Author: Mackey Chandler
Date: 2020-01-08T18:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science Fiction
Description: Living by bad neighbors is hard. Especially when there is a whole mob of them. Needing to do business with them makes it harder. Imagine nine billion noisy disrespectful neighbors who can’t keep their word and would be just as happy to see you dead. The orbital nation of Home moved the fence line a little by moving from Low Earth Orbit to beyond the Moon, but the Slumball, Earth, is still a just few light seconds away and thoroughly unpredictable. April and her partners Heather and Jeff know they need an entirely new neighborhood far away. Their superluminal drive will let them do that. It’s b

All in Good Time

Mackay Chandler

Cover by Sara Hoyt

© 2020 Mackey Chandler

Chapter 1

Jeff Singh, Irwin Hall, and Eddie Persico sat away from the crowd, by the back wall in the old cafeteria, drinking coffee and conspiring. On Earth that would have been like the Governor of the Federal Bank, the Secretary of the Treasury, and the CEO of Amazon-Walmart-Fuji (AWF) meeting in the corner booth at a Waffle House. On Home, the social and political strata related to wealth and power still existed, but was exhibited in very different ways. None of them had bodyguards or felt the need to have a special secure conference room to keep such meetings secret.

Markets wouldn’t change value wildly on rumors the three were seen together, because those sorts of public markets didn’t exist on Home. If anyone on Home held Earth stocks they were traded on Earth exchanges, with all the risks that applied to foreigners operating in a different legal system. Eddie did so, but retained one of the three resident attorneys on Home who served Home citizens to deal with the complexities of Earth laws and taxes.

Most businesses on Home and Central on the Moon were sole proprietors or partnerships. So far the Assembly hadn’t seen giving legal status to corporations as desirable. Several speakers objected to allowing foreign corporations any special rights of personhood, arguing that would diminish personal responsibility when such a thing was proposed. Earth corporations had little representation on Home because their agents would be held personally responsible for their corporate conduct. That effectively negated the reasons to do business as a corporation. There were three banks and two delivery services brave enough to pay somebody very well to do that, and their terms of service were very different on Home than what the Earth branches of their companies offered.

Jeff and Irwin ran the two banks that were exclusively spacer owned, and Eddie was the richest person on Home, at least in terms of actual liquid cash assets. Eddie was aware Jeff with his partners Heather and April probably had more potential for wealth looking a few decades into the future. Far from being competitors, they both intended to informally support and accommodate each other as having complementary business interests even if they weren’t actual partners.

Irwin was their link to Earthly interests, given Jeff was effectively isolated from using most Earth banking systems. Not that Earthies were all that thrilled with Irwin’s Private Bank of Home, but there was trade between the habitat and Earth that was too large and important to run underground. Home made biologicals and electronics that couldn’t be produced in gravity. The illegal trade was always much more expensive too. The de facto currency of Home was the solar, a monetary unit based on a twenty-five gram gold or platinum coin, which was illegal to hold or trade in North America or China.

As long as the coins carried the name of Jeff’s System Trade Bank on its face instead of Irwin’s Private Bank of Home the Earthies ignored the fact that much of the metal the System Trade Bank coined came from Irwin’s deposits and went straight back to him for a minimal seigniorage. There wasn’t really an alternative way to carry on an exchange that wouldn’t cost more or look worse. So Irwin kept access to four bank clearing systems, though only the Russian Federation and India treated him as a full peer in their system.

Eddie wanted to build a second companion habitat to Home, opposite it in a halo orbit around the meta-stable point that Home circled out beyond the Moon. Actually, he wanted to build two of them, but he didn’t quite have the funds to build one alone, so he was discussing how to bring in Earth money with the two bankers. It bothered him not to keep total control of the project that sole ownership would allow, but he was worried the Earth economy was recovering sufficiently somebody else might undertake the project and get in ahead of him. The slots in the orbital path were up for grab, ever since Home had made clear the UN or any other Earth agencies weren’t going to be able to tell the Homies where they could park. China had lost a couple trillion Yuan of ships and their crews trying to enforce that defunct idea. The UN didn’t exist anymore, except as some obsolete agreements on paper without agency.

If Eddie didn’t get some construction started opposite Home there was a real possibility a consortium of Japanese, Australian, and other partners might put a smaller habitat there to establish squatter’s rights until they could build on the initial station. Jeff and Irwin both agreed that was a danger, and would rather deal with Eddie controlling a new hab than some unknown. It would be glaringly hypocritical to object someone else couldn’t do the same thing Home had done and stake out an unoccupied space.

“I don’t want to just build an unspun hub,” Eddie insisted. “I want it to be obvious we intend to ultimately build a series of rings just like Home has, but with more cubic and stiffer so it can be moved easier if we need to in the future. So I want the start of a beefy spindle and two cylindrical sections at the end of two arms that investors can visualize being extended over time each way until they complete a ring. You’d leave closed off sections on the hub where two more spokes would be extended too. It needs to be built strong enough to spin up to a full g when the ring is completed all the way around. I want it to be obvious it’s just a start and where stuff will be added on next.”

“That would be hard to keep balanced out without a full ring to carry a balancing circuit,” Irwin pointed out. “You’d have to pump against the throw clear to the hub to transfer to the other side. It wouldn’t be near as fast as pumping around a full ring.”

“That’s another reason why we’d only spin it up to half speed until we have a full ring,” Eddie said. “Do you really have serious doubts about the feasibility? Have you read the engineering studies and alternate proposals? Neither of you are aerospace architects. If you have specific doubts somebody must be feeding them. Is somebody I’m not aware of speaking against the project?”

Irwin shook his head no. “They aren’t serious objections. I pretty much skipped all the detailed stuff about early construction and went to the architectural concept drawings and important numbers at the end. All the deep stuff about moment arms and skin loadings was Greek to me. It’s just that when you start talking about it, all these objections easily pop to mind. I know just enough from living in Home to have ideas about what can go wrong.”

“It’s probably better to not bring all that stuff up unless you are talking with a space nut or a construction worker who is just fascinated with every detail,” Irwin told Eddie. “I have to pretty much trust the people you hired to know what they are doing. You have to trust me to be able to say whether the needed money can be attracted to the project no matter how physically sound and practical it is. Some of my job is stoking the desire to do the project. Have you decided on a name for the hab? I can’t just keep describing it in general terms to people who would put their money into it. A name makes it real to them.”

“We’ve just been calling it Beta,” Eddie said. “I figure when there are enough actual inhabitants somebody will propose a name. Who would have predicted Mitsubishi 3 would become Home? The designers have been speaking of Gamma too, but I’m trying to restrain myself from sounding like I’m wildly optimistic. I’ll talk about a third hab after Beta is well started and a reality.”

“I can work with Beta,” Irwin said. “It’s actually good. It reminds the investors that this isn’t a new concept, it’s just another hab like has already been built and in use.”

“I know just enough about shipbuilding to understand some of the terms,” Jeff Singh said. “It’s like a person who knows how to do simple line drawings looking at an oil painting. They are both art and may share some similarities of perspective and composition. But that doesn’t mean that because you can do a decent pencil sketch that you can actually do an oil painting. Likewise, I know a little banking, but Irwin understands the Earth’s banking systems and what their people want to hear from him better than me. So, I have to trust both of you to a large degree.”

Irwin believed Jeff had no idea how to schmooze with Earth bankers. Stories about his confusion and inappropriate responses in social situations abounded. In fairness, a lot of them were old and simply wouldn’t go away. His ladies seemed to have done a great job of grooming both his manners and his public appearance. He even dressed better now. But he could still present as normal for days and then suddenly turn strange for the oddest reasons. Irwin, however, suspected his dependency on him to deal with Earth bankers was more in the nature of a convenience than necessity. There were other socially skilled gracious spox to be hired if needed. If the required response was less than gracious Jeff seemed to handle that fine himself.

When Jeff’s bank was cut out of Earth settlement systems over the creation of his currency, he hadn’t begged for acceptance and a way to make amends. Rather, Jeff very publicly stopped accepting their currencies, dumping the dollars and euromarks his bank was holding like two-day-old fish with sunken eyes. Doing so through shady Russians in a way that was just private enough it was hard to denounce, and public enough not to fool anyone about what was happening. The audacity of the action was something no Earth banker would have anticipated. Irwin certainly hadn’t expected it. It was then their currencies that had declined sharply rather than solars.

Irwin suspected that without his help to retain some connection between the banking systems it would have gotten a lot uglier, and he wouldn’t bet that Jeff wasn’t capable of creating a full-blown panic in the Earth financial systems. He had the damnedest knack of saying the unvarnished truth nobody wanted to hear at the worst possible moment.

Jeff still denied deliberately engineering that devaluation. Irwin had been tempted back then, and still occasionally thought about running Jeff’s statements through verification software. He’d discussed doing that with his most trusted employee, Dan Prescott, who handled their IT. Dan had asked just what Irwin expected to do if he got answers he didn’t like? He also predicted Irwin would be tempted to script words and phrases into his conversations with Jeff to try to elicit answers the software could quantify better.

“Do you think that would work?” Irwin asked, intrigued at the idea.

“I think he’d catch on to it about the third time you said something that isn’t your usual pattern of speech. You’d substitute a stronger word for your normally mild euphemisms trying to elicit a response. Think about it. If you knew someone was checking it for veracity I bet it would change your speech even if you tried not to let it. Once he saw you were fishing for certain keywords and topics he’d lead you about with false responses until you ended up knowing even less than you did before.” Dan said.

“You really think he is that smart?” Irwin demanded.

“I know he is. I’m smart enough to know that he’s a lot smarter than me, even if like most very smart people, it makes him a bit strange. Now, the next thing you are going to be tempted to say is, ‘If he’s so smart maybe you should go work for him.’ I’ve heard you say variations on that to other people. If you say it out loud to me I will go see if he’ll hire me.”

Irwin didn’t say it, but he didn’t deny thinking it either. Dan had a big enough interest in the bank now it would be awkward to have him go work for Jeff. They cooperated but tried to maintain a public separation. He also knew Jeff was smarter than him, and suspected Dan was too. He certainly was about computers and security. Irwin had that twinge of insecurity so many feel to have an employee smarter than them. He’d resisted acting on it so far because he’d seen other businesses fail from limiting themselves that way.

What Irwin didn’t understand, was that it was a positive factor in retaining Dan. If he quit, Dan had pretty much two choices, start his own bank, for which he lacked the capital to do so alone, or go to work for Singh. He wasn’t comfortable with either bringing in partners or working for somebody that much smarter than him. He felt much more secure with Irwin.

“If you have the basics, why not go ahead and learn how to build stations?” Eddie asked Jeff, cutting off Irwin’s worrying over his insecurities.

“There isn’t enough time to know everything. In the last few years, I’ve had a hand in designing and building a dozen ships with a lot of help from others. Yet I couldn’t start to design an Earth-style ship to Earth standards. Even that is too specialized. How long do you think it would be before I got to help design a dozen stations? I had to get a lot of help just to design the zero-g temporary housing we built. The payback period on that deep and difficult of a course of study is too long for me. Let somebody else do it who thinks it’s fun.”

“That pretty much describes the two fellows I’m using,” Eddie said. “I swear they would do it on their own time if they couldn’t find anybody to pay them for it. They’re just disappointed they can’t show off by doing fancy stuff like the park that one guy keeps suggesting to the Assembly.”

“They haven’t had to vote to shut him up the last couple of assemblies,” Jeff reminded them. “My Lady April suggested such a thing would be much easier to do on the Moon. I understand he intends to move there once he finds a job opening that suits him. Heather is not opposed in principle to dual-use farming and parkland, but the conditions that prevail in most of the cabbage mines may put this fellow off who would see it used as a park too.”

“Not enough open space?” Eddie guessed.

“That can be worked around,” Jeff said with a dismissive gesture, “But a lot of the crops are too susceptible to disease to let a couple of hundred people a day march through. Working gloved and stepping in antiseptic and then a rinse entering the grow room is standard with a lot of things. Ginger still gets contaminated even doing that. I think the mold may ride in on our clothing. Mo just recently started making the workers wear paper suits and hair covers to tend ginger.

