his hand. He looked angry but Chen understood it wasn’t directed at him but rather the stress of the crisis.
“As long as they are able, it would be suicidally irrational to refuse. If my bank fails to satisfy deposit demands it will be a panic and a bank run that will hit them as hard as me. Tell them I want a half million solar line of credit and I will tell them the details about it tomorrow. Don’t bother me with chit-chat unless they outright refuse. If they have any reason to delay contacting my customers you better tell me no quickly. I recommend they contact their own depositors before they start calling the bank with questions. Don’t worry about physical coining. Unless it’s full-blown panic only a few skittish customers will pull physical solars to feel safe. Anything else?” Irwin demanded.
“No. I’ll go put your proposal to them, and refrain from taking more of your time unless they have objections.”
“That’s good. Do it,” Irwin demanded and disconnected.
Chen took a long deep breath and wondered if this meant his relationship with the three was expanded if they accepted. It was a lot less stressful being a simple master spy. He was horrified these people committed to millions of solars on their word. On his word, without so much as an email much less a black ink contract. He called back immediately. All three listened to Irwin’s proposals with their full attention and didn’t seem upset.
“A half million?” Heather asked making Chen’s heart skip a beat. “Irwin would have a friggin’ stroke if he had any idea how much the French mills have sucked out of regolith.”
“He’s right,” April said. “We need to contact all our Australian dollar depositors. They are collectively short on idiots and I’d hate for them to start calling us about the crisis.”
“Sure. That all sounds good to me,” Jeff said like he was agreeing to their lunch order. “I’ll still order up a few thousand coins to be struck, just in case. It would look really bad to a scared depositor not to have coin to hand over.”
Jeff’s casual acceptance about extending a half million solar line of credit was harder to deal with than the more thoughtful, critical, consideration he’d expected.
“Oh, I should say you handled that splendidly, thanks,” Jeff tacked on.
“My pleasure,” Chen said through clenched teeth and disconnected. He grabbed the waste basket and threw up in it. I don’t think I’m cut out for high finance, he thought.
* * *
The cafeteria was laid out oddly. The counter to order was close to the entry, and a short buffet table was to each side with hot foods in one and chilled things in the other. Then there was a dining room to each side behind them with about fifty seats in each. Right now, there were only three people seated. One man with an unusually large computer was working with a coffee mug at hand, and two younger women talking over dishes that were finished and pushed to the side.
“This kind of makes sense,” Eileen decided. “You can come in and get something quickly without bothering the counter people or holding anyone up.”
“It works because it’s all by subscription,” Vic figured out. “They don’t need to force everyone to go through a pay point. The rare visitor is probably not worth maintaining a payment system.”
Vic turned to check out the hot side first. There were three kinds of soup, rice, two Chinese dishes, chicken stew, and gumbo. A stack of fried flatbread and corn muffins had spices and butter on the side.
“Interesting, they have one size of dinner plates but three sizes of bowls,” Eileen noted.
“Let’s see the cold side,” Vic said.
Two kinds of salad were chilled. A lettuce-based salad with a variety of things to add. One section with olives, sunflower seeds, bacon bits, and chickpeas was labeled, ‘Imported – Please don’t waste.’ There was a village salad with cukes, tomatoes, blanched celery, green peppers, and cubes of some white cheese. What surprised them both was a generous container of cooked prawns that wasn’t marked as imported. There were several dressings in clear containers with a top that opened when you picked it up.
The end of the table had a small section for ice cream and fruit sorbet. Chocolate and vanilla were joined by mint chocolate. A sign informed them the next flavor would be butter pecan when this flavor ran out. There were syrups and four things to sprinkle including crushed peanuts.
“Shucks, I could survive on this OK,” Vic said. “That’s even before whatever is to be had at the counter. Let’s check that out.”
There was nobody visible at the counter but a burly fellow appeared wiping his hands on a sani-wipe before they were halfway there. He called over his shoulder to someone to watch the biscuits. His badge just said, TED.
“We’re the Foys. It’s the first time here for us,” Vic said reading the menu board. “Does the menu change much day to day?”
“About three-quarters of it stays the same. I always try to have chili on the weekends and stuffed peppers on Wednesdays. Fish run in cycles when they change the tanks over, so whatever is available fresh is on the board. They rarely have a surplus, and we freeze some but that usually goes to chowder. Some things like eggplant, we run out between plantings, so you will see eggplant parmesan for a week and then not for a couple of weeks.”
“What’s good today?” Eileen asked.
“I say this in all seriousness,” Ted said. “If anything isn’t up to your standards you are welcome to come back in the kitchen and show me how to make it better. If it’s not as good as grandma’s, I can’t help that unless she’s available to coach me.”
“Anybody ever take you up on that?” Vic asked.
“Oh my God, yes. I had a Thai lady show me how to make Pla Jian or Pla Rad Prik you’d die for. That’s a special order but if you want it, I can do it right. I had a fellow from Maine show me how to do blueberry pie, and coconut custard pie way beyond anything I could do. When we made the coconut custard, I tasted it and ate half before I came up for air. I have three residents on my call list for whenever I make some. I don’t make just one or I’d have fistfights for the last piece.
“As far as a recommendation. I’m personally very fond of the stuffed peppers and we still have them some. They go well with mashed potatoes. I don’t usually have any left over. The shrimp creole over rice is very good. The shrimp, prawns technically, are never a day old. If you have a big appetite, don’t ever be shy to ask for a bigger helping or come back for more.”
“I’ll take the stuffed peppers. Two of them,” Vic said. “The mashed and some butter for on them. Just a small serving of the coleslaw to try it, please.”
“Dessert, sir?” Ted asked.
“I’ll get it off the cold bar if I have room.”
“You, ma’am?”
“Your other recommendation, the shrimp creole, and turnip greens, please.”
“Do you want to reserve dessert, ma’am?”
“Yes, please. I’d like a small slice of the caramel cake.”
“Coming right up,” Ted promised. “We’re slow so I’ll bring it to your table. Otherwise, I set it on the end of the counter and call your name.”
“Thank you. We saw the drinks so we’ll get our own,” Eileen said.
“What do you think?” Eileen asked when they were done eating.
“I think we should enjoy it while we can,” Vic said. “I really doubt we’ll have it this good with a small group on a distant planet. I’ve never had wild rice in the pepper stuffing before. That works really well.”
“So much for the propaganda that the Spacers are all dependent on Earth to eat,” Eileen said. “Without Earth, it appears they would be missing a few condiments.”
“I suspect that would just force them to grow their own. It’s simply economical to buy small volume, low mass items from Earth still,” Vic said. “It may not be practical to grow olive trees in tunnels but what do you want to bet they can be grown on Prairie or some other world they discover? They’re already interested in pigs.”
“Thanks for the idea. I’ll suggest we try olive trees to Bobby when we meet him.”
* * *
“Let’s start a little early,” Vic said. “I think I have the hang of these spex. The highlighted path of door-to-door guidance sounds like a good thing, but I remember GPS programs on Earth that wanted to guide you down railroad tracks or demand you turn into a field where there was no road.”
Bobby was helping another man remove the innards of a hefty-looking transmission when they found him. He had on blue surgical gloves but he had smears of black grease on his arms and clothing. Nick was introduced, and their project disassembling and reverse engineering the compact combine and tractor was explained. Gears and small parts were laid out on a white paper mat with notes beside each piece in felt marker. Bobby pointed out the cameras recording the operation from two angles.
“I didn’t intend to get involved with this,” Bobby said with a wave that encompassed the spread-out parts. “I was just going to meet you but it was interesting and an extra set of hands were needed right at this stage. I’ll strip these gloves and show you the other parts of the operation.”
Eileen insisted on helping him remove the shortie gloves. Doing it himself would just add new dirt to the hands and wrists he’d kept clean.
There were attached tunnels where Vic was shown the progress made accumulating the supplies he’d requested. It was organized, not just stacked. Bobby assured them there were arrangements to get three Angus calves just before they were to leave. When they went to another tunnel, there were racks of seed packets, cuttings, and bulbs that he and Eileen would be working with.
“What about trees?” Eileen asked. “It seems like a perfect opportunity to start some fruit-bearing trees. Some of them, like nut trees, are very slow to mature. The sooner you get them started the better. I’d like to see olives, almonds, pecans, apples, and cherries started if the temperature range works for any of them.”
“You might start some trees for lumber,” Vic suggested. “Not for actual production. Simply to find out which survive or grow well to know which to plant in quantity later.”
“Those are excellent suggestions,” Bobby agreed. “If we did trees in our tunnels they would have to be dwarfed. Full-sized on Prairie sounds much better. You’re about to find out excellent ideas are often rewarded by adding them to your workload around here. We rarely have extra people to whom you can offload these great ideas. This is your first assignment. Find out which trees can be raised from seed and which need cuttings. I know some trees need both sexes to bear fruit. I’ll give you an irrevocable credit card and you can order whatever we need from Earth nurseries or seed companies.”
“Fortunately,” Eileen told him, “We come to you from circumstances where for the last several years there was always more work than could be done, and leisure time was a rare luxury.”
Bobby made a show of rubbing his hands in anticipation. “Just my kind of people!”
* * *
The Foys and many others got a text message.
The Private Bank of Home
To all our depositors holding Australian dollars.
Events in Japan suggest a financial crisis unfolding will have a negative impact on the nations in their economic sphere of influence. Australia as a major Japanese bond holder will be severely hurt. The Bank intends to reduce our holdings of Australian dollars immediately and will no longer accept them. Our contracts to pay in Australian dollars will be renegotiated unless clients insist on the original terms. Depositors with dollars will be made whole with solars. If this action is agreeable text back YES. If you wish to retain your Australian dollars text NO. We are too busy pursuing this action to discuss it in depth with individual depositors. We are intent on responding to this Earth crisis in such a way your financial wellbeing will be safe-guarded.
Irwin Hall / Owner
“I think he sounds on top of it,” Vic said. “Yes?”
“Oh yes. Definitely yes,” Eileen agreed.
* * *
Jeff looked at Irwin’s announcement with a grin and amusement.
“When I did exactly the same thing, refusing to accept North American dollars, he was horrified. He accused me of precipitating the dollar collapse instead of just responding to it. I should razz him thoroughly and accuse him of the same thing now.”
“Irwin has a serious gap in humor when it comes to financial things,” Heather warned Jeff. “You’d upset him and then need to explain why it was a joke. That just kills its value as a joke, leaving you sounding mean-spirited over ancient history to him.”
“And, we’re going to need to release pretty much the same statement in a few minutes,” April chimed in. “I liked how he phrased some things a little better than mine and am going to steal them.”
“People will think our two banks are conspiring,” Jeff warned.
April looks surprised. “I should have thought to include that we are working in cooperation with him. It will boost people’s confidence to see the two banks are of a like mind and intent to have things under control. I’ll ask Irwin’s permission and add it.”
“Oh, uh, sure,” Jeff agreed. However, that wasn’t the direction of his thought at all.
* * *
The Head of Foreign Affairs and Trade for Australia surprised the Director of Protocol, Hanson, with an unexpected call. The man looked angry and Hanson couldn’t imagine why.
“Your trip to the Moon is canceled,” his boss said.
“But I’m packed for it, have my shuttle passes, and was ready to call a car,” Hanson objected. “We already sent them an acceptance.”
“The bank owned by the people sponsoring this ball just announced they won’t accept Australian dollars forthwith. We don’t send envoys to people unfriendly to our interests.”
“Is this because of the Japanese crisis?” Hanson asked. “Is it really that dire?”
“Dire? That’s a good word. Ruinous and devastating work too.”
“I had no idea,” Hanson said.
“Don’t fall into the foolish trap of believing your own side’s propaganda. We have to put on the best face possible or the potential is there for a bank run. In fact, it’s probably only going to delay it.”
“If it’s that bad, how can we reasonably expect them not to protect themselves?” Hanson asked. “As a protocol expert, this looks very bad to do after we’ve accepted.”
“I don’t give a damn. I’m not in a very reasonable mood,” his boss said.
What can you say to that? The man had the authority to cancel his trip. For that matter, he had the authority to declare Hanson insubordinate.”
“Very well. I’ll cancel my flight and tell my office I’ll be staying,” Hanson said, yielding.
“Good. We’re not making any public announcement of this,” He disconnected abruptly.
Hanson sat stunned trying to think what to do next. Then he started applying what he’d just learned personally. They didn’t expect him in the office today. It seemed like a good time to convert his Australian dollars to something else, but what?
* * *
“You should give me the password for the satellite phone,” Tommy said unexpectedly. They were sitting in companionable silence after dinner with Pearl reading and Alice writing in her journal. This must be something he was stewing on because there was no lead in to his sudden declaration from any conversation.
“It’s a matter of safety,” Tommy explained. “If anything would happen to you so you were disabled there’s no way I could call for help.”
Pearl said nothing but the look on her face said Tommy hadn’t consulted with her about this ahead of time.
Alice regarded him with suspicion and was blunt.
“We don’t have an ambulance service. We don’t have a hospital with an emergency room. The Texans have a medic and they’ve been decent about trying to help if you can get to him, but he doesn’t go out on calls. I know they promised a clinic, but that’s still a year or two out. You’d still need me to be conscious to ride on the back of your bike. I don’t know who you think you’d call if I fell and knocked myself out. I’d either recover on my own or die,” Alice concluded. “On the other hand, I have all my personal information like my bank accounts on there, and I’m not interested in sharing that with anybody. If I get married, I might share it with my husband.”
Also, no way in hell did she want him to see the text she’d just gotten from her Spacer bank. Alice thought to herself.
She’d never shared her long-range hopes or plans for the ranch and Titus with Tommy and Pearl like she had with the Foys and didn’t intend to, ever.
Tommy didn’t say anything more because there wasn’t any way to refute that. But he didn’t so much as nod to acknowledge it either. Did he think she was stupid to present such a weak argument? Did he have some sort of illusion that he was the man of the house just because he was male? Alice made eye contact with Pearl and got no reaction at all. Alice could understand that. Pearl would be stuck between the two of them in any dispute. Alice could fire Tommy without a qualm if he got too big for his britches, but she’d hate to kick out Pearl and the kid too. If she did lose them, how would she find other help? She’d better have a backup plan she decided. The peaceful calm they’d been sharing was filled with tension now.
Chapter 19
The only thing limiting the Foy’s hours of instruction was the fact the people teaching them how to be safe on a spaceship, the use of pressure suits, and the mechanics of biological isolation were already busy with other things. When instructors weren’t available, Eileen was sent to the cabbage mines. That was very instructive, not a waste of her time at all. Vic was sent to help Nick with disassembly, except for a few days he was sent to help finish the interiors of hotel rooms needed for the queen’s ball. He’d never laid carpet before and putting it on a wall was an interesting skill to acquire.
When they got back to their rooms every evening, Vic’s prediction they wouldn’t want to make dinner proved true. They were always tired. In the middle of this, they both needed to take a break to have life extension therapy. The treatment hit Vic harder than Eileen, but then once he recovered, he found out he hadn’t been as good a shape as he’d thought. He felt better than he had in a couple of decades, unaware of his slow decline.
Their shipment of personal items from Earth and their clothing from Frank and Cindy arrived the same day and were piled in the hall outside their door. Eileen was a little upset, and then decided it was a positive thing. After all, nothing had gone missing.
They showered as usual before supper and wore some of their new things. That resulted in Ted letting off a shrill warbling whistle of appreciation.
“You don’t look like Earthies anymore,” he observed.
Eileen was embarrassed. Vic was pleased. He didn’t feel like an Earthie anymore.
* * *
Mike Morse joined the coffee pot crowd at the cafeteria. His status with them went up when he became self-employed. Although they still made ritual fun of Glen for buying into Eric’s lotto, a few secretly bought into Mike’s numbers game. When it became obvious that he wasn’t talking their personal business around that enhanced his reputation too.
Glen sat next to him, as was often his habit now if there was a seat open. He’d appointed himself Mike’s buddy. So far it wasn’t often enough to be irritating. He did have the sense to go talk to somebody else when he ran out of news to impart.
“They said they’re going to put the ball on the big screen if you want to come to watch it here Saturday,” Glen told him
“Ball?” Mike said, oblivious.
“The sovereign’s ball on the Moon,” Glen said. “Do you live in a cave, man? If you look at the news and gossip boards that’s the big topic right now.”
“I’d make the case that the Moon people are the ones living in caves,” Mike said.
“I never thought of it that way,” Glen admitted. “Literally instead of allegorically.”
“Why is a ball such a big deal?” Mike asked. “Haven’t you had balls before?”
“No. They dance at the Quiet Retreat but there’s nowhere else to really have a ball. Nobody has bothered to organize that sort of thing on Home. I’m told the Moon queen has a fancy big room that’s suitable. I guess we’ll see on Saturday. What changed, why she has a sudden interest, I don’t know. Her partners are often seen in public on Home but she stays holed up on the Moon and very rarely comes here. We normally don’t hear a peep out of her. Not that she isn’t a political force to be reckoned with.”
“But they’re going to stream it on video live? On Earth, nobody streams things like state dinners live. That’s kind of brave to do,” Mike decided. “If there are people who don’t like her governance and know it’ll be on camera, they might use the event to raise a fuss.”
“I wouldn’t want to try,” Glen said. “She holds court every Sunday and dispenses justice. You can look up all the old court days on video. They post them just like they intend to do the ball. Believe me, she’s a no-nonsense kind of judge. She’s banished people before and she sits with a pistol on the table right at hand. She hasn’t shot anybody but one day she made a note for heads or tails, tossed two guys at odds with each other a coin, and invited them to flip it. Then she’d shoot the loser.”