“Most grow rooms are sealed behind a lock because they have higher CO² levels, and the lighting is often shifted to odd parts of the spectrum to promote growth or enhance a certain desired yield. Will people enjoy a park shifted to red or yellow lighting? They’ll work out something for limited areas to be dual-use, but not in a week or even a year from now.”

“I’ll be happy if we just have some decorative planters or wall gardens in the public areas of the new station,” Irwin said.

“You need that in your concept drawings for your presentations and eventually public announcements. Having some flowers and plants is good PR even for a business like a hotel. To whom do you plan to make the early presentations?” Jeff asked.

“The situation is not stable enough in Hong Kong for foreigners,” Irwin said, “And even Singapore requires too much security for me to want to risk it. I’m planning on doing a small private meeting with bankers and aerospace people in Darwin. It’s readily accessible by air. If enough Japanese declare a strong interest, I might do another meeting in Tokyo rather than inconvenience them to come to Australia.”

“You aren’t going to teleconference?” Jeff asked, a little alarmed.

“These are the sort of negotiations where various parties want to meet after to speak in their own privacy and security envelope. You end up doing two or three private meetings in the evening after the one in common. I’ll get a lot more accomplished face to face. If there is sufficient interest I might go to Cuba. It has made a very good thing for itself being a neutral banking center between South America and its huge dysfunctional neighbor to the north. North America still bans hypersonics. Even those leaving their coasts, so everybody goes to Cuba to reroute to Asia or Europe. From there I can get a hypersonic back west to Hawaii to lift for Home, or east to Europe if there is interest to be followed up on there.”

“I’m concerned for your personal safety,” Jeff said. “I’ve heard of a few people visiting states that are very liberal about genetic mods, but you could still have problems making safe connecting flights. I don’t trust Earthies. Look how they shot at me two years ago. They can’t decide from one day to the next whether or not we have a treaty with them.”

“I think you would be surprised how many have made business trips in the last year,” Irwin said. “They don’t advertise they are going for security concerns, but some of my customers told me privately they wouldn't be available for a week or two and why. In fact, some go to the effort to not appear absent at all by making their usual contacts and com calls. Not everybody is as big a target as you,” Irwin said pointedly. “I doubt anyone would waste a missile on me, and certainly not riding in a commercial craft with a hundred others.”

“I suppose. I pretty much had to promise my ladies I wouldn’t make myself a target by going down to the Slum Ball again,” Jeff revealed. He wouldn’t even admit they were his ladies to most people, but Irwin and Eddie were close friends beyond any business interests. He wondered if April knew Irwin was planning a trip to Earth what she would tell him?

* * *

Heather, Jeff, and April found three days that they could all be together at Central before Jeff had to return to Home on business. It seemed like pleasant days spent together were more and more difficult to schedule the wider the reach of their business interests grew. It wasn’t simply about making money, it was about maintaining their political independence and safety. Now that they had a star drive, Jeff said he’d like to find a habitable planet so far away the Earthies would be centuries finding it and just leave all the turmoil and stress of dealing with them behind. Neither of his ladies took it for a serious proposal, but they understood his feelings.

Heather had the deepest roots put down, being sovereign of Central with hundreds of subjects and owning a great deal of lunar real estate, but she agreed even before April.

“Show me a safe and practical way to do it, and I’ll pack up and elope with both of you.”

“Living beside a slum with nine billion crazy neighbors isn’t anything we chose to do,” April said. “We didn’t have any choice but to make the best of the situation before. Now we have a way to leave, or at least we will with a little more development, and assuming we find some decently habitable planet. Of course, anybody would want to move to a better neighborhood without the trashy neighbors once the opportunity opened up. Moving Home out past the Moon helped, but you know that’s just a temporary fix.

“Just remember, I do insist on certain basic amenities. I wouldn’t come to visit you here on the Moon until you had a decent shower. I’m not about to rush from one unpleasant situation to another. With just a little planning and preparation we can have a distant retreat like a nice vacation home, not a rough bunker, and still keep track of what is happening here so there aren’t any rude surprises.”

“And a chocolate mint on your pillow at night?” Heather teased.

“OK, the way I described it is a bit of a fantasy,” Jeff admitted. “Now that the Earthies have a basic star drive I suspect nowhere in the galaxy is going to be a little desert island we can hide on and never be found. Not once they perfect it, and they’ll keep working at it until they do. But giving ourselves a couple of centuries-long breather before the unwashed masses are knocking on our door seems practical and worthwhile. At worst, we’ll just need to move on further away when they can reach us. But perhaps we can get established to a point it doesn’t matter when they eventually find out where we settled.”

“I believe that if a killer asteroid smacked Earth right now we have sufficient population and resources off-planet that the race would survive,” Heather said. “The risk of a natural extinction event happening has been greatly reduced with better sky surveys and the ability to intercept a big rock and alter its orbit, but the risk still isn’t zero. A big rock coming in from the fringes of the system could still be big enough and fast enough to be impossible to intercept. It serves everybody’s interests for us to be able to survive independently just to carry on the Human race. I’m with April that we want to be able to do more than just survive. I’d want to preserve all the best parts of our civilization and be comfortable, much more comfortable than just a shower. I want the ability to continue to advance our civilization, not just hold our ground.”

“I’d miss honey for my tea,” April added to her list.

“No, you wouldn’t. We have six hives with genetic diversity frozen and waiting until we can spare the time and air to provide them with a proper habitat,” Heather told her. “You’ll have honey.”

Jeff frowned and thought about it. “The infrastructure to support nine billion people is so delicate, one fast hard to see small rock could mean a good fraction of them would die and there would be little support for making sure we continue to be supplied with Earth goods. They’ll be too busy surviving.”

April shook her head no, disagreeing. “That’s why I’d say trade will never be cut off entirely unless it’s an honest planet killer. As long as there are operating shuttles from either side the very richest people will want our goods. If you are a trillionaire and need a cancer drug only made in zero-g you don’t really care if a quarter of the population just got wiped out by an asteroid strike. You’ll want to buy it even if you have to pay for a special launch to bring back a single tenth-kilogram packet just for you.”

“You two understand people better than me,” Jeff admitted. “When you put it in those terms I can see how it would work that way. I’m embarrassed because I should have been able to figure that out on my own. You both not only understand people better than me, but I’ll grant you are both nicer than me. If I had to spend most of everything we own to save either of you I wouldn’t hesitate to do it and if somebody else needed those resources that would just be too bad. Human nature doesn’t change because a disaster happened to other people. Thanks for the lesson.”

“People do help one another and do noble things in adversity,” Heather admitted. “But there are limits. It’s popular to say how much help should be given when you are giving away other people’s stuff. But when the disaster is big enough you either do some sort of triage or trying to meet every need will eat up every resource and leave nothing for a recovery. If there was a disaster of that scale on Earth what could we do for them?

“Not much,” she answered herself. “I think the total off-Earth population is still not much more than twenty thousand people, unless the Chinese are lying big time. Most of them still depend on supply from Earth not the other way around. We’re in a much better situation with the cabbage mines, but almost all our excess food production already goes to Home. The other habitats like ISSII and New Las Vegas wouldn’t be anywhere I’d want to be with bulk Earth supply cut off. I’m actually starting to think about limiting and controlling who can come to Central beyond their economic ability. Imagine a large number of people abandoning those other habitats and coming here rather than going back to Earth.”

“We have a labor and talent shortage right now, but I’m already accumulating a list of people I find undesirable. So far, I haven’t had to exclude any of them, although I’ve warned a few. I won’t allow a surge in population to change the nature of my kingdom. For example, I won’t give up holding my own weekly court and start delegating justice to others to decide,” Heather said.

“If holding your court takes more than a day a week you should start culling some of the worst,” Jeff said. “Maybe make a three strikes and you are expelled rule for people who show up to have you solve their problems over and over.”

“I’d have kicked Linda Pennington out already on that basis,” Heather said. “I had to create my first restraining order for her to let Mo alone. She insists she has to be able to communicate with him about their children and I ordered her to never call him in voice mode or go to his door. She has to contact him by text or mail. I had to expand it to include not approaching him face to face when he is using public facilities like the cafeteria. She applied to work where she’d be in the same facilities with him daily and Mo threatened to quit if that was allowed. I’ve about had it with her.”

“I don’t think the woman will ever shuck off her Earth Think,” Jeff warned.

“Agreed, we don’t need to be supporting disruptive people,” April said. “We aren’t expanding much beyond being able to take care of our own. The time factor wouldn’t allow us to expand food production either. We can bore more tunnels and make more trays and lights, but it would take a year and maybe longer to double our capacity putting all our resources into it, and get enough water and carbon to fill them. That would still only support a couple thousand more people. When millions of Earth people need help they need it in days not months. If they can’t do local disaster relief all that well themselves, how can we?”

“Well, we just can’t worry about that,” Jeff decided. “It will never be within our ability to help any significant number of Earthies. There are just too many of them.”

“Neither could they ever repay what it costs to produce food here,” Heather said. “I don’t mind a reasonable amount of charity, but I’m not up for world saving. They have to bear some responsibility. They deliberately run the whole system right on the edge of capacity with no safety margin, because it’s cheaper that way. It’s horrifying to a spacer used to demanding a margin of capacity and redundancy in vital systems.”

“If we did save them it would become a permanent condition,” Jeff predicted.

The women thought about it, surprised. “Yeah, it would,” Heather agreed.

“Now that they have a working star drive I’m more concerned about somebody deliberately tossing a rock at Earth than a natural event,” April said.

“Their sort of drive isn’t up to hauling large masses through a jump yet, though I’m sure they will improve it. Besides, they’ve had thousands of nukes for a hundred years and very few have ever been used,” Jeff said. “If it gets out of hand and becomes a general exchange it’s like dueling in a room with hand grenades. So far even they haven’t been that crazy.”

“The Martians might,” April said.

“Oh crap yeah, they’re a problem. Those people are nuts,” Jeff agreed. “I can see them convincing themselves they could get away with it and never be blamed.”

“And they are just the sort of fanatics who’ve rationalized genocide before,” Heather said. “I think we need to make it a doctrine not to allow the Martians any sort of stardrive as long as they remain a closed cult with their supposed secret that aliens exist.”

“It may never be a problem,” Jeff said, hopefully. “I agree that is just as important as prohibiting armed vessels past L1. Once the Earthies find out they have the wreck of an alien ship, the Martian’s secret won’t have any power. If we declare they can’t have a starship it just gives them a warning that they have to keep any attempt to acquire one secret. Let’s just watch and keep our mouths shut and hope the window of opportunity passes for them to get one without our intervention. It’s going to be a while before you can just order one up from a shipbuilder. If the Earthies are ever stupid enough to let them get their hands on a starship we can arrange an accident easier than if it’s all taking place publicly.”

“We could take the wind out of their sails by announcing there are aliens,” April said.

“If anybody believed us,” Jeff said.

“Well, we could tell them where they have that alien wreck hidden under a roof and you know they would check it out even if they publicly mocked us as lunatics,” April suggested.

“They’d send a military expedition to Mars, and breach our L1 limit no matter what we did. That would be the end of containing them militarily,” Heather said. “They would push past us even if we killed a thousand ships. We contain them now because there isn’t any prize worth the price they’d have to pay, not because they can’t.”

“I wouldn’t care if they send troops with small arms,” Jeff said.

Heather shook her head no. “A solar says the Martians have militarized their moons by now, and any invasion would have to have armed ships that could defend themselves and carry armed shuttles to land directly on the surface.” She didn’t bother to lay a coin out.

“No bet,” Jeff decided. He had a perfect betting record with Heather. He’d never taken a single wager against her.

“But I’m not sure having their secret exposed would be enough to remove the Martian government from power,” April said. “I think they are unbalanced, and will still see themselves as the only true priesthood to preach the danger of aliens. They are obviously terrified of the idea since they expect the rest of us to panic at their secret. I see the whole situation as unstable and unpredictable. We need to watch it closely. I’m not sure who is watching them. It looks like France lost their network there so I doubt there were other Europeans running intelligence on Mars.”