“But she didn’t?” Mike asked.
“They begged off. Their dispute suddenly seemed less important in the face of a lethal solution. But I took that to mean they were sure she would shoot. Quite a few of the people who bring her complaints withdraw when they see she’s going to resolve their problem and it may not be the way they’d like. There’s no years of appeals and such nonsense.”
“That sounds a lot more interesting than the gossip boards. I may check that out.”
“It’s entertaining and amazing the damn fool things people bring to her court knowing they will be recorded for posterity and freely available,” Glen said.
“You’ve got me interested now. I’ll watch it on Saturday,” Mike decided.
* * *
“Take tomorrow off,” Bobby told the Foys. “Everybody who isn’t working on the ball directly is taking a three-day holiday, to include the day before and after the ball. All the services are running a minimum crew and giving everybody three days off if they can. The cafeteria is putting out an extra hot bar and suspending counter service. Armstrong was all upset when we told them there would be no freight traffic for three days. There are no flowers available starting yesterday, because they are all being diverted to the ball. They ordered a ton of fresh produce yesterday to tide them over. We managed to get it all delivered somehow.
“Having a break in routine is so popular I expect a lot of people to lobby for it to be an annual event. We don’t have any public holidays and a lot of people miss them. Everybody has been working hard without a break for a long time and they’re ready for this.”
“That has to be unpopular to be one of the people stuck working,” Vic said.
“That’s how all safety-related services need to be all the time, but they are going to get comp time at two to one later. The hotel has the first twenty rooms finished which is two more than the distinguished guests who sent an acceptance. We’ll get a few more of the inner circle done and start on the outer circle after the ball.”
“Do you get to enjoy it or are you stuck working?” Eileen asked.
“I’ve had to instruct a lot of people in their roles, but the day of the ball I’m free to just be a guest and enjoy it,” Bobby said. “All the explorers are guests, not workers. There will be others off-site enjoying it vicariously. We’ll have video cameras covering it from several viewpoints and it will be available on the local net and to the Earth space nuts live. It will be archived just like Heather’s court days in the official records.”
“Oh nice,” Eileen said. “I have a dear friend on Earth I’d like to tell how to watch if you’ll give me the link.”
* * *
Friday morning Vic and Eileen could have slept in, but their routine betrayed them. Their eyes popped open at the accustomed time without an alarm.
“I feel like a slacker, not jumping up to shower and report for work,” Vic said.
“Strange, I have not a trace of guilt,” Eileen said. “You aren’t going to jump up and rush out for breakfast, are you?”
Vic was smart enough to know the right answer to that. “They serve it all morning.”
“Now I see why brunch is so popular,” he remarked much later.
“You may shower first and we’ll seek sustenance before it is the afternoon,” Eileen instructed him. “I may have plans for you this afternoon too.”
The cafeteria still had breakfast items aplenty and was busier than they’d ever seen it.
There was a large sign on the far counter.
The serving counter and special orders are closed for the Queen’s Ball.
Staff and guests, please enjoy the hospitality of our buffet tables.
“Some of these folks are invited guests,” Vic surmised
“For sure, dressed like they are. You’re allowed to go back for seconds, you know,” Eileen told him when his plate threatened to overflow.
“That slows me down,” Vic said and balanced one more sausage link on the pile. “Time going to and fro instead of eating is just wasted.” They took the closest open table to the hot bar. Eileen refrained from asking him if that was to cut down on travel time.
An Asian couple came in and stood looking confused. The man came over to them.
“Does that sign really mean that the buffet tables are free?” he asked. He seemed to have a very hard time believing that.
“Yes, closing the counter service is because they’re giving everyone they can time off for the ball,” Vic told him. “But serving guests free is normal. They have so few travelers that setting up a payment system would be more expensive than the potential income.”
“Most jurisdictions would simply raise the price to cover the break-even point and a bit more,” the gentleman said.
“I suppose you could do that, if you didn’t mind making enemies of any visitors and giving them reason never to return,” Vic said.
“We’ve recently arrived ourselves,” Eileen informed him. “That’s the sort of thing I’d have expected too. When I mention it to the locals, they all told me that’s considered Earth Think. I didn’t need to have it explained that wasn’t a complimentary expression. It’s going to be an ongoing adjustment for us, I’m pretty sure. Fortunately, they seem very patient with us about it.”
“What induced you to move to such a radically different culture?” he asked. Then he seemed to have shocked himself and backpedaled.
“That’s highly personal. I’m out of line to invade your privacy,” he apologized.
“That’s OK,” Vic said. His smile suggested it was true too. “If it offended me, I simply wouldn’t answer. It has been our long term-goal as a married couple to emigrate to space. We can buy the complete spectrum of Life Extension Therapies here. Room and board and three million Australian dollars a year for our expertise, to do what we wanted to do anyway, was too good a deal to turn down.”
The Asian gentleman blinked in astonishment. His wife seeing him speak so long quietly walked over beside him in time to hear Vic’s reply.
“Since you don’t mind my deep questioning, I must say, you don’t look like you’ve had the Life Extension Treatments. I’d guess your age as about fifty.”
“It’s only been a few weeks. It takes some time to work its magic. I’m told some things can take a full six months to have their full effect.”
“I’ve noticed that most of the local population appear middle-aged,” his wife said.
“I was told you eventually learn the little tells in appearance between real youth and the effects of the treatments,” Eileen said to her. “I haven’t acquired the skill yet.”
“What are your other skills that are worth such generous compensation?” she asked.
“My husband is a rancher, familiar with raising beef cattle. I’m afraid I’m riding on his coat-tails because they had to hire me to get him. I’m a practical gardener and will help with the botanical research while he investigates the potential for livestock.”
“Surely raising cattle in tunnels is impractical,” the man said with a vague wave of his hand to indicate the entire settlement. “Perhaps something smaller like rabbits.”
“We’ll be going to a world named Prairie, off around another star,” Vic said with a wave of his own hand to indict off somewhere. “I’m no astronomer to tell you which one.”
The Asian drew a deep breath in astonishment and had obvious trouble letting it out.
“So, it’s true,” he finally said. “I didn’t find it credible.”
“They haven’t tried to hide it at all,” Vic said. “They’re just not into making grand public announcements. I assume you’re here for the ball. If you inquire of your hosts, I’m sure they’ll tell you which star. For that matter, they’ll probably explain any of the other oddities you’ll see here.
“You’re standing there hungry and delaying to speak with us. Why don’t you get your breakfast and join us at our table? You’re welcome to ask what little we know as newcomers ourselves. I’m Victor Foy and this is my wife, Eileen.”
For a second the man went poker-faced and Vic thought he was going to decline. His wife, though, smiled and was pleased.
“We are Kawase and Atari Toyo,” she said indicating who was each with a gesture. “I am also riding on my husband’s coattails. Such a graphic idiom! He is Deputy Minister for Foreign Affairs and I’m here because that’s what protocol demands.”
“Not to offend,” Eileen said, “but Minister for what nation?”
“Oh, Japan. That wasn’t obvious, was it?”
“Not to me,” Eileen admitted. “I’d have said Far East and that’s as close as I could get. I suppose you get skilled at reading the little differences in appearance, just like they can spot the life extended here. Your dress is western and your English unaccented to my ear so that’s no clue for me.”
“Let us do as you suggested and we can talk more when we return,” Atari said. “Then you can reciprocate and tell us what Earth nation you are from. It isn’t obvious to me.”
“OK, try the Danish pastries,” Eileen suggested. “They’re really good.”
* * *
“I wish Irwin would send out some updates on the Australian situation,” Eric said.
“I hope you aren’t going to fret about it and keep checking your phone at the ball,” Jenifer said. “I bet Irwin isn’t going to sit with his face glued to his phone instead of enjoying the ball.”
“I don’t even know that he’ll be there,” Eric said.
“The owner of the only other Spacer bank and a friend for whom April was willing to bombard North America to gain his release? He’ll probably stay home and wave a couple of breakfast sandwiches because he has laundry to bag and put out,” Jenifer said.
“You really think they are that close?” Eric asked. “I’ve never seen them visiting each other socially when I’ve made deliveries.”
“You think this is a social event?” Jenifer asked.
“It isn’t?” Eric asked.
“Sometimes I think you are as obtuse about people as Jeff Singh,” Jenifer said. “This is about power politics and very high-level business. It’s to demonstrate Heather is not some quaint throwback to a bygone era, like the silly royals that are no more than national pets or mascots to European nations. It’s to show she has enough wealth to be taken seriously. I expect it to be quite a show. I don’t know anything about where she lives, but I can tell you right now it’s not going to be like a rented room at a Holiday Inn to pitch condos with rubber chicken and rental chairs.”
“OK, maybe I have to rethink it a little,” Eric admitted.
“You were convincing me how valuable it proved to give those three super service and cultivate a relationship. This is another huge opportunity. Just walking around and schmoozing with the crowd that these three run with is going to enhance our reputation with all sorts of important people. The ball will be streamed in real-time and I’d bet a lot of the guests will record the whole thing from their personal perspective on their spex. If they don’t know who anyone is they’ll look them up later. You’re being credited with adult status by the Queen of the Moon and her Peers. It’s not Home and you aren’t bound by Home customs on the Moon. I’d go by the Chandlery while you still have time before the shuttle, and rent an expensive pistol to wear to show you have adult status in Heather’s domain. Tuck it back almost out of sight.” Jenifer demonstrated at her waist.
“You don’t think that might seem pushy?” Eric worried.
“Not even a little bit. If anyone questions it explain it just like I told you.”
“You know, it’s even more interesting now. Any other suggestions?” Eric asked.
Jenifer really appreciated him respecting her advice. Asking for it even.
“Just one thing. If people ask about your business, downplay it. If you start reciting everything you do, they’ll just figure you for another braggart. If you look embarrassed and wave it away as a minor endeavor, it’ll have the opposite effect.”
“OK, we’ll play it that way. You need to support it too.”
“That will be easy. I can just say I’m your fiancée and people will immediately assume that is the basis of our relationship and little else.”
“That wouldn’t bother you?”
“No, I’d much rather be stealthy and underestimated,” Jenifer said.
* * *
The Toyos recited a very brief history of Kawase entering government service straight from university and enjoying a steady advancement, after their meal. They’d married late when he was able to support a wife and when his position dictated he marry as befitting his position. Atari supposedly didn’t work but her social obligations as a minister’s wife were full time. She knew that was her real work from the beginning.
They were amazed to hear the Foys were Texans but had been North Americans a scant few months ago. The Foy’s story took much more time, with the Toyos asking questions until they lingered late over coffee. They didn’t sugar coat their experiences after The Day, a few of which shocked Atari.
“My understanding is that the hotel where you are staying will eventually have its own restaurant,” Vic told the Toyos. “Once the inner circle of rooms is finished, they will build another arch of bigger, fancier suites around it. They’ll have a gym and pool as well as a restaurant. They are even making noises about having a garden for quiet meditation and relaxing. The smaller units already finished aren’t half bad. They’re nicer than the temporary suite we’re in before we go to Prairie.”
“You’ve viewed them?” Atari asked.
“Our instructors were all tied up for a day so Eileen got assigned to the cabbage mines and I got to hang carpeting on the walls at the hotel. Something I’d never done. Once you have somebody who knows what they’re doing show you how it’s not very hard.”
“Cabbage mines? I thought I spoke English,” Atari said.
“A whimsical name for the farming and aqua-culture facility,” Eileen said. “Very little we’re enjoying here this morning is imported. Some of the seeds, spices, olives, and pork. Pretty much everything else is produced locally. They do a large business with Armstrong and Home in food and flowers.”
“You don’t object to doing menial labor outside your specialty?” Kawase asked.
“I’m pretty sure they’d object to the whole term menial,” Vic said. “If it’s needed and worth doing, it is worthy of our time. Everybody keeps busy because the work is never caught up or done. My boss will drive a freight truck or spray tunnel sealant if it needs to be done right now with some urgency. Our expedition to Prairie has a looser timetable than some local projects. He has a doctorate and is a Nobel prize-winning biochemist but doesn’t find it beneath him.”
“They’d classify it as Earth Think,” Atari guessed.
“Yes. I’m pretty sure that’s how he’d see it. There is very little class or caste distinction tolerated,” Vic said. “That’s one reason why so many can’t adjust and return to Earth in the first six months to a year.”
Atari looked very thoughtful.
“I’m sure it’s much harder if you were from a class that enjoyed better privileges.”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that but I’m sure you’re right,” Vic agreed.
Atari was gathering their cups to put on the dirty carts as they’d seen others do.
“I’m looking forward to meeting the sovereign and her partners tomorrow,” said Kawase as he stood. “I thank you for your help. Your explanations of how things work here will soften what would have been a major culture shock. I still expect to find other things to jolt me out of my comfortable expectations.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting them too,” Vic said. “I’ve only met Jeff Singh via a video call and haven’t met any of them face to face.”
“You’ll be at the ball tomorrow?” Kawase asked. His poker face was back.
“And Eileen of course,” Vic said. “Thank you for your company.”
Kawase acknowledged that with a very formal bow but didn’t speak.
When the Toyos were safely out the door Vic allowed himself to smile at Eileen.
“He didn’t even make it out the door before he got the next culture shock.”
“And I thank you for not rubbing it in,” Eileen said. “I’m pretty sure Heather wants to continue good relations with all these guests, not alienate them.”
* * *
“The table cloths do add a touch of elegance. I don’t think I’ve seen one except in old videos. Did we get them from Earth?” Heather wondered.
“They’re more like felt or very soft paper, not woven,” April said. “You’d have to ask Jeff for the technical details. I know the surface of the fibers are different. There’s a binder too but it just cements where the fibers catch on each other.”
“Are they washable?” Heather asked running her hand down the material and feeling it between her fingers.
“I think it’s easier to recycle it like repulping paper and add a new binder,” April said. “I have no idea if the binder is water soluble.”
“Maybe we can use it for clothing,” Heather speculated.
“I have no idea. It seems soft enough,” April said.
“I think I’ll ask for some samples to show your tailors, Frank and Cindy.”
April smiled. “Here’s something that is woven,” she said. She pulled out a chair and felt the seat. Heather leaned closer and felt it and scraped a nail on it.
“Wire cloth?” she asked
“Yep. Titanium wire cloth hung on titanium tubing. It’s so delicate looking I expect the Earthies to sit very cautiously until they find out it’s strong enough. It’s all local materials and it looks good too.”
“It does,” Heather agreed. “It looks like very expensive commercial furniture. It would look just fine around a big boardroom table.”
“Mo goes way beyond making sure it supports you safely and comfortably. The man has a sense of esthetics,” April said.
Heather nodded in agreement. “He objects that he’s just a mining engineer, but if you tell him to just do the best he can, this is the sort of work you can expect.”
“Satisfied everything is going well?” April asked her.
“Yes. I can sleep easy tonight knowing we’ll create a good impression tomorrow.”
“Good, I want you to relax and have fun.”
* * *
“We have an official message from home,” Kawase said.
“I thought we’d have a few days peace,” Atari said. “What can you possibly need to know about up here that can’t wait for our return?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ve copied it off the com console and will decrypt it on my pad.”
“This is bad,” Kawase said in a bit. “My boss warns me the government is in quiet internal turmoil because of a breakdown in the financial markets. There was an emergency increase in the central bank rate with more promised. Many heads of companies are stepping down in shame or even taking the honorable way out.”
“Surely that doesn’t impact your department or mission. Financial matters don’t break foreign relations policies,” Atari insisted.
“Not normally, no,” Kawase agreed. “Not unless they pit one nation against another at a level of national survival. That was the genesis of the First Atomic War.”
“Do you think that will change our welcome tomorrow? Do these people even follow regional news and politics on Earth?”
“I think these people as you put it are much more sophisticated than you credit them,” Kawase said. “None if this is aimed to harm them. It would be a foolish way to that end.”
“Do a search and see if the local net has any public stories about financial or political Earth problems,” Atari suggested. “If they are so aware, somebody will be talking about it.”
Kawase tapped a few search commands and sucked in a gasp.
“Nande Ya Nen!” he protested.
“What? Show me what you found,” Atari insisted.
“The two banks based on Home who also do business on the Moon have stopped accepting Australian dollars and are replacing them with the local solar,” Kawase said.
“So, that’s Australia,” Atari said. “They haven’t rejected the yen, have they?”
“No, but they never have dealt in yen in any volume. Mitsubishi owns the habitat but it was their North American division that built it and it started with North American dollars being used for business.
“Everything is interconnected,” Kawase said meshing his fingers. “In trade, one can’t play alone. There has to be a counterparty to every exchange. Australia is our major trading partner since the chaos in China. The Homies have just announced to the world that they expect the Australian dollar to be worthless soon. We won’t have much trade with a country in economic collapse. One may follow the other and we soon may not be in any better condition.”
“My father told me about when China fractured and his business all but failed due to the loss of their custom,” Atari remembered. “That seemed distant and unrelated to my life, as a child. We ate a little more rice and had fewer luxuries. I remember my mother was upset but what do children care about such things?”
“In fairness, we can’t blame them for not supporting a failing state,” Kawase admitted. “If the failure is as advanced as the news indicates, it would soon be someone else who refused worthless Australian dollars. Once it is public it invariably accelerates. The first to flee in a crash fare best. They’ve shown wisdom by taking care of their own. I must not seem accusing or adversarial about this when we meet our hosts.”
“Are we going to suffer hardship like my parents did?” Atari wondered.
“I’m not a merchant. We’ll be somewhat sheltered by my position. But at least some of my retirement accounts are in Japanese bonds and some Australian denominated securities. We may live simpler than we planned but we won’t be struggling to survive. If I had some way to shift what cash we have to a safe place I’d do it, but I have no idea where.”
“These banks seem to think solars are safe,” Atari said.
“But if they won’t take Aussie dollars, I’m betting they won’t take yen. I can investigate it after this affair tomorrow.”
“If we need to stay over a day, I don’t see them kicking us out,” Atari suggested.
* * *
Vic got into more of the parcels from Cindy and Frank. He opened the hanger bag with his jackets. His camel hair jacket and the new one Cindy made using it as a pattern were in it with his new shirts. He laid both side by side on the bed and inspected them closely. The only real difference was in areas such as where the shoulder and sleeve met it felt thinner. With his old jacket, he turned the cuffs back, looked under the lapels, and inspected the lining before shrugging it on.
“You’d never know it was taken apart,” he marveled aloud.
There was a sticky note on the shoulder of the new jacket.
Mr. Foy
Your old jacket was sewn back without any alterations. Since you didn’t request it be updated to your current body scan, I didn’t presume to change it. Your new jacket will be slightly tighter. I imagine you lost some weight and perhaps your muscle structure changed slightly since buying the original. If you ever want it altered to match, we’d be happy to do that. Your new jacket is a dead match for color and the lighter synthetic cloth will be comfortable at a good ten degrees higher temperature. It visually drapes about the same and the difference should only be apparent by feeling the thickness of the cloth. If you feel it needs any adjustment don’t hesitate to request it.
Sincerely, Cindy and Frank
Vic changed to the new jacket and inspected himself in the mirror.
“What do you think?” he turned and asked Eileen.
She was going through her new things and looked up.
“I agree. You’d never know it was reconstructed.”
“This is the new one,” he corrected her.
She looked between it and the jacket spread on the bed.
“I can’t tell the difference from across the room.”
“Then I’m really happy with it,” Vic said.
“Help me with my new gown?” Eileen requested.
Vic was happy to comply.
“Cindy sent these as a gift and suggested I wear them with the gown,” Eileen said. She held up a single strand of modestly sized pearls. Vic took them, fastened the clasp behind her neck, and stood back.
“Cindy said it’s subtle on purpose because people should be looking at me and not flashy jewelry. What do you think?”
“I’m prejudiced. I think you’d look lovely wrapped in a bed sheet.”
“But with this instead?” Eileen insisted.
“Like a Greek Goddess.”
Eileen slowly smiled, satisfied. “A Moon goddess one hopes.”
“That would be Selene,” Vic supplied.
“I don’t know how you remember all this trivia,” Eileen said.
* * *
“Very nice,” Heather said when April put on her new dress.
“You too,” April said. They’d dressed separately. “I like the shield knot at your waist. I have a little something for you that will go with it well.” April produced a gold chain. It was very plain except the links were of six-millimeter wire. The overall impression was you could use it for ground car towing and recovery without harming it.
“Thank you, dear. It does go very well.”
“Women dress for each other,” Jeff said. “It never occurred to either of you to ask me what I thought.”
“You’re not stupid,” Heather told him. “It would never occur to you now to tell us if you hated our new look. You would probably heap praise on them more if you didn’t like them. We’ve taught you social things like the polite little lie too well. There are limits though. I’m not about to smear smelly stuff on my face for the other ladies. I’m well aware that makeup is wasted on most men, but the Earthie girls all crave it as a sign of adulthood. But since the Earthies are allowing six-year-olds of both sexes to go out in public all made up now, it’s ruined that aspect of it.”
“A very few men do appreciate makeup and usually the more the better. But I regard it as one of the less harmful fetishes,” Jeff said.
“I know exactly what you mean and there is usually an unsubtle fashion statement to go with the makeup put on with a putty knife,” April said in disapproving tones.
“Consider it a working uniform,” Heather said. “Like a doc with a stethoscope draped over his lab coat. Something he hasn’t used in years because remote sensing is better.”
“Where does all that leave me?” Jeff wondered and did a slow awkward pirouette that would never win him a ballet audition.
“You are what we’ve made you,” Heather said. “You’d go in a T and cargo shorts if you could get away with it. Isn’t that outfit about four years old?”
“Kind of a mix,” Jeff admitted. “The pants and jacket are about four years old but I’ve only worn them in public twice. The shirt I just love and it’s somewhere over ten years old. When I wear it out, I’ll have Frank and Cindy make me an exact copy. I’ve had enough compliments on my dress to know that the few men who are deeply interested in fashion or use makeup like you mentioned, are into it to signal and impress other men. Those who think it means much to the ladies are idiots. Most people regard me as a fashion accessory to you two.”
“And you’ll do, for that limited duty,” April said. “Now, which of us gets to come in on your arm, Accessory? Maybe Heather because it’s her party?”
“I have messages to send too,” Jeff informed her. “To avoid sending wrong messages I need to enter with both of you on my elbows. The men will get that message.”
“The women too,” Heather told him. “I guess we don’t want to be subtle. Let’s do it. Where are your people putting us? I saw they have tables set up in the first four alcoves.”
“There will also be a few exclusive tables along the perimeter on each side of the gallery entry to your judgment court,” April said. “We’ll sit against the wall and we’ll have four chairs opposite us for guests to visit as they circulate. We won’t roam about except to go dance and we’ll be served rather than go to the buffet ourselves.
“That service will be offered to our Earth guests if they wish. The servers have a menu and video of the buffet tables. Our table will be the first to the right of the gallery and guests will enter across the Grand Audience Hall and need to come straight across the open floor. We want them to see and appreciate the scale of the room and see the art. The fellow from Sylvia’s video whom I called a majordomo will do duty as your herald and announce everyone. He’ll also tell them quietly to proceed across to our table.”
“Will he be wearing a mic?” Heather asked, “Will he be tied into the sound system?”
“You’re going to be surprised at the acoustics,” April predicted. “Mo struck again with a design well past what you’d expect from his formal education. You can speak in a normal voice at the portal and be heard well on the opposite side. But you could paint the whole place in sound absorbent and hear Michael Brightbill. He doesn’t need a PA system.”
Chapter 20
Irwin Hall answered his com, irritated and with a scowl on his face. His second in command was answering all their calls, and only forwarding those who demanded to talk to the owner or with a unique problem to Irwin.
It was Eddie Persico on the screen and Irwin let out a long sigh of frustration and relaxed a little. Eddie was reasonable. He hardly ever called but never wasted his time.
“Hi Eddie,” Irwin said. “I see from the background you’re on the Moon. So am I.”
“Rough day?” Eddie asked.
“Yeah, every idiot with ten Australian dollars on account wants to chat about the politics of it and what we can reasonably expect the Australians to do. If they were reasonable people they wouldn’t be in politics,” Irwin said. “If the past is any guide, I expect them to do the stupidest thing possible.”
“You know that. I know that. Stress a lot of these people and the Earth Think pops back up. How would you like to get rid of a lot of your Aussie dollars on my behalf?”
“I’d be eternally grateful. How much can I unload?”
“Eight-hundred million Australian dollars.”
That was enough to make Irwin stop and blink in amazement a few times.
“I might have to call Jeff and get some of his Aussie dollars to cover that. What do you want to do with it? Buy lotto tickets? Not that that might not be worth doing if it returns more than they’ll depreciate in a couple of days.”
“I want a ten-year low-interest loan with a partial balloon at the end and the possibility of rolling it over if I show the ability to pay going forward.”
“And an egg in your beer, as my grandfather used to say.”
“That’s disgusting,” Eddie said.
“That’s why it’s stuck in my memory,” Irwin said. “Why not just make a gift of it?”
“Sure, wait a month and you’ll jump at buying a kilo of coffee with it.”
“You may be right. What do you want to buy with it?”
“A starship,” Eddie said. “I’m putting in a big chunk of change for myself and four partners. That’s just what we’re short to buy them out.”
“I wasn’t aware anyone would sell a starship at any price yet. I’d have guessed maybe in twenty or thirty years you might get one built to your specs.”
“There will be some available before then. You know some of these people are going to go broke before they find anything. Some will manage it poorly and burn through their cash. An Australian corporation formed to build one is going belly up already. This group of investors went broke before they even got the damn thing built. I know because I was one of the suppliers they stopped paying. It seems to us it’s a decent ship because as suppliers we’re privy to a lot of the specs.”
“How did they manage that and how far along are they?” Irwin demanded.
“The same problem as everyone else in this mess. They had most of their money in Japanese bonds. Like others, the interest rates were just too attractive for them to resist.”
“And issued by a sovereign, so risk-free,” Irwin said sarcastically.
“Indeed. They’ve already missed one payment and it’s guaranteed things will get worse for them before they get better. The ship is ninety percent done in orbit, and being an Australian enterprise, we don’t even have to put sticky labels in English over the controls and such.”
“Well, that’s a savings,” Irwin said. “It saves the cost of a label maker and two rolls of tape. Ten years is a long time to expect me to wait on any income for bankrolling this.”
“You and Singh are cooperating on this. If you don’t have the metal to cover this he does. You wouldn’t have guaranteed you’d cover all those deposits if you didn’t already have the metal in hand. Tell me I’m wrong,” Eddie challenged.
“I already asked them for a half million solar cushion,” Irwin said. “I hate to go back and ask for more.”
“I’ll ask for you if you’re shy. Or maybe I’ll just ask their bank to do the loan. They seem to understand the potential in discoveries waiting out there. They’ve intimated they have real experience with extrasolar assets. The dollar is going down by the hour,” Eddie pointed out. “You may be able to cover the exchange with your existing line of credit by the time we can arrange it. Am I wasting your time?”
“No, but I do have other fires to put out. Let’s ask Singh and his ladies if they’ll cover the deal if needs be tomorrow. If it lets them unload some of their dollars too, I’m pretty sure they’ll go for it. No need to switch horses when we’ve worked so well together until now.”
“And the exchange will be at least five percent better by this time tomorrow,” Eddie said. “The poor fellows don’t have any other suckers lined up to take it off their hands so we can wait a day to finalize it. They were desperate enough to admit that to me. This is assuming Jeff doesn’t mind talking business at their party.”
“All his recent social activities can be covered in about five minutes,” Irwin said. “Then what else are we going to talk about?”
“Truth, but it might hurt his ladies’ feelings to say that out loud. He wouldn’t care. See you tomorrow,” Eddie said hand poised to disconnect.
“Tomorrow,” Irwin agreed and they both exited together.
That would dispose of enough dollars that he could wait on some of the transactions he had intended to make today. Irwin leaned back and relaxed for the first time in days.
* * *
“How do they do things here?” Eileen wondered. “Is it normal to be fashionably late or is it better to even be early?”
“Why not split the difference, assume they mean what they say, and show up on time?”
Eileen blinked and thought about it. “I guess if they don’t expect us the door will be locked and we’ll wait until somebody opens up.”
“So far I haven’t seen any of these people given to play petty power games,” Vic said. “If we show up on time and they’re still setting up not ready for guests you know how it works for the future. What harm could that do? The help isn’t going to run to the three and tell them the silly Foys showed up on time.”
“OK, that’s what we’ll do,” Eileen agreed. “Let’s go get a light lunch. I want to be able to try a little bit of everything from this buffet. I suspect it will be made to impress and showcase their local production. Then we’ll get dressed about an hour early so we don’t look like we slept in our things.”
* * *
“Let’s go have a substantial lunch,” Kawasa said. “I don’t want to appear the sort of boor who loads up on a buffet like it’s his last meal.”
“Now, if I had said that you’d reply that one never knows,” Atari said.
“You know me too well,” Kawasa admitted. “If I fall to misadventure, I guess going out hungry won’t make it much worse. But you do make me rethink it.”
“I have that much influence?” Atari teased.
“My dear, some days I think everything is run by a shadow government of spouses, pulling the reins from behind the scenes. It would explain why the flaming idiots can never decide anything in one brief meeting. They need to check at home to find out what they believe.”
“If our hosts speak about politics, you should advance that theory to them,” Atari suggested. “I’ll be watching closely to see if it changes how they regard me.”
“You tempt me,” Kawasa said.
* * *
“Where did you learn to do that?” his first helper asked the cafeteria’s top chef.
“I worked several seasons on a cruise ship. There were so many buffet tables of different styles the sous chefs had to be enlisted to be able to prepare them all. Even then it was beyond the Chef De Cuisine’s ability to inspect them all much less supervise closely. We often worked from photographs. I took my own pix of the tables we made until I had quite a portfolio of them. You might start assembling your own portfolio,” Ted suggested.
“Well, you applied the ideas with our different ingredients very nicely,” Duff said. “I like how you built a border around the spiral of prawns with the decorative cabbage.”
“They were planted just for that,” Ted said. “When the mob hits these tables, they’ll ravage them in minutes. That’s why we have backups for the ones we expect to see the heaviest traffic. We don’t want to leave them out once they start looking picked over. We can take the leftovers home if you like, and a lot of them will still be put out in the cafeteria tomorrow. When you get done, roll it into the cold room and you can help me with the dessert table,”
* * *
“We have guests coming from Home or Armstrong who didn’t stay overnight and will be coming in today. Some of the workers who don’t live within walking distance of the ballroom stayed overnight in the barracks to free up the transportation to bring them down,” Mo said.
“And the period portal is all ready?” Heather asked.
“It’s on carts parked down the tunnel to the labs since everybody there has the time off. We’ll see it in place about an hour before showtime,” Mo assured her. “The actors are all ready and rehearsed. They’re looking forward to it.”
“So am I,” Heather said. “I don’t know why we never did this before.”
“Are you going to make a grand entry?” Mo inquired.
“That’s not my style,” Heather said. “I’ll just plant myself at our table in time to meet the early guests.”
* * *
“Wow, it’s full,” Eileen said when they got to the cafeteria. They were so busy there were actual lines to get to the food tables. As they watched, a young man with a harried expression came to refill the cold bar with a cart. He ran back to the kitchen pushing it.
“I think these are all workers for the ball,” Vic said. “Unless this ballroom is huge most of them will be working behind the scenes.”
The Toyos were at a table but all the seats around them were occupied. Kawase inclined his head to acknowledge them.
Vic gave a wave back. “I guess he’s decided we are worthy of being known to him in public,” Vic said.
“I’d give him points for that even if delayed,” Eileen said. “He probably had to overcome a lot of deeply seated Earth Think to do that. His wife seems more flexible.”
They looked around, not seeing any open seats, but hurried over to claim their seats when a couple got up to leave.
“Look at the guys over against the far wall facing us,” Eileen said.
“The red uniforms with all the brass and braid?”
“What do you think the story is there?” Eileen said.
“Maybe they are going to put on some sort of show,” Vic guessed. “If they’re at the ball they should be easy to see in those outfits. I’m going to shut up and eat because there are a couple of people standing at the hot bar looking for seats. It’s not fair to sit and chat.”
“You’re right,” Eileen agreed and gave her attention to her food.
* * *
“The route app in my spex says six to seven minutes and six hundred twenty steps. I’m ready if you are,” Vic said.
“Is that six hundred and twenty of my short people steps or your long-legged steps?”
“I have no idea how to even find out,” Vic admitted. “I’d guess whatever the local average is since I doubt this was written by an Earthie. Over such a short distance how much difference can it make? It’s not like we’ll be hiking for ten hours. I always try to remember to slow down a little for you.”
“You do? I hadn’t noticed. But you’re right. For this, it might be plus or minus fifty paces. Let’s get this show on the road.”
There were a lot more people in the corridors. Not all of them were headed the same way the Foys were. Nor were that many of them dressed for a ball.
“I wonder if the map app has any provision for pedestrian traffic backups and delays,” Eileen joked.
“The routing is in green,” Vic said, checking. “But I don’t see any red or yellow.”
“Wow,” Eileen said when they came to the short tunnel leading into the Grand Audience Hall. “Those are our guys in uniform from the cafeteria.”
“Yeah. There’s no signage saying this is the ball but I think we have the right place.”
The entry was framed in massive timbers with a door of heavy planks swung open into the room beyond. It looked like something you’d expect on a European castle. The gentleman in charge was dressed in a red wool long coat with a stand-up collar, brass buttons, and lines of fancy gold braid in a V pattern down the front. He had on short pants, white hose pulled up almost to his knees, and a soft hat of matching red. The trumpeters lined up behind him merely had tunics without all the fancy piping and were bare-headed. The majordomo had a heavy staff with a steel tip, a fancy engraved globe on top, and white gloves.
When he finished speaking with the couple ahead of them Michael Brightbill turned toward the room beyond and slammed the steel-tipped staff into the floor with a crack that made Vic jump even though he saw the strike coming. The delay in the echo from the room beyond gave him his first clue about just how big it was.
“The Honorable Jon Davis, Head of Home Security, and Detective Theodora Colton!” Brightbill bellowed. He stepped aside and let them through. The trumpeters lifted their straight horns high and blew a short fanfare over them as they entered.
Vic offered their invitation and Brightbill glanced at it but declined it with a small hand gesture. Up close it was apparent he had on clear spex with almost no frame so they didn’t spoil the period look of his costume. He probably didn’t need to examine their invitation closely because he had pix of them on his spex.
“If you proceed directly across the Grand Hall your hosts are receiving their guests at a common table to the right of the main gallery,” Brightbill said. He crashed the staff against the floor again and turned to address the room.