“I’ll ask Chen if he can explore who else might have assets there,” Heather said. “As much as I dislike them, and would just rather forget they exist. We may have to use resources to spy on them or even support them, as distasteful as that would be.”

“Why?” April asked, making a face.

“They do have an entire alien spaceship,” Heather reminded her. “True, it’s pretty badly wrecked. The front is compacted as badly as a ground car that hit a concrete bridge foundation at speed, but who knows what tech they may pry out of it? Ask yourself if you’d rather see the Earthies in possession of it, with all their assets to analyze it better and faster.”

“Oh, I can see that,” April allowed.

“I noticed they care enough about public opinion to have styled themselves the Martian Republic,” Jeff said.

“Oh sure, and they’re functionally about as much a republic as the various ‘people’s republics’ are,” April said, “they’re more like a cult than a legitimate government.”

Jeff just shrugged at that.

“We’ll see,” was as close as Heather would come to agreeing with their analysis.

“Speaking of tossing rocks,” Jeff said. “Now that the Remora is built I’d like to take it and the Hringhorni and Dionysus’ Chariot out and try some ideas I have about dragging rocks along in their drive field. It may be a while again before we have three jump capable ships in-system at the same time while the Hringhorni is out exploring. I’d like to try to drag a couple of rocks into Mars polar orbit to make a start on assembling your space station,” he told Heather.

“Can you time three of them jumping out close enough to not endanger anyone? Not just that, but we absolutely can’t afford an accident that would involve all three ships.”

“Easily, we have much better clocks by two orders of magnitude than are needed across a hundred meters, and they will constantly cross-check with each other and abort without human intervention if they lose sync right up until the last clock cycle,” Jeff promised.

“Redundant clocks?” Heather demanded.

“Triply redundant, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Jeff said.

“Have you been out to see the Remora?” April asked Heather.

“No, but I’ve seen video of it. I’m sure Jeff is doing a competent job, despite my interrogating him about the clocks.”

“You should really go stand in it,” April urged her. “I know it’s a lifeboat and not intended to even make single jumps unless they are forced to do so, but it’s really small.”

“How small is it?” Heather asked in her “What is the punch line?” voice.

“Well, it’s a good thing they are all family and live in the same apartment. It would be just as jammed as the Happy Lewis was after we rescued Jeff’s dad and step mum. Easy and I had to do a long hard EV and then strip out of our suits and clean up with sani-wipes in front of strangers. At least they were strangers then. It wasn’t anything I remember as a glorious adventure. When we got back I stood in the shower and let it beat on me as hot as I could stand for a long time. If you wonder why I’m so fond of showers, that’s reason enough. If they ever do have to use the Remora, don’t be surprised if they ask for a couple of weeks vacation away from each other after they get back.”

“There goes my plan to borrow it while on a layover for a fun weekend trip,” Jeff said.

“Don’t believe him for a second,” April warned Heather.

“I’ll get it done then,” Jeff said, looking at both of them to make sure he had consensus on the matter. “The crew are all chomping at the bit to get this test out of the way and go survey some more stars.”

Chapter 2

In Northern California, Eileen was still in her first year with her new husband Victor Foy. He was a local and older than her. She was a refugee from Southern California, displaced by the bombardment of Vandenberg that April had carried out a couple of years previously to make them stop shooting at Jeff. She really hadn’t used excessive force. The damage was far out of line with the level of her response. There was some splatter from the primary weapon into the adjoining counties, but she really hadn’t targeted civilian areas.

The problem had been that all of Southern California was a hodgepodge of obsolete and barely adequate infrastructure waiting to do a chain-reaction collapse if any important piece was damaged. Southern California was depopulated and reverting to desert within a month of the strike. People who built luxury seaside mansions on the Baja after the Mexican annexation fled or died.

The northern part of the state and parts of eastern Oregon were more like the tribal areas of Pakistan now than part of the United States of North America. The new seat of North American governance, Vancouver, looked dangerously close to being cut off from the rest of its populated areas when you looked at an honest map.

The Texas Republic in the South and East was keeping the USNA too busy to do anything about the autonomous areas. Nevada wasn’t exactly lawless, but it was a lot emptier than before The Day. Many businesses were closed, including all the casinos, and available services were limited. You might get mail if you could get to your post office, but forget delivery or seeing state services like the highway patrol. There was no city water in Las Vegas, and when the power went down in outlying areas, nobody was fixing it now.

Eileen walked from near LA to her grandfather’s home after The Day, with a stop to winter over halfway. She quickly became eager to leave there, chafing under their father’s thumb, and picked Victor Foy over younger men for his substance. She’d left her family early when things had come to a head and walked to Vic’s late the previous fall. One thing she’d made clear to Vic when he first showed any interest in her was that she eventually intended to get off Earth. It was a long term goal from when she was about eleven years old.

“When we go to the Fall Festival I want you to talk to Mr. O’Neil and arrange for him to get me a prescription flown in from Nevada,” Eileen said. She was standing close in front of Vic, her hands on his shoulders. He was sitting on his favorite kitchen chair, which put her eyes just a little higher than his. He’d been reading but sat the book aside when she wanted to talk.

“Feeling poorly?” Victor asked, but he knew better.

“Feeling entirely too good, and you also have that look on your face that says you are tired of being patient and understanding about feeling half married. I’ve grown enough this year that there’s no arguing a pregnancy would be too risky for me. Well, no more than all the other women here in the autonomous zone who don’t have modern medicine like before The Day. But I still have the same goals. I not only want to go to space, but I want to take you with me. I’d be pleased to have children with you – later – out there. If we have to get passage for three or four, my guess is it will never happen.”

“We can try,” Vic said, “My understanding is the doc in Nevada will issue a new prescription against an old pill bottle. I’m not sure he’d send a new prescription for a seventeen-year-old girl he’s never met or had as his patient before.”

“Do you know what the legal age is to marry in Nevada?” Eileen asked.

“Eighteen, without parental consent,” Vic said. “Why? What are you thinking?”

“I could fly to Nevada and return his next trip. I’m easily within his weight limit to take passengers. Both of us are near it. If it’s still business as usual enough to have a pharmacy open or to get a prescription written, it’s worth the trip if there is any way we could pay for it,” Eileen worried. “Is there any way we can convert some of our nuggets or gold dust secretly?”

“No need. If there are drug stores and aviation gas in Nevada they must be doing business normally in dollars,” Vic said. “I have a credit card that hasn’t expired yet. It had no balance and was set up to auto-pay from my bank account. If Chase Bank is still in business in Nevada it should still be active even though it hasn’t been used lately.

“If that doesn’t work, I always kept some cash on hand. I should have enough in twenty and fifty dollar bills to pay for your flight and pills. I always worried the teller system might go down and I wouldn’t be able to get to my money. I just never figured everything would go down so hard that very few people would take cash for anything. I was thinking in terms of a couple of weeks or a month. If there is a branch open I may even get some more cash.”

“Like you kept a few extra rounds of ammunition?” Eileen teased.

“I’ve got somewhere around fifteen thousand dollars in a bank bag in my safe. What I am more concerned about is things may be too normal in Nevada. They may not accept you are an emancipated minor and a married woman and try to declare you at risk and put you in foster care if they have that sort of thing still functioning.”

“I could lie and tell them I’m eighteen,” Eileen said. “That wouldn’t bother me.”

Vic shook his head no, looking unhappy. “You might be in national databases even if your old California records are lost. Sworn statements from our locals that our marriage is notorious and recognized by the community might mean more. Especially from the pilot if he’s well regarded there. We need to discuss it with either O’Neil or his pilot buddy. If they need to make inquiries at the other end we’ll have a couple of weeks until he can report back what it’s possible to do there.”

When Eileen made a face, Vic shrugged. “Thank you, but we’ve waited this long. A couple more weeks won’t kill me.”

Eileen put her arms around his neck and leaned forward nose to nose and forehead to forehead. “Do not assume my concern was for your patience.”

* * *

“This is profoundly disturbing,” Director Schober of the Martian Republic said. “The Centralists brought three large masses and inserted them into a polar orbit, all within about a ten-hour span. They are likely rocky masses going by the signature of the radar returns from Phobos.”

“The Moon Queen said they would have a station,” Director of Safety Liggett reminded him. “Does it interfere with our operations or get too close to the moons? Did they speak to our people or give notice they would be local traffic? Did they even identify themselves?”

“They put it in a much higher polar orbit, and truthfully, it comes nowhere near enough to be a hazard. They never called or acknowledged Phobos Control, but they chatted in the clear while positioning them. Our boys recorded it and sent it down to me.”

“It, or them?” Liggett asked, confused. “Did they string a bunch of rocks along the same orbit or keep them together? We don’t need a ring as a hazard to navigation.”

“They are all three together, but what is alarming is they brought in a rock about a hundred meters across and positioned it. Then they returned in a couple of hours with one almost twice that size. It took the best part of an hour for them to figure out how to bring the second rock up in a trailing approach and then make them touch and stay together. Here, listen to the chatter as they did that.”

Schober played with the screen on his desk, frowning and then leaned back. “Here it is.”

“OK, everybody, rotate one-eighty and let’s see if we are aimed right,” Jeff said.

“Not bad, not bad. Shift 2.377 degrees negative on our tangent line in the orbital plane. We’re closing at 32.483 meters a second, at about fifteen hundred kilometers. Close enough on path to leave it as is. If anybody has any different numbers speak up. Deloris, we will wait for you to be positioned. You have more mass to turn. We are going to do a micro-jump in a hundred twenty seconds from the numbers and computer tick I am giving you, now.”

“I show positioned,” a female voice said.

“So do I. Everybody on auto? Ready?” Jeff asked.

“Aye,” Deloris said.

“Aye,” another male voice said, and there was a silent pause.

“Bingo,” Jeff said.

“Is friggin’ magic,” Deloris said, awe plain in her voice.

“I read closing at 3.121 meters per second,” Jeff said. “I’m hoping that is enough to deform the touching area without any rebound. Back off, in case there is any spalling.”

“When can we bump them together hard enough to get some melting?” Deloris asked.

“When we are playing pool with much bigger balls,” Jeff said. “And it’s never going to be big enough to gravitationally deform to a sphere.”

“Maybe we could bump it with a small snowball hard enough to liquefy the ice. Make some of these gravel balls mud so it is soft and deforms.” Deloris said. “It would boil off or freeze then pretty quickly. You’d have a crust in at most months.”

“You say the most interesting things… Contact! I see a little debris on radar, nothing that should be a problem. I’m betting it isn’t even above escape velocity,” Jeff said.”

“Orbital parameters look good. We can nudge it around with thrusters from time to time if we need to.

“Everybody game to do one more?” Jeff asked. “If we double the diameter we’ll have to be below the horizon from each other and have to coordinate off a relay drone.”

“You made provision for that in the software?” the other male voice asked.

“Yes, it times our signals back and forth to the drone and syncs our clocks,” Jeff said.

“OK, one more,” the male said, “and then we’ll do an after-action and let some others watch it and critique us.”

“Deloris?” Jeff asked.

“I agree with Kurt, let’s do one more trip and a group analysis tomorrow.”

“OK, sending target coordinates. Let’s assemble ten kilometers higher so we don’t bump the rock, and go together just like dragging this puppy.”

“You’re on,” Kurt said.

“Roger.” Deloris agreed.

“I take it they returned with a third rock?” Liggett said.

“Indeed, they vanished off radar very much like their vessels did before and returned with a rock near four hundred meters long, though kind of shaped like a peanut in the shell with a smaller nut in one end. Have you seen those?” Schober asked. He was older and many things he took for granted mystified the men like Liggett from a younger generation.

“Sure, I’ve been to a bar in Texas where you cracked them open and tossed the shells on the floor,” Liggett said.

“They brought it back and had a great deal more trouble because it wanted to tumble. At one point they considered just tossing it away, discarding it into a solar orbit, but eventually nudged it into the other two already together. They seemed a bit surprised and happy it didn’t knock them apart although it closed on them much slower. Do you see why I am concerned?” Schober asked.

“Sure, if they can move a large body around so easily they could probably aim one to drop right on us,” Liggett said.

“Yes, although they already have the ability to wipe us out with one missile with one warhead, this could be used to make it look like an accident. Worse, it’s a big enough weapon to do the same to our allies and Earth nations upon whom we depend,” Schober worried.

“We agreed that would ruin the legitimacy of their claim on the southern polar region. At least this sounds like it is a new thing for them, not a polished skill,” Liggett said.

“For now,” Schober agreed. “Think to the future though. Someday we need to have an equal deterrent to balance them as a threat. The day may come when they have sufficient presence and improvements on their land to have a valid title in the eyes of others without our grant.”

“Creating a moon may aid their claim,” Liggett decided. “Would there be any advantage to leaking this development to Earth?”

“I’m conflicted. The Earth authorities aren’t blind. They must know Central has its own starship technology, yet they say nothing publicly. Our own supporters on Earth might not appreciate us forcing a public discussion. This recording and the radar records suggest they have a technology similar to the French.”

“More advanced than the French,” Liggett insisted. “We don’t see the French moving objects around and showing up various places unexpectedly inside the Solar System.”

“You’re right. And after dealing with the Moon Queen I sense trying to blackmail her over exposing this would be a dangerous undertaking. I see no path to getting weapons that would intimidate her either. Let me think about it. Discuss it with me another time.”

“I have my serious doubts any of the Earthies would sell us nukes if that’s what you mean. Even the richest of our initiates and supporters might balk at helping us there. They do still have to live there for the most part, and there is a considerable sentiment on Earth still to try to limit or jam the nuclear genie back in the bottle,” Liggett said.

“Still, keep it in mind and cultivate any possible sources,” Schober said.

Liggett nodded agreement with a serious expression. He didn’t trust himself to say anything. If Schober did a voice analysis he would be able to see Liggett had reservations. Strong reservations, because the idea of Schober controlling nukes actually scared him far worse than the Moon Queen playing cosmic billiards. She seemed calmly reasonable and sane, but every day he was a little more certain that Director Schober didn’t have all his screws turned down tight.

* * *

Heather didn’t get many requests for a private audience from her landholders. They could speak to her after she held her weekly court, but most were too busy to want to sit through the judicial matters to speak to her. The doors were locked after she started hearing cases and there was no telling how long they would take. That would still be in a public forum if others were waiting for a chance to speak with her. There weren’t many people she’d grant a private meeting without some substantial need for privacy being given in the request. All of that was by design to save her precious time. Most of them communicated with her by text instead of demanding a face to face, which was just fine with Heather.

Several described discussing issues among themselves before having one of their number approach her. She wasn’t offended or suspicious of that. A less confident ruler might have worried about the potential for conspiracy. It just made good sense to her. It probably saved a lot of her time that would be wasted rehashing everything with them one by one. The number of people who were habitually finding something to propose could be counted on the fingers of one hand anyhow. Frymeta Obarzanek was not one of them and had not in her memory ever been the spox to present a group proposal. The family had enough wealth and status to request a private audience. They had never wasted her time in the past so she’d give them the benefit of any doubt at least once.

The whole Obarzanek clan kept to themselves to the point of being reclusive. Heather hadn’t seen Frymeta for some time and she obviously had gotten Life Extension Treatments. When she first walked in, Heather had a momentary disconnect, thinking she’d sent her daughter instead, because the woman now looked so much like her older daughter Yetta. It didn’t help that she had her younger daughter Laja with her. Heather was used to seeing the pair of sisters together. They did most of the clan’s business dealings with the public. It helped Heather clue up on who she was, and not say something stupid, that the woman looked younger now but still wore the same dark clothing as before. An American would have immediately labeled it as ‘old country’. The daughters were both thoroughly modern in their dress, wearing bright colors of a stylish cut.

The clan was one of the bright spots in her domain as far as business activity. They were the first of the landholders to start sinking an elevator big enough to handle freight and they took it all the way up to the surface too. Other owners started their vertical lifts smaller and lower, avoiding any surface exposure for safety. Central had been bombed once and might be again.

“I’m going to have coffee,” Heather informed them. “Would you care for something?”

“That would be fine,” Frymeta said. Her daughter waited on the mother’s response before adding her own, “Please.”

Heather looked over her shoulder getting a nod from her housekeeper that she was on it.

Heather didn’t waste time on ritual chit-chat by asking after their family. For one thing, they had imported so many relatives she’d lost track of their names and relationships. They’d also put a sizable deposit on another lot as far away across Central as possible from their first holding. They had a twenty-year option on that property to redeem it or lose the deposit. Heather didn’t expect them to lose the deposit.

“What can I do for you?” Heather asked and sat back relaxed. She’d learned to do that to signal to people she intended to hear them out and they needn’t rush to get their say in.

“Have you observed we have accumulated a mound of broken rock in the middle of our property?” the Matriarch inquired.

“My engineer, Mo Pennington, mentioned it some time ago,” Heather remembered. “He remarked on it because other landholders are also bringing up material from tunnel boring, but most of them inquired where they could dispose of it. We obtained permission from Robert Lewis to dump them on the south slope of his mountain.”

Frymeta nodded. “That side already has a gentler gradient. I expect in a few years he’ll be able to plow a series of switchbacks up the contributed material and have a road to the top of his holding. I’d charge him if he wanted our fill, but that’s others’ concern if they want to donate it. Once they abandon it there as waste I don’t think anyone would argue they can claw it back should they find it has value or they find a personal use for it after all.”

“I’m sure you are aware that is a source of litigation among the Earthies right now,” Heather said. “Landfills and waste storage are suddenly resources and claimants are trying to regain rights to what they paid to throw away. It’s a mess with much of the trash having been hauled across county or state lines. There is even an international case where New Jersey wishes to mine the ocean floor beyond the national limit where they dumped millions of tons of garbage for decades.”

“I don’t expect any better of the Earthies,” Frymeta said. “We fled North America before we too were reduced to being rag-pickers. Australia is better off, but some of our cousins and Grandfather Blas have joined us from Australia, unsure of their long-range future.”

Heather felt the same but just nodded and stayed silent. As Sovereign, she realized everything she said had an official component to it. She didn’t have the luxury of a completely private opinion except speaking with her partners April and Jeff. Australia was, if not an ally, a trading partner who treated them better than most Earth nations. It would be better if she could not be quoted as viewing them negatively.

“I try to have as light a hand in governance as possible,” Heather claimed. “It’s no concern of mine if you want to build your own mountain. If it gets high enough I assume you will put a radar reflector and a warning light on it. Mr. Lewis did that with his mountain even though it is a natural formation and nobody asked him to do so.”

“So shall we,” Frymeta promised, “and we will stay back from our property line a good margin, so whatever the natural angle of repose turns out to be with our waste it won’t intrude on our neighbor’s property. Have you wondered why we have all this rock?”

“I try to mind my own business and not speculate,” Heather said. “I’m happy you are tunneling like a bunch of demented groundhogs and I assume you are just going to keep excavating your elevator indefinitely.”

It was Frymeta’s turn to nod noncommittally. “We stopped the surface shaft with a break at ten kilometers actually. We’re going to have parallel shafts running from six kilometers down to wherever it gets too hot or the composition of the rock is unfavorable.

We’ve put measures in place to prevent any blast from the surface damaging the parallel shafts. It’s safe from anything short of a ground penetrating nuclear device, coming straight down the center shaft. We put the elevator at the corner of our property to facilitate selling lift services to our adjoining three neighbors. They are welcome to make connector tunnels to our bottom stop as long as they build in certain safety features. Their tunnels must have jog-backs from blast attenuating dead ends and provisions to collapse large sections on command.”

“That seems like sound practices,” Heather agreed.

“Where most of that pile has come from the last couple of lunars is a new shaft on the opposite corner of our property,” Frymeta said. “We are building an elevator six times the area of the old one to be able to carry the largest anticipated rover or a spaceship.”

Frymeta stopped talking and just looked at Heather as if she expected a reaction.

“Did you think I’d object?” Heather asked, surprised. “Knock yourself out. Just because we own a few ships doesn’t mean we’ll regard you as competitors. We’ve never thought of ourselves as primarily freight haulers. I’d be happy if Central were known for ships. It’s too bad we can’t really compete with Home for shipyards because building in zero-g is easier.”

“Who are we?” Laja spoke up for the first time and asked, a little irritated. “I dislike having undefined terms when we are talking business.”

Her mother looked uncomfortable. Heather didn’t usually invoke the pluralis maiestatis unless she was making official public pronouncements. Fortunately, Heather wasn’t full of herself and didn’t think the girl was challenging her sovereignty.

“We, in this case, are Myself, April Lewis, and Jeff Singh,” Heather said. “You can always assume we three support each other without reserve.” Her tone and pausing conveyed the distinction of her Royal Self from this particular ‘We’ perfectly.

“No, I couldn’t assume that,” Laja said. “I just don’t operate on ‘everybody knows’ but now that you have defined it I understand and accept it, thank you.”

“Heather is closer in age to you than me,” Frymeta told her daughter, “but we are both still products of a different culture that was more circumspect in our personal life than in business, where everything must be documented in black and white. You may think that lingering Earth Think but it was the reality in which we were raised.”

“While we are defining things, I think the limits of what is considered Earth Think is expanding, and that trend will probably continue,” Laja said.

“I should have seen that coming. Neither will Earth Think itself stay static, any more than how you regard it. Cultural norms change no matter how authorities try to keep them enforced. Let me explain the background,” Heather told the young woman.

“When we three declared the revolution on Home we did so in secret, fearful to even put a name to our association. To give something a name is to invite discovery. We were already facing the prospect of banishment to Earth. Being named as criminal conspirators would have just added another thing to overcome to ever get back in space. We kept everything secret as a matter of personal safety. We also avoided any public pledges or legal contracts with each other because the majority of those raised on Earth would disapprove. Our own families were a concern that way. April still feels her grandparents are prejudiced and don’t accept Jeff, and Jeff hasn’t had his Earth-side Indian relatives speak to him since the war.”

“What about your family?” Laja asked directly, horrifying her mother.

“My mother is so in your face and unconventional she puts you youngsters to shame,” Heather said. “My brother manages to occasionally shock her.”

“Then I think I’d like to meet them,” Laja said, with obvious sincerity.

“I’ll arrange it if I ever can,” Heather promised. “Besides those concerns about our personal relationships, we each already had our own alliances with other people and could not bring in others into dealing with all three of us without asking. Jeff and I had a relationship with several sets of Moon people. April had agreements with Mitsubishi 3 Security and others. April still has her own extensive intelligence network completely separate from the one we share. All three of us still have businesses in which the other two have no interest. Consider this – we owe shares and royalties between companies both ways. Sometimes we have multiple payments both directions and have to add them all up and see how they cancel out. We pretty much just accept what our accountants tell us. It would be a full-time endeavor to try to track it all personally.

“They are both peers but have a different relationship with my sworn subjects than other peers. It’s a complex mess. If I had to draw a Venn diagram, I don’t know if we could keep it unscrambled for all the overlaps. It’s not exactly like we can or should have to make a public announcement of all those private matters to you or others so that it makes any sense. People find out bits as they need to know them. Consider it an unusual privilege for me to explain the wider picture to you. Your entire family is an important asset to Me.”

Laja looked off to infinity trying to picture it.

“Maybe a multilayer Venns with transparency and irregular shapes,” she speculated. “I never wanted to be an accountant either. I’ll try not to be so judgmental.” That seemed a near apology to Heather.

“What do you want to be?” Heather asked, curious.

“I want to fly starships, and you are going to need pilots before my mom does. I want to train and fly for you. I’m willing to swear to you to do so,” Laja offered.

“How old are you?” Heather asked her.

“I’m sixteen, but I’m still very flexible and trainable,” she hastened to add. “I’m not too old to adapt to big life changes.”

“Believe it or not, my concern ran the other way,” Heather said. “I’m hesitant to swear people to me who aren’t somewhat further along in their development. They may regret having sworn to me later as their tastes and views change. That would be a mess. So far, I haven’t had anyone ask for release from my service.”

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Laja admitted.