“The Explorers Victor and Eileen Foy!” he announced. They got the same musical welcome with fancy flourishes and good clean notes.
“Explorers huh?” Vic said quietly to Eileen. The fanfare covered his comment to anyone else.
“Sounds more exciting than a horticultural assistant,” Eileen said. “They can upgrade our status and I won’t complain. I notice they weren’t really blowing on the straight horns. It’s hard blowing a range of harmonics on a horn with no keys. I can’t blame them for faking it.”
“Let’s walk slow,” Vic requested. “I want to check this out. Look at the paintings in the dome overhead. I never expected to see anything like this off Earth. And the size of this room with no supporting columns. I’m impressed.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s the intent,” Eileen said. “This fancy compass rose in the terrazzo floor is spectacular too.
“And at three steps to the meter and a hundred and sixty steps to the middle this room is over a hundred meters wide,” Vic said when they were halfway.
“There are scenes up there of guys working in space suits with Earth filling the sky behind them. That has to be about Home from before they moved out here,” Eileen said.
“And what appears to be a tank parked in front of a rover with a long train,” Vic said.
“Speaking of rovers, the gallery we’re approaching looks big enough to drive a rover down it. That appears to be some buffet tables they are setting up in it already.”
“Probably just light appetizers now,” Vic speculated. “There’s hardly anyone here yet.”
They stopped the chatter once they got close to the table.
“Victor, Eileen,” Jeff said standing. “This is our sovereign Heather Anderson,” he said turning towards the one seated lady. “And this is our partner, April Lewis,” he said turning the other way. “The Foys are already working under Bobby getting ready to return to Prairie,” he told Jon and Theo, still standing there.
“I’m jealous,” Theo told them. “I haven’t gotten to stand under a different sun like some of these people. When I get a chance, I want a trip even if it’s just as a tourist.”
“I hope it’s as a tourist,” Jon said. “I don’t want them to steal away my best detective.” There was a crack of the herald’s staff on the floor again. “Why don’t we go get a drink?” he suggested to Theo. “They have somebody else coming already.”
“Lead on,” Theo said and tucked her hand inside Jon’s elbow.
Vic got the impression their relationship was more than supervisor and detective.
“May I call you back to our table if I have some interesting people for you to meet?” Jeff asked them.
“We’re always up to meeting new people,” Vic said.
“Indeed,” Eileen agreed and gave an affirmative nod. “Let's do like the security people and not tie our hosts up,” she suggested.
“Talk to you later,” Vic told them and offered her his arm.
* * *
Back in Northern California Alice watched the Foys enter the party on the satellite phone. She’d gone to her room to watch it privately. Tommy and Pearl had no need to know how her friends were doing. It would just raise more unwelcome questions when Tommy was already posing too many questions that were none of his business. It was good to see they were starting out connected to all the right people up there. Alice checked out some of the other feeds. The food looked awesome and the people interesting. If she ever did have to go there herself, it didn’t look like such a bad place to live.
* * *
“Is this a costume ball?” Kawase asked when he saw the majordomo and trumpeters.
“I’m sure they would have told us, and the people who went in ahead of us weren’t in any sort of costumes,” Atari assured him. “We might pass as having costumes anyway.”
“How would you like to be announced?” Brightbill asked them.
“Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs for Japan Kawase Toyo and Mrs. Atari Toyo.”
Kawase was pleased he got the pronunciation right. Then he was surprised when he repeated it in Japanese. The Toyos were duly tooted in, and pretty much repeated the Foy’s comments walking across the ballroom. Heather rose to meet him and introduced her partners. She didn’t bow at all and after careful consideration, Kawase didn’t either. It didn’t seem to cause any offense.
“I’m curious about the costumes and announcing everyone at the entry. Is this some custom related to your Earth origins? Or is it something historical you wish to bring back?” Kawase asked.
“It’s simply an elaborate joke on my mother,” Heather explained. “She is an artist and not above enjoying good performance art too. Our entry to her studio and living quarters on Home had a video screen on the door where our guests were invited to choose how they would be announced. Most picked the simple voice entry but a few brave souls would pick the Grand Entry. They were treated to a video presentation like the live one you just experienced. When we decided to have a ball, it occurred to us to create in reality the entry my mother worked so hard to produce in a video. I hope it amuses her. We went to a bit of trouble to do it, but the participants like the trumpeters and herald were used as models in her video and delighted to play the same role live.”
“Then those massive timbers and door are just props?” Atari asked.
“They are structural foam with wood grain embossing and coloring. It’s a façade over a modern entry. If you rapped it with your knuckles, it’s solid enough to fool you.”
“Thank you for explaining. I hope she appreciates your humor,” Kawase said.
“The tables out here in the Grand Hall are reserved for our special guests. If you’d like to occupy one, you’ll be able to see when my mother Sylvia Anderson arrives. She will probably be with another artist, Lindsey Pennington. If you’d rather not select your own items from the buffet, we have servers for the tables out here. Come back around if you wish after we’ve greeted everyone.”
“Thank you, and thank you for inviting us,” Kawase said with a nod that cut off just short of being a bow. “My dear?” he said offering an elbow.
“Think of the time and fortune spent to create such a fleeting amusement,” Atari said when they were out of earshot.
“Yes. I suspect some will be impressed by the massive architecture, or what I’m sure will be a lavish meal, but you are correct that all those signs of wealth are surpassed by the production of such a complex performance on a whim.”
“And most will never know, if they don’t ask like you did,” Atari said.
“Indeed, it honestly is just for her mother, since they aren’t sharing the story to impress everyone. I’ll admit, it tickles my sense of humor even without seeing the original.”
“Do you know who that big man was sitting to the side behind April?” Atari asked.
“They didn’t introduce him. Judging by the looks of him, he must be security.”
“That’s very believable,” Atari said. “It kind of creeped me out how still he could sit and only move his eyes.”
“And yet there was nothing relaxed about him,” Kawase said.
The Three were doing their own analysis of the Toyos as they walked away.
“I know men’s fashions run in very slow cycles,” Heather said. “His pinstriped trousers and tailed coat would have been in perfect style as diplomatic wear in the early twentieth century. Do you think his wire framed glasses were a prop to match?”
“I think they were modern spex styled to match,” Jeff said. “I’m pretty sure I saw some telltale flickers of light reflected on his eyes.”
“I was more impressed with her kimono,” April said. “My Japanese classes discussed cultural things. If that was an antique it might properly be in a museum. If it was a reproduction, it was a tasteful pick. The pattern is called the Three Friends of Winter and considered auspicious.”
“For her or for the occasion?” Jeff asked puzzled.
April was surprised by the question. “You know, I think they were deliberately ambiguous.”
“We’ll welcome auspicious,” Heather said. “On the chance some of it may rub off.”
* * *
“How would you like to be announced?” Brightbill asked the three gentlemen.
“I’m Grigoriy Titov, CEO of Kaliningrad Associates. The others are my personal security so they don’t need to be announced.”
Michael took him at his word and announced him alone. Grigory hadn’t arrived close behind the previous guests. He didn’t realize announced meant out loud to the entire assembly. He winced when Brightbill bellowed his name and company. It wasn’t the usual entry for someone used to working in the shadows. What’s worse, he didn’t know it was being streamed out live.
“We invited someone from a company?” Heather asked as Titov crossed the room. She was unaware Brightbill sent a private message to Gunny that the fellow wasn’t on his guest list. Titov didn’t offer his invitation and Michael decided it wasn’t up to him to demand it. He wasn’t security and the two bodyguards looked like trouble.
“No, but we had no response from The Russian Republic and his name sounds Russian. I’d have been aware if he was put up in a suite last night so he had to come in on the shuttle today,” Jeff said.
“Mr. Titov,” Jeff said when he approached the table. “We didn’t recognize you from our guest list. Did the Russian Republic perhaps assign their invitation to you?”
“Indeed, the Foreign Minister gets far more invitations than he and his busy deputies can possibly attend. Rather than disappoint people he has an official, who happens to be my uncle Sergei, assign special ambassadors to represent the republic. Since we’ve done business together before he thought I’d be the logical choice. He’s correct. I’m delighted to be here and meet you.”
“OK, now I recognize your voice,” Jeff said. “I believe the bank CFO Anglicized your name when we arranged a funds transfer with you. I’m happy to put the voice to a face. We were doing that deal by voice with no video.”
“Is this one of the Russian bankers then?” Heather asked Jeff.
“No, he’s Russian mafia,” April said. “But the banks use him to make transfers they don’t have any safe and legal way to do.”
That produced a gasp on which Titov choked. It turned into a fit of coughing and his bodyguards looked mortified.
“No matter,” April went on oblivious to his discomfort. “They did their business on time for the quoted fee and were even polite to deal with. I’d rather do business with them than most Earth governments.”
“Indeed, they’re preferable if only because they don’t keep trying to assassinate me,” Jeff said.
“I have many business interests,” Grigoriy said in a strained voice.
“I’m sure you do,” Jeff agreed. “That’s what makes you so valuable.”
Not knowing what else to say Grigoriy asked, “Earth governments are trying to kill you?” He was regaining his composure but his voice was still off a little. He didn’t comment at all on April’s claim.
“For years,” Jeff assured him. “April too. They haven’t tried it up close and personal with Heather but the Chinese did drop a nuke right on her head. I suppose that counts even if it is rather impersonal.”
“Were you hoping to do some new business with us over the financial crisis happening with Japan and Australia?” April asked.
“I’m afraid I haven’t been following the news in transit,” Grigoriy said. “When I was able to facilitate your currency moves before it was North American dollars in trouble. What’s going on with the Japanese and Australians?”
“It’s complicated. Let us greet everyone and come on back around and we’ll chat. You sound like you could use a good strong drink. Get a table along the wall and someone will offer to bring you something,” Jeff suggested.
Grigoriy looked over his shoulder and two groups were hanging back waiting for them to move on. He wondered if they’d heard April’s statements.
“Of course. We must chat later,” he agreed and moved on.
“I guess he figured we knew those two toughs were his security without being told,” Jeff said after he was gone.
“They’re kind of a waste of money for him,” April said. “Unless he needs to worry about travel to and from his home. I like that he has them dressed decently. Those guys have worked together a long time.”
“How could you tell?” Jeff wondered.
“When they came up to the table, they looked at Gunny and then each other. The guy on the right was the lead and when his junior lifted an eyebrow slightly, he gave him an almost imperceivable nod. That meant he was assigned to watching Gunny and the senior man kept doing a general survey of the surroundings for threats. They communicate like an old married couple.”
“Not that that would save their butts,” Heather said.
Gunny made a quiet little snort through his nose without looking their way.
* * *
“Oh my God. I looked at this Ball the Moon queen is holding and who walks in but Grigoriy Titov. They just called out Grigoriy as a member of the brotherhood and a tool of the legitimate banks,” the Foreign Minister said. “He got his hands on our invitation.”
“They didn’t kick him out or try to distance themselves from him?” his deputy asked.
“Worse. They heaped praise on him for keeping their contracts faithfully and being pleasant with which to do business in contrast to Earth governments. Apparently, nobody told him those crazy people are streaming it out live from six different cameras.”
“Did you record it? Can you scroll back and show me that?”
“No. I didn’t see the need. However, this will be archived, so after the affair it can be downloaded just like when that girl holds her court of justice. Anybody else in the world who isn’t an idiot or has a twelve-year-old relative to show them how to get around the firewalls will be able to see it too. I know lots of agencies and heads of government watch their shenanigans who would never acknowledge them officially. It is fascinating.”
“They have to be idiots to stream it out live,” his deputy decided.
“Well, they don’t have any audio but our intelligence people got me a new lip-reading program that’s viral on the underweb. It only works for English and it’s taking them forever to get it ported to Russian, but that’s what they speak up there.”
“Good God, what did Grigoriy do?” the deputy asked.
“What could he do? Say he wasn’t Bratva in the face of his host acknowledging they’ve done business? Say, ‘Oh no, we too break our word and steal your money?’ He claimed many interests and the damn Spacer boy just pleasantly agreed with him. Grigoriy looked like he swallowed a bug and his bodyguards wanted to die on the spot.”
“It’s too bad that couldn’t be arranged. I have an idea who is responsible for this but I’ll find out for sure.”
“No need. He already admitted his uncle, Sergei sent him. If we take any action against them or issue an official denial, it simply validates what their hosts said in most people’s minds. It just fans the flames of interest instead of letting it grow old and fall out of public awareness. I won’t make that stupid error.”
* * *
Irwin Hall arrived and was announced. He was dressed very conservatively and walked across the vast floor without a glance at the ceiling or decorative floor, He had a serious expression but that wasn’t anything unusual.
“May I speak business with you three or is that rude at such a social occasion?”
“Speak,” Heather said since it was her party. “If we let a good deal get away, we’d never forgive ourselves.”
“Is Eddie Persico here yet?” Irwin looked along the wall for him.
“Not yet. He is invited,” Heather confirmed.
“Well, when he comes in you can ask him to confirm this and any details you want to know. He has a group that wants to buy a starship under construction. The owners got caught holding a lot of their funds in Japanese bonds. He and his partners are eight hundred million short of buying it. If I can’t cover that, do you want a chunk of it?”
“Eddie told me he was going to do that,” April said. “I didn’t think it would happen so soon. I trust Eddie’s business sense and if he gets in any trouble, he has a lot of other assets he could liquidate before coming back to us. I figure this deal has to be closed quickly so he can’t raise cash by that route?” she asked Irwin.
“Probably. He’d have been happier to finalize it yesterday,” Irwin said.
“What do you think?” April asked her partners.
“I’d go for it if he’ll reveal the technical specs of his ship as part of the loan,” Jeff said.
That left Heather and he looked at her.
“If Eddie wants to do it then it will make money. If he wants landing rights on my field or to flag his vessel with Central, he can have that. It’s up to him to decide whether that is a protection or makes him a target,” Heather said.
April just nodded in agreement.
“Thanks, we can tell him when he shows up. He’ll relax and enjoy the party a lot more if it’s off his mind.” Jeff said.
Eric Pennington and Jenifer Wilson arrived and were announced as Irwin left.
“I’m surprised Eric didn’t use the occasion to have a business mentioned,” April said as the young couple strolled across the room.
“I think he has other business on his mind,” Heather said.
“Lovely, isn’t she?” April agreed.
“And I don’t think she’s a bit intimidated by the surroundings or people.”
“Yes, she’s very poised for her age. Keep that in mind if you ever get a chance to recruit her,” April said. She didn’t see any need to mention she’d gifted Jenifer her dress.
Eric wasn’t too proud to be seen craning his neck to take in all the art.
“Hi guys,” Eric said all enthused. “I saw Lindsey’s drawings for this room but it’s really neat to see them finished in color on the ceiling. I think you’ve all met Jenifer as a courier, haven’t you?”
“All three of us were on the shuttle when Jenifer’s family came to Home,” Jeff said.
“Really? I didn’t know that,” Eric said and looked at his fiancée in surprise. “I’m seriously thinking of coming to the Moon to live instead of Home. It’s so expensive on Home and I’d be by my dad here. Is that possible? Is anybody renting out cubic?”
“Most of the residents work for me or for one of the family groups who bought real estate from me,” Heather told him. “Their living quarters are supplied as part of their pay. We all work long hours and I suspect you’d want to continue to manage the several businesses you own. I can’t see you working a local job and having time to run your own business interests too. I’d also warn you that your dad has very little time free that he could use to socialize with you. There are going to be apartments for rent in another six months or a year. The Obarzaneks are tunneling to build them right now. They already have their living quarters moved down to this depth where most of our facilities are. The road grid at this depth connects them already and will be one of the largest at any level. If you want to ask about renting call Lidia Obarzanek,” Heather advised him.
“Or you might consider leasing one of the rooms we built for the guests to this Ball,” April said. “We knew we should have such a hotel instead of depending on Armstrong to house visitors, but I don’t know what our day rate or cost for longer terms will be. We three haven’t asked for a cost analysis to set rates yet. Come back around after we’ve had a chance to greet everyone arriving and we’ll talk about it.”
“OK, I will,” Eric agreed. It was more complicated than he’d anticipated.
“You know what you might offer them?” April told Heather as they departed. “Hire Jenifer as manager for the hotel and give them a suite as part of her wages. He’d be free to run his own companies and she wouldn’t be gone away long hours to a distant job.”
“I like that,” Heather said. “We just need some numbers on what we can offer her.”
“Did you notice he was armed?” Jeff asked.
“Yes, but he wasn’t obnoxious about it,” April said. “I did see grips when he moved.”
“Blame it on me if you want,” Heather said. “I did invite them to a very adult affair. It would be reasonable for him to conclude he has adult status here.”
“I consider him adult and just awaiting public formalities to be one on Home,” April said.
* * *
“Oh my. I think the Obarzaneks brought everybody,” Heather said. “No wonder Michael didn’t try to name them all. They have a few teenagers old enough to watch the babies. Otherwise, I think they brought the whole clan.”
“Is that grandpa Obarzanek?” April asked. “He finally got life extension therapy. He was in his nineties and I never thought he’d look this good again even with all the latest treatments.”
“That long black coat and fur hat must be formal wear for him,” Jeff said, “He does look good. He carries himself straight again.”
“That’s a European style of Jewish dress,” April said. “I don’t know much about it; not even how old it is or if they still dress like that on Earth.”
The old man spoke to her and made his daughter, Frymeta, step ahead to deal with their hosts. His granddaughters, Yetta and Laja, each stayed back and took station on each of his elbows. Not to support him. He projected a powerful masculinity once again.