“You can ask anything,” Heather said with a dismissive gesture. “I’d rather not worry if somebody wants to leave if they are going to work against me. You do know you can renounce your citizenship in some Earth nations and go elsewhere? Of course, some of them demand a huge fee to do so, if they permit it at all.”

“I have to say, if I’m too young to judge the matter, I still see that older people I trust and respect are happy with you. You are the only politician I’ve never heard anyone say they want to kill.”

“They say that about others?” Heather asked, a bit taken aback.

“Oh my, yes. For example, the USNA President, Wiley, I’ve heard people go on and on about exactly how they would do it. They seem to imagine all sorts of inventive and overly complicated ways to do it. I find it hard to understand how they can dislike somebody that much who they’ve never met.”

“I’ll take that as a reversed way of saying how beloved I am,” Heather said. She looked at the girl’s mother. “Is Laja healthy and smart enough to do pilot work? Is she disciplined enough from what you have seen of her studies and work?”

“I wouldn’t have brought her to speak to you if she wasn’t,” Frymeta said.

“Then this was your employment interview,” Heather said. “You need to get your orbit to orbit ticket and lander license. Once you’ve passed those tests I can get you seat time or call in favors to have other owners get you some hours. You are right in thinking I’m not going to have a hired pilot flying our ships who is not sworn to me, but after you have served your apprenticeship we’ll see how you feel about swearing to me. You could, at that point, have the option to go work elsewhere if you decide you can’t stomach me. You could even go fly for the French who are rumored to have starships. Though the press and Earthie opinion seem to be conflicted on the truth of that,” Heather teased.

“As if anyone would be considered who isn’t a shining example of Gallic heroism,” Laja said. “Grandfather Blas has told me enough horror stories about how his arm of the family ended up in Australia to ever trust my freedom and livelihood to a fickle European nation. I also don’t see them rushing to send anybody out again even though they have a working ship. That doesn’t impress me and I wonder why not? What’s the problem?”

“I suspect they don’t have enough Helium3 to do it again right away. They stepped up the size of this new ship quite a bit, and their fuel infrastructure is still very much in the development stages. It’s going to be a long term bottleneck for them,” Heather assured her.

“Uh-huh, ‘for them’” Laja said. The way Heather said that didn’t slip past her at all. “I believe I’ll stick with you, thank you.”

“Fine, but this is not a guarantee, it’s a chance at piloting for us. For example, you may be sweet as can be to me today, because I have something you want, and turn out to be impossible for my other people to work with. I’ve seen such incompatibilities revealed more than once. Not that you need to make yourself a doormat, but people jammed together in small ships have to get along. I’ll have one of my people tell you some stories about defective personalities in ships that will leave your hair standing on end.”

“Satisfied?” Heather asked and looked back and forth between them.

“That should satisfy her,” Frymeta said. “I came with some requests of my own.”

Chapter 3

April didn’t expect mail from Diana. She usually did a video call or rarely text, but then she saw the header. It was from Hawaii. The lag would drive Diana nuts trying to talk past lag. Diana had no patience at all, and it was a long message. April hadn’t been aware she had returned home.

Just a quick note to say I am home. I was too rushed to pack and make the shuttle to tell you on Home. Your place next door looks fine. You really should use it some time. The new laws guarantee property rights for Haolas, and they don’t try to tax you for income made off the island. I’ll have news I don’t trust to com when I come back. I deposited another one percent fee for the Life Lotto in your account. Thanks again for the idea. Nick asks your permission to have people outside the secure portions of your house. He never asked until he was certain it was safe for you to be associated with him. His position in the now government is Business minister, which promotes commerce and trade. If you have anybody you need to put up while I am gone feel free to use the cubic I’m leasing from Jeff. I’m going to be down here at least a month. Eric is working on a couple of other lotteries for us and I know Sylvia and Lindsey are too wrapped up in work to say hi to you. Be aware all is well with them. Nick did a triple take on me when I showed up with life extension. I underestimated that advantage. That’s all for now, love ya kiddo. – Diana

April smiled at being called kiddo, and was surprised Nick still wanted to be her caretaker if he had a responsible position in the new government. If he was still happy why say anything and give him the idea to get his own place? Not that there was that much to do. The house didn’t require much maintenance. With nobody but him living there it was about like keeping an apartment but paid him a bit to do so instead of being an expense. If it needed a repair he’d hire that at her expense and just watch the workman for security. She wondered what Diana could be afraid to trust to com, but she was given to drama. She’d just have to wait to find out what it was, if anything. April replied to her and copied Jeff into the message:

If he wants to have people in that’s fine. I trust his judgment. Now that there is commercial shuttle service to the islands again I’ll think on visiting sometime. More likely if we can drop unannounced with a freight shipment for security. You be safe. – Kiddo

* * *

Irwin Hall had a very productive meeting in Havana with a number of bankers and investment professionals from South America. None of them was interested in provoking the Giant to their north. Irwin assured them the habitat offering was structured in a company totally divorced from any association with the System Trade Bank or other entities subject to North American sanctions.

Instead of going back to Hawaii, Irwin received a private invitation to have a smaller meeting with some investors in Belgium. They had reasons involving Earth politics for not wanting to be seen with the South Americans with whom he’d just met. That was fine, Irwin didn’t really care about their internal squabbles. He would accommodate them as long as they didn’t require him to publicly disassociate himself from one side and support the other.

Cuba had heavy traffic in hypersonic connections, forbidden in North America for supposedly environmental reasons. That was a big reason they’d met in Cuba, besides a lovely climate, relatively cheap accommodations compared to Singapore or Tokyo, some of the best duty-free rum and whisky in the world. They still made well-regarded cigars even if they were subject to total tobacco bans in a number of countries.

He could get a very quick flight to Brussels and probably just keep going east. He could get connections if not a direct flight to Hawaii in that direction and lift for home. The flight to Brussels was Air France and he had one of the twelve first-class seats at the front. There was only one couch to each side of the aisle in first class. The rear had one seat to a side and two to the other in two staggered sections, with the service bay for drinks and such in the middle. First-class had its own attendants and kitchen even as short as the flight was.

The flight plan had the plane taking off aimed south a bit to avoid the Keys and American airspace. They would build altitude and then turn north past the Keys, accelerating through the transition to a semi-ram engine. The engine intakes closed entirely at about forty thousand meters and ran in rocket mode off internal oxidizers long enough to go ballistic. They would drop back into the atmosphere while passing off the coast of Ireland and make a long gliding supersonic turn to the South East over the North Sea, going subsonic before crossing the coast of the Netherlands lined up to land at Brussels.

The attendant offered Irwin a mini-quiche and champagne or a freshly prepared sandwich if he was hungrier. He declined and asked for coffee. The eighteen seats in the rear had to make do with pre-mixed drinks or soda, and bag nuts or pretzels.

The coffee was served in a delicate handled-cup, but its appearance was deceiving. It was a glassy ceramic that would not shatter and produce shards that might injure someone. At least it wouldn’t if you didn’t have a hydraulic press or an anvil and heavy hammer handy.

Irwin took a sip and was pleased with it when there was a jarring >WHAM<. The cup flew off his serving tray and splashed the coffee up the left bulkhead. The hypersonic slewed clockwise so hard it thrust Irwin’s head went down against his left shoulder and then it decelerated so hard his chin went against his chest and his arms went out straight in front of him. He was belted in securely. The crew made sure the passengers stayed that way until they went ballistic, just in case something like this happened. The cabin crew were not all so fortunate and several of them were injured severely.

The first-class seats were in pods, and the top of Irwin’s pod came down like a clamshell and locked closed. Emergency lighting from under the seat illuminated it indirectly.

There were rumblings and pitching motions, then a long hard turn to the left.

“This is your Captain. We lost our starboard engine and shut both down. We are already cleared to land straight in at Miami, which is easily within our glide range. I’ll announce when we are on approach. We expect an orderly exit without hazard on the ground aided by airport personnel.

Well, that was interesting. Irwin never intended to so, but he was going to have an opportunity to test the free travel provisions of Home’s on again – off again treaty with North America. He sent a text to Jeff and Eddie, then canceled his Brussels meetings.

* * *

Laja did the same thing Heather had when they arrived. She sat back in her seat relaxed now that the part of their meeting she was concerned with was over. It signaled that she wouldn’t interfere with the discussion between Heather and her mother, Frymeta. Heather wondered if she was already that polished and poised at sixteen or if she had learned the trick just now from watching her?

“Do you have any objection to my engineer, Mo, coming by and talking to your guys about excavating your elevator?” Heather asked.

“Do you think he’ll have suggestions?” Frymeta asked her.

“Knowing Mo, he may think of something, but my original thought was actually that he might learn what problems you’ve had to solve so we don’t have to repeat them ourselves.”

“Sure, send him over. Once we have it built, we might even hire to do them for others if you’d be interested. You’re always saying there’s too much to do for too few people.”

“Thanks. What did you want to discuss for yourself?” Heather asked Frymeta.

“Laja wants to fly starships. I want my family to own ships. That’s why the elevator is being made. We wouldn’t consider investing in ships parked in an open field exposed to the sky and attack. If we are limited to local service, we still want ships, and if they must be local we still want to run them under your flag, not Home’s. But, I’m seeking to be in line when you license others to build starships.

“We’ve never said we have starships,” Heather protested.

“It’s about the worst kept secret on the Moon, and I notice you didn’t deny it. Several Earth governments have a long history of concealing their most advanced generation of aircraft. They refused to talk about them, but people still have eyeballs. They not only saw them but there were inexplicable radar sightings. Their sonic booms even registered on seismographs. Similarly, your ships have requested traffic clearance with no rational destination or flight path but ‘out there’. Then the same craft would be seen coming back on an impossible flight heading far outside the performance envelope of any known ship.”

“If you say so,” Heather said, noncommittally.

“I do. I also expect the Earthies not to push recognition of that for their own self-interest. I understand if you wish to avoid making claims to make it easier for them to ignore it. Just don’t expect your subjects to play silly security theatre games when they are talking to you. If there are others ahead of us in line, just tell me so. We’ll drop the matter until you have satisfied any other obligations.”

“I’m not saying anything yea or nay,” Heather said. “I need to talk with my partners, and they have others they may need to consult about whom to bring into our programs. We don’t have any opposing obligations, but the matter is complex and I’ll have to get back to you. Don’t neglect anything sitting by the com, waiting for a quick reply. Also, be aware that becoming insiders to a lot of our peer programs have as many obligations as privileges. Do you have any other requests?”

Frymeta nodded acknowledgment of that. “Yes, of course, and very likely you will need to discuss this next request with your partners too. We are aware you are stockpiling the various elements of regolith with good isotopic purity. We’ve given that some thought in light of the published composition of regoliths. When you have sufficient of it separated we’d very much like to purchase as much as one hundred kilograms of both natural uranium isotopes, and a quantity of thorium, with a mind to arming our planned ships. I can satisfy you we have the expertise to be trusted with it. Consider all that as you are able, please. I am aware we are not the only ones making demands on your time.”

“Like you, I have plenty to keep me busy,” Heather said. Frymeta took that for a dismissal, and got up to leave. She did appear satisfied, not unhappy.

Heather appreciated she didn’t expect an immediate answer. There was a lot there to think about. She’d need her partners’ input and maybe from some others.

* * *

“The farmer, O’Neil, is supposed to be at the Fall Festival,” Vic said. “He was there last year but not in the spring. Mr. Mast informed me he was sick and didn’t want to travel. He does well enough off his store on his front porch he doesn’t have to set up at the festival.

“We have to pick up our salt and arrange for Mast to store the most part of it there. I’m hoping we can arrange for him to inquire of his pilot friend and then pass us a message at the end of the news on the radio net about what he was able to arrange.”

“I’ve always thought those sounded silly at the end of the broadcast,” Eileen said, “like a cheesy spy novel. “I certainly never thought we’d be using them. How can you make sure you can say everything you need to?”

“I’ll give O’Neil a long sheet with alternate codes. We can’t hear him directly here but he can give them to the broadcaster to relay. You can look at it,” he invited Eileen, “and add what you think is necessary. I have the key to our message being ‘Grandma says’. If we don’t need to go and the doc will send a prescription without seeing you he’ll say, ‘Grandma will have a package for you. If it is totally safe for both of us to go, and what date, he’ll say Grandma is baking x number of pies. ‘Grandma is baking a cake’ is for if it is safe just for you to go alone, and ‘the cake fell in the oven’ for if there are legal problems with getting you to see the doctor. If there might be problems with your status as a minor he’ll say ‘grandma was short on sugar’. If there is no problem with my bank being in operation he’ll say ‘we’ll have biscuits too’. If he says nothing they are closed.

“It’s going to be awfully close to the snow starting,” Eileen said. “Maybe you should add ‘Grandma may take roomers’ if he isn’t sure we can get a return flight before the snow to get home safely. Also, I’m not happy with this being on a physical list. We still have robbers and such. When you talk to him tell him that if he names Grandma, like Grandma Johnson it means the whole thing is off for some reason, and don’t write that down. How much does it cost to have these messages tacked on?”

“It’s like everything else now,” Vic said, “barter for what ya got. Mr. Mast will inquire what the radio guy needs and I’ll fulfill something from the list. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

Eileen’s face changed as she had a sudden thought.

“We’re wealthy, aren’t we? I mean, even without the panned gold that’s too dangerous to use right now.”

“Isn’t that why you married me?” Vic asked, feigning puzzlement.

Eileen suggested another reason.

“As if... You didn’t have any way to know that,” Vic insisted.

* * *

“I can’t risk one of my fusion generators in this kind of an application,” Jeff insisted. “It seems like a wonderful match, but by its nature, it would be subject to capture. We already have lost one ship to insider theft that triggered the self destruct mechanism. I suppose you know I bombarded another ship to deny it to the Chinese who stole it, rather than let them reverse engineer it.”

Otis Dugan made a snort through his nose like a startled horse. “Who doesn’t know that story?” he asked rhetorically. “No way to cover up a crater you can see from orbit. Thanks for talking to me. I’ll just have to wait until some other tech matures and I can get a power source that is light enough and has sufficient power density. I was pretty sure from what is known about your ships your tech could do that, but I understand your security concerns.”

Otis made a move to pick up the samples he’d put on the table to show Jeff.

“Wait a moment before you give up entirely,” Jeff said, making a forestalling gesture. “I can’t risk a fusion generator, but we have an energy storage device that should suffice for your application. We already put them at risk on unmanned satellites and other applications where we won’t risk the generators to capture. They are much smaller, lighter, and easier to protect against theft. But you can’t just refuel them to keep them operating and they can only be recharged so quickly with any safety. I’m guessing you might run something like this suit a week on a small one, but not months. This is a very attractive package. I’d like to hear more about it.”

“It’s nothing startlingly new,” Otis said. “We have all sorts of armor and powered suits. Some just let a foot soldier carry more, the sort of a rig he backs into and carries the load of a pack. They attach at the hip and foot and can be ditched with one command almost instantly if they bust or run out of juice. At the other end of the spectrum, you have hard shell space armor that is totally enclosed and rigid, but it is a bear to get out of if it is powered down. If it is damaged and powered down, figure you are screwed if you aren’t in the repair shop.

“There have been so many improvements in materials, and short-run fabricating has gotten so much cheaper, we think we can economically build a combat suit of armor that can stop just about all small arms and augment a person’s strength and endurance.”

“This material is what my lady April wore down to Earth a few years ago,” Jeff said, picking it up and feeling it. “Back then it was in the prototype stage and they weren’t selling it even to other spacers.”

“But they let you buy a made-up garment, not a fabric sample?” Otis asked, surprised.

“Yes, a hooded jacket that could be pulled down into a tunic almost to the knees. They were very concerned that it not be captured back then, but it was a tech for tech trade, not a purchase. Do you have the genetic enhancements to increase strength?” Jeff asked.

“Yes, and I don’t know anybody working security who hasn’t bought that. That’s a factor too, because we’re strong enough now to carry the suit if it breaks down or loses power. The armor function still works without power and the semi-rigid backing material spreads the blunt force better than just the fabric layer. It isn’t difficult now to create a joint that can disengage so it doesn’t drag or lock up and hinder you if powered down, so it’s just the dead weight, which is negligible.”

“I’d rather hear a hard number than ‘negligible’,” Jeff said.

“Sixteen kilograms for the suit, plus whatever your power unit adds, plus another four kilograms for the helmet and gear in it,” Otis said.

“That seems like a lot to carry on your head,” Jeff said. “I’m worried about whip-lash and fatigue with that much mass carried on your neck.”

“It’s supported by a brace from the suit, that’s about a third of the four-kilo weight,” Otis said. “If you do go into a powered down mode then it is a hazard, but not having the use of your suit in an environment where you need it is a hazard all by itself. If you need extended time in vacuum it’s configured totally differently you’ll add a few kilos for a rebreather. If you are in a hazardous atmosphere or deep underwater this suit isn’t going to hack it. You’ll need a specialized suit we haven’t even tried to design yet, with much better seals and external pressure capabilities.”

“The thing about my power source is if it got a direct hit from a big enough weapon it could discharge its remaining power all at once,” Jeff said. “Or if it was captured I’ve made sure it will self destruct when forced open. It is much smaller and simpler than my fusion power generator and I have high confidence it won’t be cracked. But you don’t want to be within a kilometer if it is triggered.”

“What would it take, an anti-tank weapon?” Otis asked. “If you get hit with that you’ll be dead anyway and hardly care if your suit self-destructs.”

Jeff smiled. “Yes, but what if it hits the guy next to you?”

“Those are the kinds of trade-offs and calculated risks you take in combat,” Otis said. “In a decade or two they will probably have enough data to know how good a trade it was, and by that time it will all be obsolete and not matter anymore.”

Jeff nodded. “You are dispassionate about risk assessment. That’s a rare quality.”

Otis shrugged. “In arms, if you just keep doing what has always worked you’re going to be the guy who demonstrates it doesn’t work anymore. Military history is littered with people who were prepared to fight the previous war all over again.”

“How many of these units do you think you will need to be made?” Jeff asked.

“Mackay’s outfit would take eight of them and I need six minimum. The way prototyping is done now you need to do three before the price comes down a little. Fourteen units will get a little better price, but it’s a sharp curve. Twenty-five units will really see the cost curve drop hard. I was hoping you might see a need to order a few yourself,” Otis admitted.

“That’s a possibility. I need to talk to my people, to Heather in particular. She may want some for Central Security. Will they have to be custom fitted?” Jeff asked.

“No, they will be adjustable in a wide range. Our cad design was based on the suit fitting Gunny with a five percent margin.”

“That should fit the ninety-ninth percentile of body sizes,” Jeff said, laughing, “or a male Mountain Gorilla.”

Jeff’s pad interrupted him with a repeated ding. He had it set off to all but the highest priorities. He raised his eyebrows in surprise and apologized to Otis. “I have to take this, I’m sorry. It’s set for only a half dozen people to be able to call me.”

April was glaring out of the screen at him angry, which was unusual and upsetting. The wall behind her told Jeff she was still on the Moon.

“The North Americans have Irwin,” she said right away. “His hyper out of Havana had mechanical trouble and had to shut down and glide back to Miami. He’s on the ground there now and I’m trying to find out what is going on.”

“I see you are upset,” Jeff said gently, “but it may be a bit premature. The North Americans will probably just put them back on a conventional jet, return them to Havana and he’ll just catch a later hypersonic to Hawaii.”

“He changed his schedule,” April said. “He was headed to Belgium.”

“OK, that makes more sense,” Jeff said. “If he was headed back to Hawaii he’d have been pointed at Central America because they jog south to avoid overflying Mexico. They’d have probably ended up in Honduras unless there is somewhere that could handle them on the Yucatan, which would be the same problem basically. I’m just glad he’s down. There haven’t been many hypersonics actually crash. At that speed, if something goes bad they break up from the aerodynamic forces and by the time they reach the ground they are in such small pieces they look like a cloud of chaff on radar.”

“There’s that,” April admitted. “I asked Chen to alert his contacts we’d love some information if it isn’t forthcoming in the news channels. The straight stuff if the public feed is the usual empty blather. I don’t trust them,” she snarled.

“We still have every expectation of free passage. We’ve been constant in that,” Jeff said. “Perhaps the new coalition government will be friendlier since they don’t have to posture for each other. If the current officeholders have flip-flopped to the off setting they do so at their own considerable peril. I’ve made war on China, and you slapped North America’s hands for shooting at me. If that was not sufficiently instructive you are welcome to tutor them on how to treat Home citizens. I’d specifically ask Chen to inquire of Jan. He won’t take payment, but sometimes informing us, leaking really, serves his purposes. You have the weapon keys and I totally support you. I just ask you to give them a chance to show some sense before you slap them again, and don’t yell or make a fuss about it. It lacks dignity. Just state your case calmly as you did before.”

Otis looked worried. The fact Jeff said it with no heat at all worried him more than the anger he heard in April’s voice. He wasn’t the first to wonder if Jeff was ‘all right’.

“Don’t worry,” he heard April say,” I just let loose and show my feeling talking to you, but I’ll let them make it clear they are being jackasses before I say a word, and when I do, I will be the Frosty Ice Queen,” she promised.

“That’s good,” Jeff said, “just channel Heather handing down high justice at her weekly court. The softer she speaks the worse the condemned realize they have stepped in it. I expect then that you will be joining me here. We might even need to go in past L1 if we need to get the command lag time down short enough. Five seconds is forever managing a space battle. I’ll see you in a couple of days then. Love you.”

“In just a few hours, if things move too fast, but yeah, soon. Love you too.”

Jeff looked up from the disconnected conversation. “Thank you for your patience. I wish we had these suits in service and everybody trained on them. If they imprisoned Irwin Hall it would be much easier to go in and take him back with ten or twelve armored up security than any lever we have on them right now.”

“That would be a scary operation,” Otis said. “I’m pretty sure we could do it, but it wouldn’t be a clean surgical extraction. I’m not even sure enough people would sign on for it. You’d have to pretty much peel their jail open and shoot anybody who got in your way. You might do more damage and casualties leaving than going in if they got reinforcements in place behind you fast enough. I can see where we might have to lay down suppressive fire for kilometers around, in a dense urban area, just to get back out. It’s basically a hostage situation and there’s always the chance they’d kill Irwin before they’d let him go, or it can happen easily enough by chance in the fighting. I’d advise against it if there’s any other way.”

“You could take out half of Miami and it would still be a moderate action compared to what April would do if they get really stubborn about releasing Irwin. I really do hope we don’t have to see that,” Jeff said.

Otis nodded. Normally he’d be pitching a sale of services to somebody who might need security work, even if it bordered on mercenary action, but he really didn’t want to drop into the heart of a major North American city and extract a prisoner. Not even wearing this new armor and with the kind of resources that Jeff had to back him up.

Jeff looked thoughtful. “Do you intend any licensing restrictions? Can I sell extra units as used or surplus and know you will service them or provide CAM files to do so?”

“I’m not even sure this will be an actual business line for us,” Otis said. “We just want the equipment for our own use and nobody is making it.”

“It may start a small market but I think you are underestimating the potential,” Jeff said. “I want them too, so I will send you files for the power storage unit interface within the hour. You can add that data to the mounting location to plan the correct power management interface. I’ll commit to fifteen units. If Heather doesn’t want them I’ll find some way to make them pay for themselves. I’ll rent the damn things out by the hour if I have to.”

Otis looked shocked at that idea, but agreed. “They’ll be in fabrication next shift.”

* * *

O’Neil, the farmer with a sundries store on his porch, was at the fall festival as Vic and Eileen hoped. They made arrangements so easily it worried Victor that he might have forgotten something. O’Neil insisted their codes seemed to cover everything that might reasonably happen and didn’t want any upfront payment. He figured Vic could take care of that with the pilot on the Nevada end. Whatever their private arrangements for fee sharing Vic didn’t care or feel it his place to ask.