Without discussing it they all stood when the group stopped. Grandpa Obarzanek clearly understood it was for him, not his daughter because he gave them a regal nod.
“Thank you for inviting us,” Frymeta said as they sat back down. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had any festive occasion outside the family.”
“I’ve been told by my people I need to balance out work with a little recreation,” Heather admitted. “No few of them are lobbying me to make it an annual event.”
“If my vote counts for anything that’s an excellent idea,” Frymeta said. “You have people from too many backgrounds to favor one group over another. Every day would be somebody’s holiday. Better to start your own traditions.”
“I’m strongly leaning that way,” Heather told her.
Grandpa Obarzanek looked pleased and gave Heather an affirming nod.
“Come along. They have other guests arriving,” he said and turned away.
“I wish I could clone them,” Heather said as they headed down the gallery. “That family is responsible for almost a quarter of Central’s public economic activity.
“I don’t think Grandpa being rejuvenated will slow them down,” April said. “I’d expect he’ll be an asset now. Did you hear his voice now? He’s very impressive. He might be a little shy in public after such a long absence. I think that’s why he put Frymeta forward.”
“Do you know his name?” Jeff asked. “It seems silly to just keep calling him Grandpa Obarzanek if he’s going to be a force in their family again. It doesn’t seem respectful.”
“Nobody ever told me,” April said.
“Same here,” Heather said, “but you know what to do.”
“Put Chen on it!” they said in unison.
As the Obarzaneks left Heather’s housekeeper, Amy, arrived with a cart and helper from the kitchen.
“If I waited for you to request it, you’d starve to death,” she said gruffly.
“I didn’t know you were working,” Heather said. “I gave you the day off.”
“Everybody is too scared of you to tell you to eat,” Amy said. “I don’t consider taking care of you a part-time job.”
She unloaded a couple of carafes of coffee, a plate of dainty sandwiches piled in a pyramid, antipasto, insulated bowls of cold salads, and iced prawns. It was a mini-buffet.
“These are your appetizers. I’ll be back with some serious food and wine in an hour.”
“Thank you,” Heather called to her back as she left abruptly. That got a wave of her hand without looking back.
* * *
Eric got a drink, which was another unaccustomed adult thing. He tried whisky and found it too strong. The bartender suggested a pale slightly sweet wine and that was much better. Jenifer surprised him by asking for a mixed drink by name and the bartender knew exactly what she wanted. It had several ingredients and took a minute to mix.
“Now, let’s find a good table and ask to join them,” Jenifer said. “If it’s not the last two chairs that would be ideal.”
They went by a table with a bunch of ship owners. They appeared to be in an animated conversation over something and didn’t even glance up.
“I don’t want to sit and listen to some controversy I probably won’t even understand,” Jenifer said when they were past their hearing.
Another table had Edwardo Muños, Mr. Larkin, and Dave the shipbuilder. They were looking around more than talking and all smiled and nodded. Jenifer knew all three to be influential and turned the charm on.
“May we join you?” Jenifer asked sweetly. The chances the three older men would chase away a pretty young woman asking to sit with them nicely were very low.
“Take the two seats together,” Muños invited with a wave. “Have you gotten anything to eat? The cold bar up there is fantastic. I recommend it.”
“Relax and I’ll go get us something, Honey,” Jenifer told Eric.
“Oh my. You’ve got a keeper there,” Larkin said watching her walk away.
“Indeed, she’s my right hand in business and I intend to marry her when I’m legally able,” Eric said. “I hope you gentlemen will vote our majority when it comes up.”
“You’ve always taken care of me when I needed courier services,” Larkin said. “I’d be happy to return the favor.”
“How are you connected to the three there, that you got invited?” Dave asked. “Most of these folks seem to be Centralists.
“They all use courier services. I’ve always tried to take care of their pickups and deliveries myself so they all know me,” Eric said. “I’m concerned about their security too much to send a random employee to them. An innocent slip of the tongue can reveal too much of their business.”
“Who’s minding the store while you’re away?” Dave asked.
“Mainly Jenifer’s brother, Ian. He’s quite capable. In fact, I’m looking at moving to the Moon and I’d leave him running the Home operation. I might sell it to him, or if he wants, franchise it to him for a percentage of his take. It’s nice to keep it in the family.”
“Where’s your wife?” Eric asked Dave, looking about.
“She went off with Muños’ gal to the ladies’ information center. It’ll take a while to get them up to speed if they run into friends there and a half hour to check their makeup.”
“I was told you are involved with Singh’s bank,” Muños said, curious.
“A minor service,” Eric waved it away as insignificant. “I invented the bits and am still printing them for him for a small royalty.”
“I thought you were a partner with that Hawaiian woman in her lottery,” Larkin said.
“That was originally April’s idea. She said she didn’t have time for it and gave it to Diana to develop for a couple of percent cut. I happened to be there and she needed somebody to print stuff up and develop their authentication system. I had a half kilo of cash in my pocket and begged to buy in. So, I’m a very minor partner. I wish I’d grabbed a bigger part of that one right then. Later she didn’t need any more investors.”
Jenifer returned with a plate looking excited.
“I found your dad over in the next alcove and he’d like to visit. Can you come?”
“Excuse me, please,” Eric said. “I haven’t seen my dad in months.”
“Perfectly understandable,” Munos said. “Give him our regards.”
Muños looked slowly at each of his companions in turn with a wry smile. “Do any of you carry a half kilo in your pockets?” he asked. “Just in case you need a buy-in?”
“That kid has got his fingers in everything doesn’t he?” Dave asked.
“I didn’t even get to ask him about the postage stamp thing,” Larkin said.
“I hadn’t even heard about that one,” Dave said. “All that, and a pretty girl too. I hope he has the best gene mods for sleep, because I don’t see how he finds time to sleep.”
* * *
>CRACK< “The artists Sylvia Anderson and Lindsey Pennington!” Brightbill said.
“Oh good. Here she comes,” Heather said.
There was a little delay as Sylvia hugged Brightbill and all the trumpeters. Then Lindsey took a group photo of them all gathered around Sylvia.
Sylvia was still laughing in delight walking across the room.
“That was wonderful,” she said when she arrived at their table. “When I created that video, I had no idea it would be an entry to this,” She made a grand sweeping gesture to include the Grand Audience Hall and Central. “You’ve done OK for yourself kiddo.”
“I never intended all this, Mom,” Heather said. “I just wanted to sell some real estate.”
“You found yourself riding the tiger,” Sylvia said. “Most people end up tiger chow. You grabbed it by the ears and told it where to go. I must have done something right raising you. You’ve exceeded my expectations.”
Heather didn’t know what to say. Her mom was always stingy with praise. Such a profuse gift of praise was overwhelming.
Sylvia helped herself to a cold prawn and dipped it in some sauce.
“These are quite good,” she told Lindsey, indifferent to Heather’s shock. “Let’s go get some before they’re all gone.”
“Talk to you latter when you are through receiving this mob,” her mom said.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think to tell her it was your idea,” Heather told April.
“Please don’t. You completely wowed her and I don’t want you to undo that by starting to disclaim anything. I’m satisfied from hearing her laughing and knowing it worked. I just had the idea. It took a lot of work by others that I wouldn’t start to know how to do.”
* * *
Pierre Broutin appeared with the last few guests. April was starting to think France would be a no-show. She expected the current Foreign Minister but Broutin was fine. He was retired and her experience was they never told him anything of importance. That meant there would be no disruptive private diplomatic messages. He was likable and she was happy to see him again.
“There’s a mob behind me,” Broutin said. “I’ll go get some sparkling wine and speak with you later when you’ve received everyone.” He enjoyed the little jab.
“Go ahead, Pierre. If you ask the bartender has real champagne. Or some lovely Spanish or Australian imposters,” April teased him right back.
* * *
“This is interesting,” Mike Morse told his buddy Glen. “I can see who knows who and tell a lot by their expressions but I didn’t realize they wouldn’t run audio. They just play whatever music they’re dancing to.”
“Would you want a live mic at your table?” Glen asked.
“No, but I wouldn’t want video muted or not,” Mike said.
Glen looked around carefully and leaned a little closer.
“Let me give you a little program,” he said softly.
“I’m not sure,” Mike said. “Maybe you better tell me a lot more first.”
“I’ve got a lip-reading program off the underweb that blows the old ones out of the water,” Glen said. “If it doesn’t have a hard read on something it gives you up to three possibilities in a little hamburger stack in the text. It gets a good ninety percent right and you don’t have to be a genius to figure out what it missed most of the time. You position a circle on the person you want to follow and works as long as the video stays on that person. It’s horrible for following a live conversation but the recorded video will be available with which you could go back and reconstruct a group conversation if you can see all their faces. If not, you can tell a lot from half of a conversation.”
“I assume it can’t read somebody in profile?” Mike asked.
“It starts degrading about fifty degrees off center but even that’s amazing,” Glen said.
“That could be handy,” Mike said. He opened an optical port for Glen.
“Oh, English only,” Glen said. “It tries to Anglicize other languages. You’ll know that’s happening if it starts spouting gibberish.”
* * *
“Brightbill tells me on the security link that the stragglers all arrived at once,” Gunny told the three. “He’s going to feed them through faster. The good news is we’re down to the last twenty guests. He and the trumpeters will join us and leave the door open. There are only three invitations that didn’t show up or beg off. Likely they won’t be coming. There’s no more shuttles or traffic from Armstrong scheduled to bring them in.”
When the red-coated entry crew came across the floor everyone applauded them.
“That’s not bad,” Heather said. “It took about an hour to get everyone in. It worked out nicely to give us a chance to eat something before we started dancing or having people return to the table to talk. We didn’t have any more substitutions like the Russian. Tell the DJ to get ready to play different sorts of dance music,” she requested of Gunny.
“What does DJ mean?” Jeff asked.
“That’s an acronym for disk jockey,” Heather explained.
“Oh. Pretty old then. Before memory all going solid state.”
“Even older,” Heather said, “a different sort of disk. I’ll show you sometime.”
“There’s the music change,” Jeff said. “I can dance to that. Do you want to take a turn on the floor to show our guests it’s OK to dance now?”
“I still want to finish up this plate,” Heather said. “Take April around a turn or two.”
When Jeff and April walked out on the floor everyone applauded again. They both waved at the crowd to join them rather than having it announced on the sound system.
“Thank goodness your aunt taught you to dance,” April said.
“And ride a bicycle and make a decent curry,” Jeff said. “I haven’t asked my dad how our relatives are doing. If she didn’t get life extension, I suppose my aunt Brinda would be dead by now. I’ve completely lost track of my family.”
“You have your own family now,” April reminded him.
* * *
When Jeff and April returned to their table, the ice was broken and there were others on the floor dancing. Amy was waiting there to take a drink order.
Kawase came over from his table without Atari and with a drink in his hand.
“May one talk business tonight or is that against local custom?” he inquired of Jeff.
“I show up in the gossip boards one or twice a month because I took one of my ladies to a club. The writers regard me as a fashion accessory to the real interest which is April or Heather, what they wore, and what they had for dinner. That’s pretty much the sum of my social life. Without work I’d have nothing to talk about,” Jeff claimed.
“I too spend very little time on entertainment and the party circuit,” Kawase admitted. “I’m glad I can ask. What do you think of the financial crisis in Japan?”
“It’s a crisis in the entire Far East and will reach out in some degree to every country in the world. China already crashed and hasn’t recovered so this can’t hurt them much. They’re already down about as far as you can go. A lot of the country is back to subsistence farming. At least the areas where fighting doesn’t prevent planting or harvesting. But Australia is going to be ruined. It’s a shame because just as Australia is your biggest trading partner, they are our largest Earth trading nation. We’ll see how much trade we can do in solars. It will be difficult for them to acquire solars and make everything we wish to sell them too expensive. I’m not sure they can legally accept solars.”
“My wife remembers when we lost China as our primary customer,” Kawase said. “Her father was a merchant and the family suffered terribly from that disruption. I was a bit older but totally oblivious to it happening as we had no hardship.”
“Enough people on Home and Central have life extension therapy that their economic collapse and fragmentation is within their living memory as adults,” April said.
“That’s hard to remember. Even though everyone looks middle-aged,” Kawase said. “I have no resentment that you took steps to protect yourselves. Some of my retirement accounts hold Australian dollar-denominated instruments and Japanese bonds. I’d protect us if I could but if I pull those dollars who would take them? It’s too late to try to turn them into goods. We’re just fortunate my government position will shelter us from the sort of hardship her father experienced.”
Jeff and April exchanged a look and April blinked once but shrugged her shoulders to express indifference. Heather carefully ignored it.
“Gunny, do you have someone on tap to be a page and run messages?” Jeff asked
“Yeah, I can have her here in just a couple of minutes.”
“No. Send her to Grigoriy Titov’s table and have her ask him discreetly if he could come by our table,” Jeff requested.
He smiled at Kawase. “We have a friend who may be able to help you recover some value from those holdings. Can you access and move them remotely?”
“Yes, I can. That would be wonderful if it could be done,” Kawase said.
Grigoriy approached being led by an Asian girl of about eight. She nodded at Gunny and departed once Grigoriy was delivered.
“I told her I knew the way,” he said amused, “but she was determined to see me here.”
“It’s a good thing you didn’t resist,” Gunny told him. “I may have failed to make clear to her it was a voluntary escort.”
Grigoriy smiled. Apparently, that was his style of humor too.
“What may I do for you to win my freedom?” he joked.
“Our bank and Irwin Hall’s bank are clearing our Australian dollar holdings. We don’t need your help with that like we did with the North American dollars,” Jeff said. “However, our guest Kawase Toyo here was caught by surprise by these developments far from home. Do you have the means to move some of his dollars to more stable currencies before they deteriorate further? Whatever he can recover of them and a reasonable fee would be appreciated.”
“Kaliningrad Partners will be clearing our own Aussie dollar contracts for a month, I’m sure. We deal in many currencies. Some of those will remain safer than Aussie dollars for some time. If Mr. Toyo can accompany me back to my table, I’ll see he transfers his dollars to our accounts and make sure he gets whatever the exchange is tomorrow at worst. Are you sure you don’t need us to channel some of your dollars?” Grigoriy asked.
“Thank you but no. I just had an offer from another bank to take shares of an eight hundred-million-dollar loan denominated in Australian dollars a few minutes ago. That will clear most of our holdings for both banks. If we turn up short of dollars, I will call you. But I’m a lot pickier than Kawase about what Earth currencies we can use. He can spend them easier than us.”
“It would be my pleasure to help him as a favor. I’m a long lifer just like you. I’m sure we’ll have opportunity to do some serious business again in the fullness of time.”
“No,” April objected. “I’m an officer of the bank. I don’t mind owing favors but there should always be compensation for a contract even if just a token payment. Take this to satisfy me please.”
April tossed and there was a flash of gold. Grigoriy snatched it out of the air. He opened his hand and for just a heartbeat he was nonplussed. It was a substantial gold coin. Something you rarely saw on Earth and certainly never flashed about in public.
“It’s a solar if you haven’t seen one,” April said. “I’m hoping you see a lot more of them if we have to buy Earth goods with them instead of Aussie dollars.”
“I acknowledge our services are contracted,” Grigoriy said very formally.
“Come,” he invited Kawase. “Those dollars are falling by the minute.”
“He didn’t bring his security over with him,” Heather noted.
“Well, Lisa was only told to bring him,” Gunny said with a smirk.
“Thank you for making him take a fee,” Jeff told April. “I was uncomfortable dealing in favors with him and struggling to find a way to express it. You jumped in at just the right spot. I’m just sorry we won’t get to see Kawase’s face when he realizes what he’s dealing with.”
“Oh, that would be amusing. I’ll see if I can get a camera shifted to watch their table,” Gunny volunteered.
Chapter 21
Vic Foy sauntered up with Eileen by his side.
“Nobody seemed to be having a big pow-wow with you at the moment so I thought I’d tell you what a nice party it is. We found a table of the other explorers and are getting to know them. They’re a good crew and after hearing their stories I’m much more confident about working with them.”
Kawase came back but stayed back waiting for the Foys to finish.
“Join us, Kawase,” Jeff invited and waved him forward. “The Foys are going to help us develop a new world we found that’s covered with grass. It’s called Prairie.”
“We made the acquaintance of the Foys in the cafeteria,” Kawase said. “I just came back to tell you Mr. Titov helped me forward my funds to his firm with an economy of time and effort that was impressive. He should have them converted tomorrow. You didn’t want to trade favors with him but please feel I owe you one.”
Vic turned toward him a bit as he stepped up to the table. Whatever else was in Kawase’s mouth died unsaid and he stared at Vic’s bolo tie.
“That is a magnificent gem,” he finally managed to say.
“Thank you. It’s a family heirloom,” Vic told him.
“Then you know its provenance,” Kawase said. “That greatly enhances the value of a piece like that.”
“Only by word of mouth,” Vic said. “Grandpa bought it at a pawn shop for something under a hundred dollars. That would be US dollars at the time. I doubt he bothered to keep a receipt if he got one. It doesn’t matter. It won’t ever be offered for sale.”
“But surely you insure it,” Kawase protested.
“Why? It’s irreplaceable if lost. If I were reimbursed its supposed value, I might hunt for another but it would never be my grandfather’s. That’s what makes it valuable to me. It’s insured by hanging around my neck. It’s a very safe place.”
“I’m glad we hired you,” April said. “I like how you think.”