O’Neil seemed to be taking more custom orders than actually selling goods he’d brought. He had over the counter medications, playing cards, toothbrushes, tiny sewing kits that didn’t impress Vic much, and some impractical luxury goods that Vic and Eileen were amazed to see sell very well. Really, who needed lipstick or kitchen sponges? On the other hand, they bought vitamin C pills and a box of the larger size Band-Aids themselves. O’Neil was the only seller they saw who was happy to take USNA dollars instead of barter. Though between price increases in the outside world and the added costs for flying things in, the dollar prices seemed ruinous.

The festival was bigger than the year before. Vic had .22 cartridges in payment for the salt he’d ordered in the spring. Those were given over to Mr. Mast to broker for them. He’d be storing most of the salt and Vic intended to limit his load to carry home to twenty kilograms, and that much only because he had a garden wagon to carry it.

The Burks had arrived late in the day the previous year and then been ambushed on the way home. That had gone disastrously bad for the ambushers, but they’d taken damage to their wagon tires and had to cut and consolidate it to a two-wheel cart. They must have run later getting back home than arriving. Still, they seemed so resourceful Vic expected them to make some sort of transport to return and deliver his order.

Vic sold some more nails and glass jars they dug up and cleaned from the old trash dump with years of accumulation at the ranch. It was a dry enough climate that about one in three old mayonnaise or jam jars had a usable lid once cleaned up, but they kept the regular canning jars for themselves. Apparently- when the previous generation at the farm stopped canning they just discarded the jars in the trash as they emptied them. They saw some Mason jars for sale at the festival but people wanted far more than they’d pay. Eileen was starting to appreciate they had so much old stuff at Vic’s ranch that they were well to do. They had both a trash gully to mine and years of junk never cleared away from the attic and storage rooms.

They bought a roast chicken from the same fellow who sold them before and split it. That was a real treat, and the smoky flavor was wonderful. Vic paid double to get one seasoned with a dry rub. The spice had to be from outside the zone, so it was expensive.

So many people together made more noise than they were used to now. Besides the talking, people were moving things around, cooking, and there was a trio playing instruments for tips with just occasional breaks. Suddenly it got quieter and then louder with voices. Vic stood up to see if it was a hazard and everybody seemed to be looking the same direction. The crowd got quieter again and he could hear something surprising, the sound of a motor vehicle. It was strange after so long. He’d forgotten how loud they were.

The crowd that rushed to see it parted and allowed this marvel to come in and park. It was an ancient pickup truck with the metal box and bed on the back replaced by a flat wooden bed. Probably a collector vehicle somebody kept for special parades and shows. What it ran on and where they got the fuel was an interesting question. Vic wasn’t even sure of the vehicle’s year, sometime in the previous century for sure. The salt sellers had learned from last year’s ambush and had a heavy steel plate hanging on each side to protect the rear wheels. The front wheels, needing to turn, would have been difficult to protect that way, so they bolted a round armor plate like an over-sized hub cap on the front wheels. It would have been unworkable at highway speeds before The Day, but given the condition of the roads, and the need to conserve fuel, Vic doubted they ever got much above forty-five kilometers an hour. His estimate of their mechanical ingenuity went up several notches.

However, his opinion of their business acumen went down when Mr. Mast hunted them down and motioned Vic and Eileen to the side where he could have a quiet word with them.

“Your salt is delivered, but the Burks brothers asked me to request you not to sell salt at the festival in competition with them. They revealed you put the biggest advance order in and they’re concerned now you might repackage it in smaller lots and hurt their retail prices.”

“Were they making delivery contingent on my agreeing?” Vic asked. Eileen had never seen that expression on his face before and didn’t want to see it again.

“I didn’t want to know so I didn’t ask,” Mast said. “If they broke their contract I’d have no choice but to banish them from my property and the festival. That wouldn’t mean much. They could just set up down the road a piece and it would hurt me as much as them to start breaking up and spreading the festival out. But I’d make an enemy and do it. The real harm would be I’d tell folks why they were banished and that would kill any new advance orders. I’m afraid they are a little full of themselves and think they have a unique advantage. There have to be other salt licks out there people haven’t used for years. If they start playing games thinking they have a lock on the market folks will start asking and hunting for them.”

“Tell them I never had any intention of selling it, but I might make small gifts of it to important friends,” Vic said.

“You don’t want me to say anything about honoring contracts?” Mast asked.

“No, if they only implied they wouldn’t deliver they could get all huffy and complain that I assumed they were oath breakers. I strongly suspect that’s what they intended, but I can’t prove it without stirring up more trouble for both of us than I care to. If that was their intent anything I said would just be a cheap jab to make me feel better. If their mama didn’t teach them to be honest, I doubt I’m going to change them at this late date,” Vic said.

“You’ve got good sense,” Mast said, nodding. “I’ll go assure them.”

Vic made a restraining gesture. “I also want to put in an identical order for the next festival,” Vic said. “I can’t get the salt I want by getting in a big argument with them, even if I’m irritated with them. But since they revealed I was their biggest customer they aren’t in any position to impose new terms or try to run the price up on me.”

“So, the same quantity and same payment as before?” Mast asked.

“Yes, unless they will accept a lower price for a bigger purchase,” Vic said. “If they try to run the unit cost up counter with that as an offer, but nothing better. I’ll have O’Neil fly me in enough for table salt before I let them think they have a monopoly and can rip us off.”

Mast looked dubious but didn’t argue. It took long enough Vic thought the deal fell through, but when Mast came back he nodded yes, once, while too far away to speak. “Same deal as before,” he confirmed when he got up close.

The Festival went well as far as Vic was concerned, but this year they left early instead of late. If they flew to Nevada he intended to buy some light items there rather than order them delivered. Walking home it seemed so odd to see occasional tire tracks on places where the sand and dirt had flushed across the pavement. Now they’d wait for their coded message.

Chapter4

Irwin Hall expected trouble. There was the faint possibility the North American authorities would just put them on a subsonic back to Cuba and make the whole thing a non-event. He just couldn’t remember the last time they’d ever done anything that smart.

He had time to consider what he would say, and decided the less he said the better. He’d keep the conversation focused on the same narrow theme. It would be interesting to see just how valuable Jeff Singh regarded him. Was he primarily a business associate or a friend? Jeff didn’t always follow social conventions yet he didn’t seem the defective sort without empathy, who couldn’t relate to other people’s feelings. If he was on the autistic spectrum it was a very subtle case.

Irwin didn’t have any hope that the Assembly would meet in a special session and make any decision of benefit to him. If it did meet and consider what to do it might very well declare war on North America again over their on-again, off-again attitude toward their treaty obligations. He doubted that would be any help to him personally at all. He would effectively be a prisoner of war even though not a combatant in any sense. If there was any help coming for him he expected it to be from Jeff and his ladies. He’d appeal to his status as a citizen of Home and refuse to acknowledge there was any legal case possible. It was a diplomatic level problem and he’d refuse legal representation and disavow it if it was appointed for him.

Irwin was guaranteed freedom of movement through North America by treaty, and to have his own law applied to him transiting North American territory, even if there was very little firm Home law to apply. Mostly they ran on custom. He had no right of silence under Home law and a stubborn silence might be interpreted as guilt, so he would talk to them, but they might not like what he had to say. Irwin took a deep breath and sighed, content he was as well prepared mentally as it was possible to be.

The landing itself was anticlimactic. They touched down as smoothly as normal and turned off on a taxiway. Irwin could not see why they stopped out on the tarmac instead of going to a terminal. Then it occurred to him that it would be easier to arrest him privately rather than in front of crowds of travelers and possibly news people at the terminal.

A lift bus came out and docked against their exit door. The crew got on the speaker system and warned them to stay seated. Irwin could hear some commotion in the back where apparently some passengers weren’t obeying their commands. Four uniformed officers got on and surprised Irwin by walking right past him. They had on soft armor but they weren’t all kitted up with long weapons, hard plates, and visors.

It was several minutes before the noise level went down in the back and they came back past Irwin with a man in cuffs. He had on the sort of mouth and nose cover they put on prisoners to prevent spitting, and one of the officers was carrying the man’s suit coat and tie. Another had a small carry-on that must be his. The fellow’s shirttails were hanging out in the back like they’d searched him pretty thoroughly.

Irwin thought maybe he was clear, but after the police exited with their prisoner the bus still didn’t pull away. Irwin took video with his spex of the police entering and then passing with their prisoner, but when he tried to send it to Jeff there was no network access. That meant the area was in active denial. Unless the window ports were made of some special material he should be able to get a satellite link. Even if it wasn’t good enough to stream video he should be able to use a slower connection for text. It couldn’t even do that.

The bus still hadn’t pulled away and another pulled up keeping a distance until the first one had room to back away. Irwin was glad he had a port side seat and could see what was going on. After some minutes went by a new group came out of the still connected transport. They were in suits, with ID clipped to the breast pocket or hanging on a neck cord. Only two of them passed him and stopped. They didn’t bother to display weapons but they did bracket him. Where was he going to run, to the back of the plane?

“Irwin Hall? The older man in front inquired. He had a packet of hard print in his hand.

“Yes, ‘tis I,” Irwin replied.

The man blinked slowly, apparently taking a moment to process the unfamiliar reply.

“We have warrants for your arrest Sir, are you armed?”

“I have an antique penknife about as long as your little finger in my wallet,” Erwin said.

“All your personal items will be bagged and sealed in processing,” the man said, looking amused. Apparently, he didn’t expect Irwin to dig the tiny knife out and attack him.

“Who is ‘we’?” Irwin inquired. “What agency and authority is arresting me?”

“I am agent Wyre of the Secret Service acting on behalf of the Treasury Department. The two gentlemen behind you are with the IRS enforcement division. The warrant for your arrest is copied on the top document, and the charges are on the attached sheets,” Wyre said, thrusting them at Irwin.

“Well that will give me something to read in custody,” Irwin said, taking them. “If you cuff my hands behind me it will be rather hard to read them.”

“You are not considered a flight risk or expected to offer us violence,” Wyre said, “We have discretion about how to make an arrest the local police don’t have.”

“Shall we be off then?” Irwin asked. “All these other people are waiting on us to clear out so they can resume their journey. No need to be rude to them.”

Wyre nodded, expecting an objection at some point, but Irwin wasn’t interested in expending the emotional energy or giving them an excuse to be harsher. This was simply a hired thug who had no say or personal interest in why he was arresting Irwin.

When they got on the bus the other person arrested was sitting towards the rear with his hands cuffed behind the seat and a strap across the chest holding him from leaning forward. They’d even taken the precaution of shackling his feet. Whoever he was, they did expect him to be a danger. The mask he had on didn’t cover his eyes and he tracked Irwin, probably wondering who he was. Irwin thought about asking for what the fellow was wanted, but decided anything he said would be over analyzed and a needless complication.

* * *

“In paid announcements, Josh Werner is looking for a person experienced in the care and breeding of horses. He offers room, board, and shares on sales of excess stock. In coded communications: Grandma is baking twenty-four pies, if she bakes eight she may have to take roomers, she’ll have biscuits too. Well, that’s more interesting than most of these messages, isn’t it folks? Goodbye until tomorrow night, and don’t forget to charge up!”

“I think our message had him salivating,” Vic said.

“Can we be ready to go on the twenty-fourth?” Eileen worried. “He obviously feels the eighth of next month might be pushing the season.”

“I don’t see why not. Tommy Ward is back from his summer job and is going to house sit for us. He’ll have our radio to talk to Arnold. He’s supposed to call every day at sundown. He’s interested in Pearl and it wouldn’t surprise me if she comes up here and stays with him,” Vic said.

“Arnold would allow that?” Eileen said surprised.

“He’s as practical about it as he was with us getting married,” Vic said. “He said the kid knows how to work and has his head screwed on straighter than he did at that age.”

“Well yeah, before The Day people had a little more leeway to act young and stupid without consequences. They could put off growing up,” Eileen said.

“True, and Pearl knows how to shoot. I think he’d feel better with her being here than Tommy being alone. I said that was fine with me because he wouldn’t be tempted to slip off to see her and leave the place empty for ‘just a little bit’,” Vic said.