“It is a different culture here,” Kawase admitted. “We have been told you all avoid Earth Think even though you come from many parts of Earth that one assumes think differently. Have you coined a term yet for the unearthly way you collectively think?”
“I’ve never heard one,” April said. “I suspect people don’t define it or label it because there’s no one approved way to think. It will always be expressed in the negative as rejecting the sort of thinking patterns we scorn. We meet plenty of individual Earthies we like. The Foys fit right in and I think you are the sensible sort who could adapt. It’s easy to like individuals but when a couple of million or billions of them get together their behavior is always different and mostly undesirable.”
“I’m hence forth going to call that Lewis’ Law,” Jeff said. “The next step is to define the conditions and a minimum number at which behavior starts to break down.”
Kawase looked stricken. “My wife has a degree in Sociology. I tease her about it being a soft science but I’m going to run that past her. It sounds disturbingly like the way hard sciences define the behavior of inanimate things. It threatens to define human behavior mathematically. Perhaps in large enough groups, we are as predictable as atoms.”
“I’m sure there are people who could teach us a lot about that but it’s such usefully dangerous information it’s tightly held by those who wield it. It’s the sort of thing that wins elections or sells beer. If everyone was familiar with it then its effectiveness would undoubtedly be diminished. There are books that touch on it but they are so boring it’s difficult to extract anything from them. Perhaps on purpose.”
“A long-dead writer, Isaac Asimov, predicted a mathematically accurate form of Sociology that could predict history,” Heather said. “He never tried to detail how it worked but the concept such a thing might be created isn’t new.”
“We knew you were rebels,” Kawase said. “I’m starting to see why you won.”
“Jeff is our secret weapon,” April said. “His inventions gave us the edge to win our independence.”
“And you are well ahead of everyone with superluminal vessels if you are out there actively exploiting what you’ve found,” Kawase said. “I assume he had a hand in that.”
“Well, we’re not hiding it,” Heather said but didn’t address Jeff’s role. “It doesn’t seem to be considered interesting enough to be on the evening news anywhere for the masses. They’re still babbling on about the aboriginals they found as if they own flying saucers and are a threat to humanity.”
“I don’t mean to disturb you but this project with the Foys and the planet Prairie you mention…”
“Yes?” Jeff prompted him. He seemed reluctant to finish what he started.
“You said you are not hiding it but a great deal of the world, maybe the majority, think you are exaggerating your abilities hoping to intimidate them. That’s not my thought but you should be aware of it.”
“Kawase, it simply doesn’t matter if they believe or not. That’s one of the reasons we gave up expending a great deal of energy trying to keep secrets. We finally figured out we could declare our secrets and nobody believed what we said anyhow,” Jeff said.
“Sometimes you can tell the biggest lies by simply keeping your mouth shut,” April said.
“It’s disturbing to me that you are describing the situation in Japan with fair accuracy,” Kawase said. “You’d never know anyone has been to the stars except for the much more limited efforts by North America and France if you just watch video news.”
“France knows much better,” Heather told him. “See that fellow standing facing us with a champagne flute and the million-dollar nose? Go talk to him when you get a chance and ask him the status of our explorations. He has no subtlety and will confirm everything I’ve told you. Even if his country doesn’t put it on the evening news for the masses.”
“All right,” Kawase agreed. “I’ll tell him you sent me.” He looked puzzled. “Do you by any chance know who the gentleman with the bullneck is, with whom he’s speaking? He looks like he’s from the Pacific sphere of influence but I can’t type him and the dress uniform is completely unfamiliar to me.”
“That’s a uniform of the Tongan Space Marines,” Jeff said, “I’m not familiar with their ranking system, but you may assume it’s a high one. All the high ranking Tongans here are also members of the extended royal family.”
“Tongan’s have Space Marines?” Kamase asked astonished.
“We have a large group of Tongans,” Heather told him. “Military and civilians. They have considerable Central property and are developing it aggressively.”
“Another wonder I never expected,” Kawase admitted.
“When you get tired of being managed, and want life extension that’s denied you, come back. We’ll put you to work,” Heather said. “We’re always short of good people.”
“I didn’t know this was a recruiting scheme,” Kawase tried to joke. Then he couldn’t sustain that mood and said more seriously, “That’s a gracious offer.” He gave a little bow and went back to his table and his wife. Heather wondered what he’d tell his wife.
“Well, that was interesting,” Vic allowed. “Maybe you’ll see him again when he gets some gray hair and crow’s feet. I need to go get another beer but I do have to say I didn’t know you had a resident philosopher,” He gave a nod toward April in case they didn’t know who he meant and turned back towards the buffet tables.
“We’re a little more worthy in Kawase’s eyes than when we started,” Heather said.
Jeff looked puzzled but April said, “The bow.”
“Yep. He stayed ramrod straight when he met us,” Heather reminded them. “That little bow just now was a great thawing.”
“You still haven’t danced with me,” Jeff reminded her.
“Well, you can correct that right now.”
* * *
“Well, you look smug about something,” Atari said.
“Our hosts did us a great favor and introduced me to a Russian fellow who will convert our Australian dollars holding into more stable currencies by tomorrow,” Kawase said. He didn’t mention Pierre Broutin. He wasn’t ready to talk with Atari about that yet.
“This Russian is a banker then?” Atari asked.
“Not exactly. He is an officer of a conglomerate. They have enough cash flow in many currencies to be able to commingle our funds in with other transactions.”
Atari looked sharply at him. “Commingling is an act that is usually disapproved.”
“Indeed, that is why the Russian banks turn to this fellow to help with transactions that might be legally problematic for them.”
Atari pursed her lips. “Are they Yakuza?” she asked bluntly.
“I didn’t inquire too closely,” Kawase said, “Something similar perhaps. It’s all happening in Russia under Russian law that will be no concern of Japan or our legal system. The Spacers have used them for rather massive currency transactions in the past without any repercussions. They were speaking tonight of transactions in hundreds of millions of Australian dollars. Our little accounts will be a rounding error to them. I’m happy to save any value while we have a window to do so.”
“What is their… vig I believe is the correct term.”
“Vigorish, yes. Well, Mr. Titov was willing to do it as a favor for this Triad but April refused to be obligated to him and tossed him a solar coin as a token payment.”
“Token? It’s probably worth more than our savings,” Atari said. “So, we owe the Spacers a favor? I suppose that’s much better than Titov.”
“Indeed, I’m quite comfortable with them.”
Sometimes Kawase wished his wife wasn’t quite so perceptive or well informed. He couldn’t get away with much at all.
“So, stable currencies but not yen?” Atari asked.
“I’m sorry to say the yen may not be in that stable group very quickly. It was mentioned as a currency they wish to spend down and limit their exposure. I was asked my preference of several and expressed a fondness for Indian rupees as first choice or South African rand. The Icelandic króna does well but they export little to use it unless one wanted to play the tourist there.”
Atari made a face. She had bad memories of that part of the world.
“It’s much nicer than Greenland. If anything, the names should be reversed. Look it up,” he said defensively.
“I consider South Africa a horrible country too,” Atari objected.
“I wouldn’t want to live there or India. I wouldn’t want to live anywhere but Japan. All I care about is that they have been successful in keeping the value of the rand quite high against other currencies. Both India and South Africa produce many things worth buying if you hold their money.”
“Does that mean we don’t have to stay over tomorrow?” she asked.
“Yes, we no longer have any reason to stay.”
“Good. I have a sudden desire to be home and away from all this strangeness.”
* * *
“It’s winding down. I think we’ve lost about half of the mob staggering off to bed. This is the first real break we’ve had from people coming up to talk to us. Are we going to announce it’s closing time and kick the stragglers out?” April asked.
“What a terrible thing that would be to do,” Heather said. “We’ll just inform the kitchens to cut off the refills, pack up the bar, and let it die whenever they are exhausted.”
“Yeah, let’s retreat to your quarters,” Jeff said getting up. He grabbed the last bottle of champagne that was half full. The ladies joined him.
They held their silence past the depleted buffet tables and picked the conversation back up once they had a door closed behind them. Thankfully, nobody delayed them.
“I’ve never felt entirely adult even after founding a kingdom, waging war, and sitting in the judgment seat in my court. Oddly enough, throwing a big party feels like the most adult thing I’ve ever done.”
“Does that mean you’ll make it an annual event?” April asked.
“Yes, it was well worth doing. Mo will be delighted. He lobbied hard for it.”
Jeff emptied the rescued champagne into the wrong sort of glasses.
“You finally impressed your mother. I could tell that was a huge thing,” April said.
“Yes, and I have hope someday she’ll even be content with herself. She has always been her biggest critic.”
“It amazes me how far we’ve come. I can think of so many instances where one small change would have taken everything off in a direction that would eliminate us from reaching the present,” April said. “We’ve just gone from one crisis to another and that has worked against us taking the long view.”
“I think I understand but give me an example,” Heather said.
“If I hadn’t met that North American spy in the corridor on Home, I’d have never got to know Jon or be his ally. According to Jon, I precipitated his leaving early so who knows what else he would have done? Then, if I hadn’t been involved with you to build me a scanner, we’d have never called on Jon to tell us what to do after Jeff’s place was burglarized by that agent.
“The Happy would have never been built and certainly never armed. We might easily have lost the space battle with the North American and Chinese ships. Jeff’s dad might never have been rescued from his conference. Jeff’s mom would never have been rescued. All the advanced tech based on her work would never have been available. You’d have never started Central.
“We’d have never forced North America to back off and later China. The whole history of Earth would have been different with a whole, strong China.
“If we hadn’t needed to get further from Earth because of them constantly sniping at us the flu would have wiped out our heavily gene-modified population. The extra distance gave us just enough of a delay to shut the door on the infected.
“It goes on and on like that. If I hadn’t insisted Jeff aim at Centauri on what he considered a mock test of his drive we’d be lost in space or some undefined condition.”
“I agree with all those things but I think we are now in a position where we aren’t as susceptible to one small change wiping out everything we’ve built,” Heather said.
“I agree with Sylvia,” Jeff said. “We’ve avoided all those disasters and done very well. Even if she just credited you. We know it was a joint effort. We just need to keep doing it. He picked up his glass with a just a sip of champagne left and raised it.
“Here’s to the future,” he said.
They both tapped their glasses to his though Heather’s was empty and she faked taking a sip.
“I agree with all of that,” Heather said. “That’s why for the first time I feel it’s safe and timely to expand our family. We’re going to own worlds and I don’t want to find them just to pass them on to strangers. We still could be assassinated but even then, we can leave behind a legacy in children if we don’t keep putting it off as inconvenient at the moment. When will there ever be nothing else to do? If we raise them well, they’d carry on something at least resembling what we’ve built. I’d never have children intending to hand them off to nannies and tutors to raise.”
“I’ve been slowly coming around to the same thinking,” April said. “I guess having children is the ultimate aspect of acting with the long view in mind. Indeed, you might consider that our next big project. By the time they are old enough we’ll have worlds to administer and ships for them to fly.”
“Is anybody going to ask what I think of this?” Jeff asked.
“You get two choices, yes or no,” Heather said.
“Of course, it’s yes, but there’s more to consider than yes or no,” Jeff insisted. “We need to agree on gene mods. Since you are talking about safety and contingencies, I’d hate to see both of you pregnant at the same time. There are a few months where it is very limiting physically and it’s mood-altering. I’m not sure Heather should hold court in that condition. I’m pretty sure we don’t have an obstetric specialist on staff or any other specialist for that matter. Just a GP and an assistant. I want one here if only for the time you both are at risk. Once we talk about it for a while, I’m sure we’ll think of other problems to address.”
“Jeff, we might not stop at one apiece and we might well space them out,” April said. “So having a specialist in residence can’t be a temporary measure.”
“Oh.”
“As far as having mood alterations. You might let Jeff sit in high judgment for a few weeks,” April suggested.
“Horrors, no. He’d be perfectly logical. If I were entirely logical, I’d have shot a half dozen dead right where they stood. You need to sound logical in explaining your judgment but give an emotionally satisfying ruling. That may mean letting somebody walk who you know is going to cause trouble again. At least with exile, I can make that happen somewhere else. It’s selfish and unkind to wherever I’m sending them, but it avoids scaring my people so badly they avoid my justice or start making their own.”
“Probably true,” Jeff admitted. “I’m still learning social things.”
“I can solve who goes first without any hard feelings,” April said. “Call front or back. Winner goes first.” She pulled a solar and flipped it, caught spinning it in the air, and slapped it on the back of her other hand in one motion.
“Front, Home-side,” Heather said.
April lifted her hand. Home side it was.
“OK, I’ll go have my implant deactivated tomorrow,” Heather said. “We made my mother happy with the entry show and ball. Hopefully she’ll be happy with this decision too. This will make the other impossible-to-please person in my life happy.”
“Who’s that?” Jeff asked confused.
“My housekeeper, Amy.”
* * *
Amy was uncharacteristically happy the next morning. Not that she knew their intentions yet. She could barely restrain herself from being effusive with the three late risers. Breakfast was waiting for them to recover from staying up very late, consuming more than their accustomed alcohol, and the general fatigue from hours of stressful social interaction. It was noted on her kitchen whiteboard that they now had one day of record without oatmeal as a positive.
“If everybody feels like me today, I’m happy most of them have the day off to recover,” Heather said. “I doubt much would get done and I’m scared it would be error riddled.”
“Too much champagne,” Jeff complained. “You think it’s safer than hard liquor, then you try to stand up and you can’t feel your feet.” He seemed the most affected.
“Have they cleared the hall and barred the doors so they can’t get back in?” April asked. “There were still a few partying on when we left.”
“Mo informs me a few were carried off by security early this morning who couldn’t navigate back to their quarters under their own power,” Amy commented.
“He wasn’t supposed to have to work,” Heather objected.
“I think he called this morning just to make sure I was able to report for work and take care of you,” Amy said. “He’s a compulsive worker. It’s been years since the days of my youth and having too much fun. I don’t do that anymore. I do recommend a mimosa for you,” she directed to Jeff. “Hair of the dog was the expression though I have no idea what that means. It does seem to ease the discomfort.”
“I suspect it eases the symptoms but prolongs them,” Jeff said. “Just plain orange juice for me, please. I wonder if Mr. Titov is functioning to process Kawase’s currency conversion? He and his guards were knocking down chilled vodka like it was mineral water.”
“I’m curious why you decided to help him,” April said. “It’s not enough money to be worried about. We could have made him whole ourselves. But what advantage is there in helping him? Or were you just taking pity on him?”
“He and a lot of others may blame us for dumping Australian dollars. If we didn’t do it somebody else would but we’ll get the blame for starting the crash. It will have a negative impact on all their trading partners but especially Japan. He is from the Ministry of Foreign Relations and Trade. So maybe we will have one voice in the agency that is kindly disposed to us. If I’d tried to cover his losses ourselves, he’d have refused because it might look like a plain old bribe. Introducing him to a third party looks much better. You gave me an OK last night pretty quickly. Why did you agree if you had no idea of my thinking?”
“Oh, that’s easy to explain. I wanted to help them because I like Atari.”
“You might have just given the solar to her,” Jeff said. “Chances are that would cover any of their holdings.”
“I don’t know,” April said. “He’s pretty high up in their government service and has worked at that his whole life. He might be worth more than you think. That would have looked as bad as you converting their holdings. Worse. It would have labeled their savings as insignificant pocket change and look sneaky to go around him. She’d have been offended. I’m not even sure it would be legal for her to possess a solar.”
“If they are going to trade with us at all, they better make up their mind if solars are legal to hold or not,” Jeff said. “We’re simply not going to deal in most of the Asian currencies any time soon. It looks like it will be a race to the bottom. They’ve spent decades destroying their currencies and there’s nothing we can do about it even if we wanted to.”
“Watch,” April said. “I expect them to do many of the things that were done before when one Earth currency would collapse against another Earth currency. They will pass laws against us, with the superior money, buying their land or companies. They will restrict residence and limit how much money their people can convert. It won’t occur to them that we don’t want to own things that we’d have go down there to manage. Few Spacers would agree to live in even the most developed of Earth countries. Trying to manage them remotely is absurd. Worst of all, any Earthside assets could be nationalized on some politician’s whim.”
“You don’t have to convince me,” Jeff agreed. “I’m still not comfortable to visit your house in Hawaii and they’re as friendly to us as anybody on Earth except maybe Tonga. I’ll hang on to the house I bought on the other side of Diana’s place but I’m still not comfortable to ask anybody to be a consul there. We don’t do enough business with Hawaii to make it worth hiring a local.”
“Yeah, how they treated Nick convinced me to reset my clock for visiting. I was just starting to get comfortable with the idea before they tried to kill him,” April said.
“I’m not seeing anybody with life extension suddenly dying. It gives me courage to take a longer view on things. We’ll see how things look for a Hawaiian visit in a few decades.” Jeff said.
“Oasis is pretty and I feel safe there,” April said. “We may want to vacation on our exoplanets instead of Earth.”
“I wouldn’t mind a nice cabin on a rise upwind of an oasis,” Jeff said.
“But you wouldn’t see the trees releasing their bubbles from there,” April protested.
“Go watch it from a vehicle or set up a disposable pavilion of some sort. Can you imagine trying to clean all the sticky bubbles off your windows downwind?”
“Oh, you have a point there,” April admitted.
“I’m not going to try to accomplish anything today,” Heather announced. “So, I’m going back to bed.”
April and Jeff looked at each other. April took the initiative. “Sounds good to me.”
* * *
In California, Tommy looked sullen all through dinner. He usually had some story to tell about his postal work. Pearl, sensitive to his mood, kept a cautious silence.
“I was looking at the new public records section at the County offices,” Tommy said.
“Uh huh,” Alice acknowledged, not knowing where he was going.
“You are listed as the owner of this ranch, bought from Victor Foy for one dollar Texan and other valuable considerations,” Tommy said skeptically.
“As you said it’s a matter of public record,” Alice said with an elaborate slow shrug. “I just don’t see why you care or what your interest is.”
“I’m trying to figure the mystery out because suddenly, the Foys had money to go up to Home and I understand that’s a very expensive place to live. Did you guys hit a motherlode of gold up there and clean it out? Because I can’t find any big concentration of gold anywhere up there. What little we get panning or high banking is hard won. Unless you have another site you’re not sharing. You don’t go mining with us as often as you did with the Foys.”
“Tommy! I can’t believe you’d ask such personal stuff,” Pearl objected. “How is that any of our business?”
“It’s our business because I suspect she’s gotten an awful lot of money from somewhere. She agreed to our wages without batting an eye. At the time I thought she was just a lousy negotiator. Now I’m thinking she could have been paying us much more and never missed it. I don’t recall asking you to chime in on this either.”
“You get paid what the job is worth,” Alice said. “Not what I’m able. You told me what it’s worth in your own eyes. How much I can pay and if it’s a strain to meet it doesn’t matter. That’s not how it works. If you don’t like the extra money on top of your postal wages, you’re welcome to move back in with your father-in-law. I have no idea if he demands more of you than me but I’m sure he’d be happy to have any help back at all.”
“I don’t think so. He’s not rich. But I’m afraid you’re not treating us fairly.”
“You sound like you feel entitled,” Alice said. “I don’t know what gives you the idea that will fly here but the door is open any time you want to quit. I don’t intend to keep hearing about this. I have the option to let you go just like you have the right to quit.”
“And run this big place all yourself?” Tommy asked. “We can’t use this much land effectively with three of us. Talk about stuff that won’t fly. I’m not walking away and having everybody say I left you in the lurch.”
That ended the conversation. Alice let it die rather than object he wasn’t living and working here as an act of charity. That irritated her but there wasn’t any benefit to saying more now. There was no arguing against him feeling slighted. That had nothing to do with reason or logic. Alice went to bed early unnerved by the lingering anger still showing in Tommy’s expression. She locked her door for the first time in memory. As messed up as his thinking was, he might think her removal would somehow open the door to them taking possession of the ranch by just staying here. The new Texan authorities weren’t going to accept the squatting people used to do.
She’d grown quite a bit in the last couple of months. Alice got out the nine-millimeter she’d never carried before and checked how it felt in her hand. It was still a little big for her but she put away the little twenty-two she normally carried and left the big pistol on her nightstand with a round chambered and the hammer back. The twenty-two was fine if you could count on perfect shot placement but that might not be possible in the night. If she had to use it, she wanted to knock down whatever she shot decisively. She went to sleep a little easier for having it in reach.
* * *
That evening, with her head finally clear, April checked for messages. Eddie left a long message to all three of them marked as low priority. That was a rarity and genuine courtesy since he knew they would be wrung out from yesterday.
“Thank you for your part in getting my loan approved by Irwin. The Australian banks holding the loans for the ship under construction were happy to be paid in Australian dollars which were the original terms. Truth is, they’ve gotten such low-ball predatory offers that they are glad to get anything before the payment will only be enough buy a nice used ground car.
“Now that they are satisfied, we intend to finish the construction using solars on very favorable terms. The suppliers have formed a holding company heavy on the producers of electronic items which will be licensed to receive gold as an industrial material. We’ll be paying for the finishing monthly at the industrial market spot price the day before payment. I expect in the end we may pay closer to two percent of the remaining value at today’s exchange rather than ten percent if the depreciation of the Aussie dollar proceeds as I expect.
“Two of our partners are fans of classic cartoons and you may expect our explorer will be registered as the explorer Snoopy when finished out.
“There is serious money to be made out there but I’d prefer to work with you than under the Earth commission. If that avenue of investment opens up, I’d still work with you. This venture would not preclude that. I’d do a long-range liquidation of other assets to invest in your superior exploration abilities.
“If, in your explorations, you find exploitable resources inferior to those you wish to develop for yourselves, our partnership would be willing to discuss a licensing arrangement for the information about their quality and location. This could be an entirely confidential arrangement and a nice little side income for you.
“I hope we both do well and stand ready to cooperate if an opportunity presents itself.”
Eddie Persico
“Well, that’s nicely said and a good offer from Eddie when you have time to read it,” April told her partners. “He found an interesting loophole to pay them in gold.”
“What’s the basic offer? Jeff asked.
“If we have multiple discoveries of some resource and wish to reveal the inferior one to them, they’ll pay royalties for it.”
“I can see that happening,” Jeff said. “We can get into brown dwarf systems that are too risky for them to attempt the jump. We might find metal resources in other easier-to-enter systems. Why not make a little something off of them?”
“I’d rather see Eddie benefit from such discoveries than bypass them and let others eventually find them,” Heather said.
“So, you do approve of Eddie?” Jeff asked.
“In a general way and to do business with, yes. But to risk our technologies to his security arrangements, no. I’d have to know and approve of all his partners and contractors,” Heather said. “That’s not going to happen.”
“We’ll have to let all our explorers know we want a full report of all assets found and not to discard and fail to report sources inferior to ones they already know we possess,” Heather said. “I’m not sure how the Earthies intend to mark claims. If they intend to follow our custom and drop a squawk box in claimed systems like we did in Centauri, we can even load a recording for him and drop a claim.”
“That will raise a few questions if they file claims for star systems well outside the areas they’ve been known to explore,” April said.
“I doubt any of these explorers are going to publish an itinerary of systems visited,” Heather said. “Neither before or after their voyages. I suspect the majority of stars will have no claims. You watch, they’re going to make it expensive enough to file that explorers won’t just claim every system visited. People will just have to wonder how far they’ve ranged and what their capabilities are. They aren’t obligated to reveal all. People may suspect they got help with their drive tech from us. That’s fine to muddy the waters.”
“Then you should reply to Eddie and tell him that’s acceptable and suggest leaving claim markers for him,” April suggested.
“No dear. You’re closer to Eddie than we two. Go ahead and tell him yourself.”
Chapter 22
What’s Happening – Your Say
By: Silent Observer
Heather Anderson’s big bash on the Moon was an interesting mix of state affair and informal party. The state side of the affair didn’t have any one formal guest who was honored and celebrated. Rather there were a half dozen Earthie allies and spouses invited. The only red carpet treatment afforded them over other guests was being given special tables along the perimeter of the ballroom.
The host triad sat directly across from the entry and held audience after greeting each arriving guest or group.
That ball room properly known as her Grand Audience Hall isn’t used for actual audiences and Anderson dispenses justice weekly from a much cozier room handier to her private residence. The room was built to impress and it succeeds at that in spades. The high domed ceiling is covered in fine art celebrating Spacer history. The arches for the three galleries aligned on the compass points laid in the floor are worthy of the most impressive Earth cathedrals and lined with alcoves that can be used for separate activities.
The central hall in each gallery is wide enough to pass rover traffic and was used to set up abundant buffets that highlighted locally produced foods. The invited parties could then sort out how and with whom they wished to be seated in the nearby alcoves. The seating and table furnishings were also of local manufacture. Unlike the architecture which mimicked Earthly proportions. The seats were minimalist style, taking advantage of the lunar gravity. Earth guests were cautious in sitting the first time as the seating looked fragile compared to Earthly furniture.
As guests arrived and were announced, very loudly and with literal fanfare. There was quiet mood music playing. Once all the guests arrived the uniformed crew passing them through also entered to applause for the show they put on. I’m told this display and the façade on the entry was a one-of-a-kind special event with special meaning for the sovereign’s mother.
Soon after, a DJ began playing dance music. The sovereign’s peers Jeffery Singh and April Lewis broke the ice with a slow number gesturing for the other guests to join them.
The playlist ran very eclectic, including both ballroom dance and square dance requested by Victor Foy. A surprising number of guests knew that style. Another treat was three Russian gentlemen requesting music appropriate to kozachok dancing. They performed the very athletic folk dance with amazing balance and high leaps despite the unfamiliar gravity and the volume of vodka they were seen consuming.
The food was not only good and abundant but displayed in the decorative style of ocean cruise ships. Any suggestion the Moon nation depends on Earth for foodstuffs was forever debunked. They at most import such luxuries as spices and tree fruits.
The hosts quietly departed quite late when a half crowd remained and let them party on as long as they had the energy to do so.
Some will undoubtedly complain this followed no format for a formal state event. They followed their own desires and, in the end, everyone had fun. From personal experience with both styles, I count this ball a thorough success.
April wondered if the Silent Observer byline was calculated to make her remember the writer Keen Observer. Perhaps the writer didn’t know she was aware of who that was and couldn’t be fooled into attributing this article to her. There were bridge players on Home but the expression in spades wasn’t common. Then the writer intimated they’d been to other state functions. The writer was probably Earth-born. That didn’t narrow a search by even half.
The piece was so complimentary April wondered why the writer would want to hide their identity. Then on further thought, she realized not everyone was a fan of Heather or her peers. The writer might not want to be identified by parties hostile to them.
April copied the article to her partners.
* * *
The recently added Deputy Director of Hawaiian Intelligence, Kalani showed the Spacer news site and community board to his boss.
“The article is undoubtedly discomforting to those foolish enough to believe their own propaganda,” Morton said. “I have my own sources for Home and the Moon and they were inside that event. They feed me the straight stuff about the activity up there including the general mood of the electorate. That’s critical because they can vote in their assembly to do anything. Including making war by popular demand.”
His new deputy looked surprised.
“No such source is active in our database,” he objected.
“There are always a few really important sources that I’d never trust to a computer,” Morton informed him. “Not even one supposedly free-standing and never connected to the net. If I ever die unexpectedly, you’ll receive a summary of where to find my hard copy list and critical notes from those agents. In the meantime, if you have need-to-know about any Spacer activity, I’ll keep you informed.”
“Do you share or trade that with other agencies?” Kalani asked.
Morton laughed out loud. “They don’t want to know. If it doesn’t fit their superior’s narrative it’s better not to document it. Possessing such contrary intelligence in a file somewhere would be dangerous for them. If their prejudices blow up on them their masters could use such files to say they were never warned by their agency. Truth is, their people would never present it. They know their bosses don’t want to hear it.”
Kalani nodded his acceptance. What else could he do? He made a mental shift to consider his new boss had more depth than he’d previously considered.
* * *
“When I asked Eddie for the specs of their ship, I never expected a twelve-terabyte file with every detail down to the specs of each screw and fastener. He gave me every drawing including revision histories and the automated order of assembly for the whole ship,” Jeff said.
“But their drive is still junk compared to ours, right?” April asked.
“Yes, but they can put an entire engineering team on one subsystem. We just don’t have the manpower to do that. We have to design something that will work, call it good enough, and move on. That often means plugging in an existing off-the-self design. The fact their drive performs worse and differently makes them shave every gram possible from those systems too. The tech we’ll get from these docs alone might be worth the loan Eddie got.”
“Don’t get all noble and want to forgive his loan,” Heather said. “Eddie can afford it. It’s technically Irwin’s loan anyway.”
“No need to forgive the loan,” Jeff said. “If we feed him a few claim locations that will more than recover his costs.”
Jeff frowned and appeared to be thinking hard. That was scary given the things he came up with without any apparent great effort.
“A solar for your thoughts,” April offered.
“Has inflation struck us too?” he joked.
“If Heather dumps all the metals stockpiled from the French mills, we’ll go back to using euromarks for the carbon content,” April warned. “That stays the same even after they hit their expiration date.”
“Fear not, I’m going to squeeze every bit of value I can from our secret stockpiles unless somebody blabs,” Heather fixed them with a gaze that said she didn’t think that would be Mo. The chief suspects assured her they would stay tight-lipped. Rather than repeat her request April flipped Jeff a solar.
“With all these new design details, I think we should start a new explorer. Some things can be retrofitted but they just beg for a clean sheet new construction to take full advantage of them. Heather willing,” he added.
“I’m already quietly selling as much gold as that market will bear to governments and central banks at a slightly discounted cost,” Heather said. “Even though that is through third parties I suspect most of them can figure out the source. And those agents take a cut too of course. In an economic crash like is happening now, I doubt they’ll keep stockpiling gold. The countries that might still buy make their payments in currencies that are harder to convert to something useful. There just isn’t as much of a market for platinum and those sales would be much more visible. We’re already using 50/50 gold and platinum Sandia metal for our own things like airlock hatch guides, hinges, or bushings that would make an Earthie engineer swoon at the expense. Where can I raise the funds for a new ship?”
“If I get plastic feedstock out of our Titan project, we can insulate our own wire and make such things as belting and upholstery. We have our own sources of copper now. You get even less silver from the French mills than uranium, but more than enough to wire a ship. We also can prioritize our explorers to find silver deposits. Electronics has been our biggest expense after aluminum to build a new ship. If we build the frame almost entirely from abundant titanium, I think we can get the Earth content down to less than ten percent of the total cost. Mostly computers, electronic components, loose ICs, and specialized circuit boards. In time we’re going to need to produce all of that ourselves.
“Titanium is difficult to fabricate,” Heather objected.
“We have perfected sintering tech for meteoric iron,” Jeff said. “We need to do the same for titanium so we can create big pieces on the same fabbers.”
“The Obarzaneks are talking about building a huge fabber on the surface to make pieces for their next elevator stage,” Heather said. “The crazy family wants an elevator the size of a soccer pitch. They said the history of big engineering projects like canals and tunnels has always been regret they weren’t built bigger the first time. They intend to avoid that. I’m sure they would cooperate to learn how to make titanium shapes on it because they are interested in building ships too.”
“You’re not talking about a few months to build a new ship,” April deduced. “Developing new tech for plastics, titanium, and exploring for new sources of things we buy from Earth will take years.”
“Yes, but why are we in a hurry?” Jeff asked. “People with LET aren’t falling over dead unexpectedly. It gives every indication of being far more than cosmetic. So, it appears we have those years. It wasn’t that long ago we expected a ship to take years to build. We’ve been spoiled by rapid prototyping tech.”
“OK, we’re still not taking the long view as much as we need to,” Heather concluded.
“Once we have the tech in place and running the follow-on ships will be faster to build,” April said.”
“If we can produce as much as you project by ourselves, we can raise funds by selling some of the non-precious metals,” Heather admitted. “Maybe even some of the mundane materials like copper if it will pay enough. Having time helps us explore that market. But of course, our explorer crews want more ships right now,”
“Then I propose that they buy them for themselves,” Jeff suggested.
They all had a needed laugh at that.
“If they keep finding viable worlds, and we develop these new technologies, by the time we can make our new ships cheaper and easier they’ll have the funds to own their own ships,” April said. “It wouldn’t hurt to let them know exactly what we plan. If they’ll be reasonable about it, we should get increased cooperation when they can see our mutual efforts are working toward the same goals.”
“Have Jeff tell them,” Heather said. “They’ll have more confidence it’s an attainable goal if they hear it from him than from us.”
“Do it,” April agreed. “Do it before they go on their next loop of exploration.”
* * *
Alice wasn’t expecting a visitor. The cry of “Hello the house,” and a blast on a whistle caught her by surprise. Even more surprising was it was Titus. His voice had changed since he was here last. It was deeper. He was wearing a pistol but not carrying a long gun. That spoke to the risk of bandits being much lower now.
“What brings you here, stranger?” Alice asked from the front door.
“Concern for you, actually. I couriered some things to Mr. Mast. He fed me and chatted. He informed me the Foys have gone to space but you were still living here. There seemed to be a lot more but he clammed up and didn’t want to tell me more. That worried me more than if he’d spoken freely. Are you OK with staying here for a while or will the Foys be selling the place off? I don’t have a house of my own but my little rented flat has room for two if you need a place to stay.”
He suddenly looked embarrassed and grimaced. “That probably sounds so forward but you impressed me and I always intended to come back and get to know you better. Life just… interfered.”
Alice looked over her shoulder. Pearl was in the kitchen. Titus picked up on the fact somebody must be listening.
“I have a couple of small chores to attend to,” Alice said. “Let’s take a walk around the house and see if the barn’s still there.”
Titus raised his eyebrows but complied.
“Yep. Still there,” he joked when they reached the corner.
“We came into some money,” Alice started her story. “How doesn’t matter. It was nothing crooked. Mast knows the story but he doesn’t talk about people’s business. I really appreciate that. The Foys got to go off to space sooner than they planned. We both felt we’d saved each other’s lives on occasion and split the money. I bought the ranch from them and own it free and clear.
“I hired Tommy and Pearl from the next property to the south. They have a kid and were happy to not have to live with her dad anymore. It went well for some weeks but he’s been acting like he should naturally be boss because he’s male. He’s asking questions that are none of his business about my finances and asking for the password to my sat phone for safety. Hah! He figured out we must have gotten some money, more than he thought, and now he feels he didn’t get his fair share. His word, not mine.”
“He's a gimme,” Titus said. “I thought most of those died in the city.”
“I don’t know a lot of history but I bet we had gimmes before inventing cities.”
“You are people-smart,” Titus complimented her. “That’s Tommy the new mailman?” he asked to be sure.
“Yes, that’s why he’s not here now. He’ll be back for supper after work.”
“How worried are you?” Titus asked. “Be honest with me.”
“I started sleeping with my door locked and a nine-millimeter on the nightstand.”
“That’s no way to live,” Titus said.
“Tell me about it. I’d fire him but I hate to put Pearl and little Tommy out. She does more than him being here all day. The longer this supposed grievance festers in his mind, the more certain he’ll be he’s been treated badly. I worry he’ll go off the far end and be a physical threat when I do let him go. It's not like I’d be turning them out destitute. He has a real cash job that’s a rarity right now, and they can move back in with her father. I just wish they’d be a bit further away. It was convenient before.”
“Yeah, I could stay for supper and be here for a buffer if you want to let him go but I don’t think that’s a permanent solution if he’s going to be living next door,” Titus said.
“I know you are hoping to get a deputy job in the next county over. I was hoping to be able to interest you in me for when things got closer to normal and a commute would be possible again. There’s just not time to play at romance and do a courtship like people used to do before The Day. If you want to marry me and share the ranch and my good fortune, I need a man living here to discourage creeps like Tommy. I shouldn’t have to but I do. I still want to be the one to tell them I’m letting them go. I hired them after all. I just need some backup because he has no respect for me.
“I have plenty of money for us to live on for years and you’d have to take your chances on getting your dream job after an absence. My thinking is that they’ll still need plenty of good people in the future. I won’t just shack up with you and you’ll have to make this big decision before supper.”
“Wow, just wow. I was already interested but hoped to have time to visit and for us to get to know each other and be sure. But yeah, we can’t date like people used to do.”
“Sorry. I can tell there’s a spark there for both of us but you’ll have to gamble if we will still like each other in a year or ten. I’m willing to try to be easy to live with.”
“Can I at least kiss you before I accept your proposal?” Titus asked.
“That would be nice.”
“That seemed very promising,” Alice said when they stopped. They still held each other in no hurry to let go.
“Alice, if I stay and we fire the hired help, will you go back with me to the county offices tomorrow and record our marriage?”
“I will but no hanky panky tonight,” Alice warned him.
“Yes, would be sufficient. I intend to treat you with respect,” Titus said. “I’m informed you are such a good shot it’s more than just the right thing to do.”
“You sweet talker, you.”
* * *
Chen called all three of them in a conference call. They were well trained by experience that it took a lot for him to look concerned. Indeed, it took a lot for him to call all three of them in real-time instead of a paragraph in his usual report.
“I did something stupid,” Chen said with a grimace.
“We have lots of people we could hire who never make a mistake,” Heather said. “They would take no chances by not doing anything.”
“Well, there’s that,” Chen admitted. “I just didn’t see any problem in treating your ball the same as your court days, minus audio. It seems that in the last couple of weeks a new, really good, lip-reading program has been circulating on the underweb. I didn’t anticipate such a thing to warn you. It’s specific to English too. The damn thing couldn’t be in Bengali or something so we’d have some warning it existed before it was ported to English.
“So, they can tell what we were saying?” Jeff said. He thought about it briefly.
“We did disclose some private things but the time value of them falls off rapidly. Very specific things such as our intended trades were done and of no value in hours or at most a day. I also doubt the cameras caught both sides of our conversations most of the time.”
“That’s true but you can infer a great deal from half of a conversation,” Chen insisted. “Also, there is the fact it was presented as a state event. The dialog was not at all geared to the diplomacy customary at such affairs.”
“Consider my last visit to Earth,” Jeff invited. “I’m not a fan of Earth diplomacy at all. I expect you to be a spy, not a seer.”
“I’m trying to remember things I said,” Heather said. It seemed to amuse her. “I was probably saying the things I’d love to say to a lot of their faces. If they hear these things thinking they were said in confidence, fine. They will know they were said from conviction and not spite.”
“What they said,” April said. “They didn’t hear anything I wouldn’t tell them face to face. They probably already know what I’d say whether friend or foe.”
Chen blinked, dismayed. “Well, I guess I can stop worrying about it.”
“Yeah. It’s probably too late to release some new video hoping they lip-read it. By now they’ll know the program is common knowledge and being staged for them,” Heather concluded.
“That’s truly devious,” Chen said.
“Thank you, dear,” Heather said.
“Until the next crisis then,” Chen said and disconnected.
* * *
“Titus is staying for supper and the night,” Alice informed Pearl when they went back to the house. Pearl looked worried. She’d heard what Alice said to Titus and knew she had all her morning chores long done. Pearl wondered what Alice didn’t want her to hear.
They started the long prep for supper and Titus sat at the table and talked to them. Mostly he listened to Alice recount in detail what she intended to buy or trade for, what they planted to sell, what they planted and preserved from the kitchen garden, and to Pearl’s dismay that they went upstream and panned for gold. That was something they never revealed to anyone.
The kitchen warmed up from the stove and they opened the front and back doors and kitchen windows. There were bells on the screen doors and they had shotguns close to hand for the very slight possibility of uninvited visitors.
Titus listened with interest to the details of how to keep chickens alive and not feed the local raccoons, weasels, hawks, skunks, coyotes, and two-legged vermin. The recovery of canning jars and other treasures from the generations-old ranch dump interested him and he even asked a few questions.
When Tommy came home, they could hear the murmur of his motorbike before he turned off the road. The countryside was so quiet without traffic or the noise of farm machinery you could hear the whisper of the wind around the eaves and in the grass.
Tommy looked briefly alarmed and then poker-faced when he saw Titus. He looked at Pearl and how much information was exchanged in that glance was hard to say. She didn’t look happy. He didn’t take off his pistol and hang it up nor did he sit down, standing off from Titus with his arms crossed. None of that was normal and she had no way to tell Titus. If she called Tommy on it and told him to hang it up it would start an argument sooner than she wanted and not about the real issues.
“Titus is staying for supper and the night,” Alice told him just like she had Pearl.
“What brings you out this way?” Tommy asked him, trying to keep a civil tone. His voice was under control but his body language shouted alarm.
“I delivered some documents to Mr. Mast and he fed me supper and all the local news too. He said the Foys took off for the space station and seemed to know a lot more but censored himself. I stopped because I was concerned Alice might not have a place to live if the Foys were selling this off. I have a tiny place but I offered to shelter her,” Titus said. “Turns out there was no need.”
Tommy sneered. “More likely you heard the gravy train was in the station and rushed over to get aboard.”
Pearl just buried her face in her hands and shook her head. Tommy ignored that.
“Titus is staying more than tonight,” Alice told him. “Your questioning his motives is just a mirror of your own thinking. For your information, I proposed to him. I thought to tell you as gently as possible but there’s no point to it if that’s your attitude. Your services are no longer desired or required. You have plenty of daylight left. Pack your things and go to your father-in-law’s place. It's up to him if he wants you back permanently but I’m sure he’ll take you in tonight. Titus and I are going to go to the county offices and register our marriage in the morning and we’ll be managing the ranch ourselves when we come home.”
“What makes you think it’ll be here?” Tommy asked.
“Because you don’t want to die?” Titus asked in a deceptively soft voice. “I know the Ranger here. I’ll inform him of your threats. I doubt he’ll pursue that as a priority but if something does happen to the house or us, I expect they’ll clear out your family as a local nest of banditry just like they did the Olsens.”
After a prolonged silence, Tommy said, “I don’t know that we can take everything of ours out in one trip.”
“Then take the heavy stuff now while you have your bike,” Alice said. “Pearl can come back for anything left tomorrow. You can wait for her down by the road if you want. But you aren’t welcome here again and I’ll consider you in trespass if I find you anywhere on the property.”
Tommy looked at Titus like he expected something more from him but Alice had said it all.
He gave a silent jerk of his head to Pearl and she went to their room and started bagging up bedding and clothing. She had the luxury of expensive trash bags the Foys had flown in and Alice didn’t begrudge them. Anything that facilitated their departure was fine with her.
* * *
“We all have our life extension,” Deloris pointed out. “The three are taking the long view and I think we should too. Their program makes sense and will leave us in a much better position to own our own ship. Maybe faster than trying to rush them to build another ship the fast expensive way. It’ll be a better ship too.”
“If I absolutely had to be rich tomorrow, I’d buy lotto tickets,” Alice snarked.
“As usual, I bow to your superior experience,” Barak told his ladies.
Kurt and Laja were sharing a deep Hardoy chair. You’d think they were oblivious to everything but each other but Laja broke away long enough to look at Deloris and said, “We concur.”
Barak pursed his lips and squinted a little. In the sudden silence, Kurt and Laja looked up and found Alice and Deloris both looking at Barak expectantly. They were so well tuned to each other that Barak might as well have shouted out loud for attention.
“I agree with everything about this new program,” he said. “But I know my sister and I can read April fairly well, a skill I’ve gained by occasionally failing, I admit. But I do learn. They have something else significant happening and I can’t figure out what it may be.”
“Jeff too,” Alice informed them. “Maybe it’s the same thing but he’s looking smug lately. I have no clue why. It’s a mystery.”
“If it’s that big of a project it will reveal itself in time,” Deloris said. “Whatever it is, they must not need our help with it.”
Chapter 23
“Pierre!” April was surprised to see he hadn’t returned to Earth two days after the ball. That was one of their new hotel rooms behind him. “You never came back and talked to us at the ball,” she complained.
“There always seemed to be somebody talking to you and most of the time somebody else just waiting for them to finish up and move on. Anyway, I decided to stay. I suspect we’ll see each other now and then. If not, at least there won’t be a big lag on com.”
“You mean permanently? You’re not going back to Earth?” April asked.
“It’s time I get the full life extension and France prohibits the full range of treatments. They have confusing opinions about what is natural and what is an abomination. The truth is, it comes down to feelings and orthodoxy. I don’t wish to wait until it is a rush job to try to recover me before I die. I know the longer you wait the less they can recover.
“I’m not sure however that I’m staying on the Moon. It’s cheaper to get your treatment here than at Home. I may want to live on Home. There seems like a lot more to do. I’m fairly well off financially but if I want to work there may be more of the management sort of jobs for which I’d qualify on Home.”
“I’ll ask some of my business contacts if they need someone like you,” April promised. “I hope they are treating you OK at our hotel. You remind me we need to get a permanent manager in place and we didn’t give instructions about what to do if any of the guests stayed over.”
“Someone took the initiative to clean my room and make the bed. I’d say you have good people if they saw to it with no orders,” Pierre said. “I haven’t received any billing either.”
“Don’t worry about that,” April said. “We don’t have a payment system in place. In fact, we’re going to move a bunch of our own people in there so we can renovate their quarters before we open it as a business. Stay there as long as you need to.”
“The people giving me advanced LET are supposed to provide accommodations as part of my treatment,” Pierre said. “I’ll be moving there tomorrow but thank you.”
“That must be Ames,” April said. “You’re in good hands with him.
“Yes, that’s him, and glad to hear that endorsement. Oh, one last thought. I meant to tell you the ball was incredibly entertaining and I met a lot of interesting people.”
Thank you. We’re going to make it an annual affair. Goodbye, Pierre.”
“Bye, April,” he disconnected.
* * *
“I talked to Pierre Broutin,” April told her partners. “He’s having the full suite of life extension with Jelly and is going to stay either here or Home.”
“It will be very interesting to see what he looks like after the full course of treatments,” Heather said. “He was very attractive in a mature sort of way.”
Jeff looked uncomfortable at that praise and visibly squirmed a little bit.
Heather got a devilish grin and continued. “I think I should let my mother know about Pierre. She was very taken with him some years ago. He invited her to visit him and see France but she didn’t want to get seriously involved with a short-lifer.”
“Are you playing matchmaker?” April asked.
“Who me?” Heather asked with feigned innocence.
“They could both do a lot worse,” Jeff said.
“We’ll see how he feels after his treatment,” April said. “I’ve noticed folks who get the treatments later in life are often surprised how much energy they regain. When you slowly decline in abilities over the years you aren’t aware of it happening and compensate for it to some degree. I’m not sure what he might want to do but I’d bet he isn’t going to be content to be Sylvia’s house husband.”
“That may be,” Heather agreed, “but I also think you’d be surprised what a full-time job that could be.”
“He certainly should be able to keep up. There’s just one of her,” Jeff said.
His ladies looked at him surprised.
“Are you making a comparison? Are we taxing you?” Heather asked solicitously. She beat April to it because April was fighting the urge to break out in laughter too hard to speak.
“No comparison,” Jeff assured them. “You two are not unreasonable perfectionists like Sylvia. I don’t feel dominated,” Jeff assured them.
“Well, I have to go back to Home,” April said. “Since Heather won the toss, she deserves your full attention. I’ll be back in a week or two.”
Heather got up and hugged her.
“Thank you. I love you too.”
* * *
“Our explorers are off on another loop tomorrow,” Jeff said. “I approved their itinerary. They could just as well take off in a random direction at this point. Everything is new but the very closest stars. Deloris informs me they are all aboard and supportive of our changes in how we will build ships. She added that they all have their life extension as one of their reasons to agree. She didn’t need to tell me that. It wouldn’t make sense for short-lifers. What is interesting is that they suggest we add Johnson to their team if you are willing to lose his work here. They feel they could do two ship explorations easier and safer with one more jump ship capable pilot and he's quite willing.”
“They must have determined he’s compatible with their social group,” Heather said. “I’m not entirely certain what to call it or how it functions, and I don’t think it follows our command structure. It’s a discussion I’ve avoided because I can easily see Deloris telling me and then feeling free to ask how ours works. I’m not sure I could explain and for sure I don’t want to. It may be prejudice but I’m at a loss to see how they can make it work with increasing numbers. I’m wondering what they will do when they find somebody who isn’t as compatible as they thought and must be expelled.”
“That would present us with a problem,” Jeff decided. “Deloris seems to be their spokesperson with the outside world. If she ever comes to you and says we have to remove someone from their team, I suggest you agree and find them a different job.”
“That makes sense,” Heather said. “I’ll do that.”
“Amy is away,” Jeff said. “Would you like me to get some lunch run over from the cafeteria?”
Heather made a face.
“Breakfast didn’t sit well with me. I think I’ll just have some tea with honey and hope supper sounds better.”
Jeff looked suddenly alert and did something with his pad.
“Let me see your arm,” Jeff demanded. He held the sensor cluster right against her arm and let it take a reading.
“It’s too early,” Heather protested. “My implant has only been turned off a week.”
“That’s not what the diagnostic program says.”
Heather’s eyebrows went up.
“Yep, it says there is a ninety-two percent probability that you are gravid, in technical medical jargon.”
“Well,” Heather laughed, “this new project is moving along better than anything else we’ve done in a while,” Heather said.
“That’s what happens when you put your best people on it,” Jeff said.
* * *
“Wow, this changes everything,” April said to Heather’s com call.
“But you knew this was coming,” Heather said “Or at least we had every expectation it would. We’re both healthy and had no reason to expect any problems.”
“I know,” April agreed. “Somehow the reality hit me in the face harder than the theory. We’re going to be responsible for children just like our parents were.”
“They didn’t seem to do such an awful job,” Heather said.
“I know, I know. And yet I’d like to do a little better,” April said.
“It’s not such a long project for a long-lifer,” Heather suggested, “A decade and a half or two decades and you’ve had as much time as you’ll get to see what you can make of them. Then it’s on them to carry on. We’re certainly bringing them into a better world than the Slum Ball.”
“You’re encouraging. Thank you. It suddenly makes everything we are doing more important,” April said.
“We wanted a better world for ourselves anyway,” Heather said. “We have a shot at better worlds.”
Jeff had been silent.
“Yes. I figure we just keep doing what we’ve been doing all along,” he said. “I’ll do whatever I can. I mean, not to brag, but so far it’s always been enough, hasn’t it?
Heather reached over and hugged him closer in the camera pickup.
“It has, and I’m sure you’ll keep surprising us with new things for a long time.”
– END –
The Last Part
Other Kindle Books & Links by Mackey Chandler
April (first of Fourteen in the series)
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0077EOE2C
April is an exceptional young lady and something of a snoop. She finds herself involved with intrigues that stretch her abilities, after a chance run-in with a spy. There is a terrible danger she and her friends and family will lose the only home she has ever known in orbit and be forced to live on the slum ball below. It's more than a teen should have to deal with. Fortunately, she has a lot of smart friends and allies, 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 its 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 that 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 six in series.) Also as audiobooks.
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006GQSZVS
People love easily. Look at most of your relatives or coworkers. How lovable are they? Really? Yet most have mates and children. The vast majority are still invited to family gatherings and their relatives will speak to them.
Many have pets to which they are devoted. Some even call them their fur-babies. Is your dog or cat or parakeet property or family? Not in law but in your heart? Can a pet really love you back? Or is it a different affection? Are you not kind to those who feed and shelter you? But what if your dog could talk back? Would your cat speak to you kindly?
What if the furry fellow in question has his own law? And is quite articulate in explaining his choices. Can a Human adopt such an alien? Can such an intelligent alien adopt a human? Should they?
How much more complicated might it be if we meet really intelligent species not human? How would we treat these 'people' in feathers or fur? Perhaps a more difficult question is: How would they treat us? Are we that lovable?
When society and the law decide these sorts of questions must be answered it is usually because someone disapproves of your choices. Today it may be a cat named in a will or a contest for custody of a dog. People are usually happy living the way they want until conflict is forced upon them.
Of course, if the furry alien in question is smart enough to fly spaceships, and happens to be similar in size and disposition to a mature Grizzly bear, wisdom calls for a certain delicacy in telling 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 doing a survey of 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. Him 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 was of the opinion 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 star faring 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 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