“Are we going to camp out, like we did at the festival?” Eileen wondered.

“Mast’s place is close enough to halfway I’m hoping he will let us stay in his barn. If not we can do the woods like before. But I’ll have to leave most of my gear and rifle at O’Neil’s to retrieve when we come back from Nevada.

“Sounds like a plan,” Eileen agreed.

* * *

The lift bus backed up and dropped to a normal level for safe movement. It didn’t go to any building but rather to an open area of pavement where other vehicles were waiting for them. They followed a last on first off order with his escorts taking him to a limo with a driver. A regular sedan would have been crowded with five adults. The glass partition also separated him from the driver who was using voice commands with the traffic system. The car took off on automatic control, but Irwin was surprised to see the driver sat attentive ready to take over. His spex were still blocked from any contact, and they trusted that denial system so much they hadn’t bothered to take them away. Irwin couldn’t see any advantage to waiting so he initiated the wipe of his pads and spex with eye commands. He marked their reliance on net suppression as something he’d tell Jeff and his ladies about as a particular vulnerability. He was pretty sure it would be a dangerous assumption to make with them. He seemed to remember they’d tried that with April and it hadn’t worked.

The Federal detention center was right downtown and closer than Irwin expected. He was used to airports being further removed from the city center. He was issued plain prison clothes and his belongings put in several envelopes of the special strong paper that couldn’t be torn by hand. It wasn’t any surprise to him when the papers with which the Secret Service agent had served him were demanded and sealed in his property envelope. The jailor asked him if he followed any religious dietary restrictions. He was tempted to claim he followed Kosher because it might get him better food but resisted the temptation.

In defiance of all logic, now that he was in the belly of the beast, deep inside a Federal prison, they cuffed him to walk him to his cell. It was at least warm. If anything, a little too warm, and clean. The air even had a slight antiseptic scent, and the fixtures were all the normal modern jail built-ins impossible to damage or misuse by hand. A stainless toilet and similar stainless hand sink with hidden supply and drain pipes projected out of the wall. A remote sensor faucet and drinking fountain were like something from a crime video. The bed was a cantilever shelf in the corner with a tough textured plastic pad that had little give. There was a screen of some sort, off the unsupported end of the bed, but no keyboard or visible camera looking at him. Of course, it could be a touch screen, and a camera could easily be hidden in the beveled edge of the screen. It was a blank unlit gray for now.

There was nowhere else to sit in the room except the toilet so Irwin made himself comfortable on the bed, sitting to the back so he could lean on the wall. He took the pause in activity to review everything that had happened and think about it. They hadn’t asked him about any special health problems or if he was taking medications. Perhaps they assumed having Life Extension Therapy negated the need for that. It didn’t, but there was a lot of ignorance about what it could and couldn’t do.

He sat until he got stiff and got up, walked around the cell, stretched, and emptied his bladder. The whole thing was tiring and when he leaned against the wall again he was able to drift off and get a little nap. An electronic bell-tone woke him. It repeated twice, louder each time, until he not only opened his eyes but turned and looked at the screen now lit up and showing a face.

“Your dinner tray has been delivered,” the guard said. “It should be returned by when the slot opens again in a half-hour. New detainees are advised that no new meal will be provided until the old tray is returned. If a tray is returned uneaten three times it is regarded as an undeclared hunger strike.” The screen went back to gray with no questions invited.

Well, that was interesting, they did monitor him. The tray was stainless steel with rolled round edges and corners that couldn’t chip the screen or cut into the bed mat easily. It stuck out of the slot and if he didn’t take it he assumed it would be withdrawn at the half-hour. There was no drink provided so they must expect you to use the fountain built in the hand sink. Dinner was three tacos made with corn tortillas, filled with an orange mix of what might be textured vegetable protein. If it had some actual meat, that was hard to say. There were twin scoops of soggy rice tinted a different hue of orange than the taco filling, and what North Americans called refried beans. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean fried as in having actual fat, it meant cooked until it broke down into a uniform gray paste, then over-cooked until it was thick and dry to the taste. It wasn’t very appealing.

Irwin knew he had to maintain his health and strength, so he needed to eat. The taco turned out to have a half slice of tomato hidden beneath the filling. There was no heat or spiciness to it at all. A dab of sour cream or guacamole would have added some flavor to make it a lot more palatable. He managed one taco and moved on to the beans and rice. The spoon he was given was so soft it was hard to pick up rice on it without it dropping and spilling the food back on the tray. Irwin contented himself with scraping the filler out and using the tortilla to pick up the beans and rice. Mindful of the warning about returning too much food he dumped the discarded taco filling in the toilet, which dutifully flushed itself. If that was prohibited or even noticed nobody came back on the wall screen to tell him.

Irwin dutifully pushed the tray back in the slot to be removed. About half-way in a power feed grabbed the tray and pulled it the rest of the way through. He returned to the bed and assumed the same position as before, burping occasionally from the odd food and managed to sleep eventually.

When he woke he had to use the toilet and had lost all feeling for how much time had passed. The lighting was constant, and he decided enough time had passed to demonstrate it was never dimmed. The slot opened and delivered what was a breakfast visually, confirming his theory about the light and the passage of time. Breakfast was oatmeal in the center pocket of the tray, two slices of thick toast with canary yellow ‘butter’, and a strange fruit bar of chopped citrus and raisins, unlike anything he’d ever had. It wasn’t as awful as supper.

* * *

Tommy was installed in the house and invited to eat anything they had on hand. Vic seemed to assume he could cook, and Eileen hadn’t seen any hesitation or dismay like he might not be able to handle that. Vic encouraged him to stay inside and not venture out as that exposed him much more to ambush or raiders. He suggested burning a small fire in the stove even if it wasn’t that cool to let people know the house was occupied.

Eileen wasn’t sure if Tommy was older or younger than her. He looked about seventeen but she didn’t want to ask for fear she’d be thought critical. She had to admit he was likely a good catch for Pearl compared to just about every young buck she’d seen around here. He was nothing to compare to Vic however. When she thought of Tommy she thought – boy – and when she thought of Vic she thought – man. Vic left the gun safe open for him and again didn’t question his ability. She hoped he was right.

“What are we paying Tommy?” Eileen asked.

“A kilogram of salt,” Vic said.

Eileen just nodded. She couldn’t figure out if that was cheap or dear.

Vic gave her his lighter rifle to carry setting up a target and using some precious ammunition to let her get the feel of the weapon. He had her fire three rounds at the target about fifteen meters away. Satisfied, he moved it half again as far away and encouraged her to shoot three rounds as fast as she felt confident she was back on target.

The second three were closer together than the first three. He was pleased.

They started for the Festival grounds at Mast’s house well before sunrise. Vic explained at the start that he would walk in the middle of the road most of the time. She was encouraged to stay four or five meters behind. If the one side of the road was impossible to climb up or down he’d walk the opposite edge.

“Isn’t the guy out front more at risk?” Eileen asked. “Shouldn’t I take the lead or at least switch off with you?”

“The guy out front, the point man, is at more risk, but he has to know what to look for and anticipate ambushes. A scuff mark on the shoulder of the road or something up in the brush that just isn’t quite right. If you are on point and miss it we may walk deeper into the jaws of an ambush before I will see it trailing you.”

“When can I learn this stuff so I’m qualified to lead?” Eileen asked.

Vic thought about it a minute.

“I should have been giving you lessons when we had Arnold with us last time. My error, but now is not the time to fix it,” Vic said.

“OK, we’ll leave it for another time,” Eileen agreed.

Vic frowned in thought. “If something should happen to me this might help you. You should carry it, not me,” he decided. He gave her a paper map of the county in a zip-seal bag. “I have the thing committed to memory so well I think I could draw all the important parts by hand if I needed to.”

Everything went fine until mid-morning. There was a pretty steep bank on their right where the road made a cut across a slope. On the left, there was a guard rail and a slope falling away with vegetation, not like the bare rocky dirt of the road cut.

Vic stopped abruptly, turned and came back to her and spoke low. “Over the guard rail and down the slope on your butt. I’m right behind. Don’t leave a footprint near the edge or break a bunch of weeds. We want to get far enough into the trees to lie down and hide.”

Eileen aimed for a spot where there was no sand drifted in from the shoulder. There were high weeds but she went around them to the left and looked back to make sure they weren’t pushed over before sitting down and starting a controlled slide.

Vic motioned her on a couple of times, when she thought to stop, then turned and went back the way they’d come away, parallel to the road. He squatted behind a tree leaned back and pulled his hood up, his rifle upright between his feet. When he pointed to another tree she copied him and got a nod of approval.

They sat silent for a long time and when she looked at Vic he was using a tiny mirror with a mesh over it to look over his shoulder. She could see his binocular strap around his neck, but they were hanging inside his jacket. It seemed a very long time until Eileen finally heard a noise from above. There was a muted cough and then a few snatches of speech that were too low to understand.

Maybe ten minutes later Vic looked over and made an emphatic gesture three times for her to stay put. He stood and started slowly going back the way they’d come and at an angle upslope. She didn’t like being left. It was another half hour before there was a muffled shot.

The shot was so distant Eileen had a hard time believing it involved Vic either as shooter or target. He had been moving slow and cautious when he left and the shot was really distant. If he’d engaged whoever passed she suspected there would have been a flurry of shots. He’d been so emphatic about her staying Eileen resolved to obey his instructions. She had no idea if a really good woodsman could follow Vic’s back trail. She couldn’t see any marks on the ground or vegetation even knowing where he started and the approximate path he followed. Maybe somebody else could. Just in case, she decided to obey him to the extent of staying in the area, but moving carefully to another position where she could see the spot she was sitting right now, and ambush them if a stranger came back along Vic’s path.

Just to bait the spot and hope somebody would investigate it closer if they did come along she took a single glove from her spare pair and dropped it carelessly where she’d sat. It fell in a crumpled attitude that pleased her. It obviously wasn’t carefully laid there. Eileen retraced the path along which she got to that spot so as not to make a double trail, then when she was about ten meters away made a loop slightly uphill, stopped to empty her bladder, and came back until she found a spot with good cover from which she could see the glove. It was about as far away as the target Vic had her shoot at so that gave her confidence. She found a good comfortable place to sit where she wouldn’t need to keep moving and waited.

Vic came back from slightly downhill, not along the route he’d left her. It was instructive just watching him approach. He moved along a zigzag route without making a sound, stopped frequently and just stood still, checking behind him. Once he stopped and squatted, almost out of her sight, taking a bit longer than the standing stops. When Vic came to where she’d sat he didn’t walk directly to it. He made a half circle around it scanning the woods all around before he approached. While doing that he froze, eyes locked with hers, and she lifted a bare hand in greetings before he relaxed. She was in shadow and might be hard to identify. Vic went straight to her glove then and brought it to her.

“You seem to have lost your glove m’lady.”

“Oh, how careless of me, thank you.”

“Was that meant as bait?” Vic asked directly.

“Yes, if somebody was able to follow your trail back,” Eileen admitted. “Do you approve of that tactic?”

“It would work for most people,” Vic said, nodding. “If somebody saw it that who had a lot of experience fighting irregular forces, guerrillas, they wouldn’t go near it. Not only could you be sitting watching from a firing position but you might have an explosive device set there. Unless they had a larger force a pro would retreat and take a long path around.”

“What a marvelous idea. If we have a chance lets acquire some of those.”

“Do you really want to learn the whole nine yards?” Vic asked. “There’s a lot to learn to handle explosives and deploy them effectively while not blowing yourself up. It’s one of those things you probably won’t need to know off in space.”

“Want to bet? Spacers never blow crap up?” Eileen asked.

Vic looked like he actually thought about it a moment. “You got me there. I guess we might as well teach you to handle the little stuff before you advance to blowing up stuff like Santa Barbara County.”

“I was worried after I heard that shot. Do you have any idea who was shooting and what they were shooting at?” Eileen asked.

Vic nodded and looked grim. “I went back around the curve of the mountain until it started to turn into the next cleft cut down the mountain. I only heard them make noise once again. They were moving along pretty fast. So I climbed back near the road and waited. They did come into sight eventually across the arroyo where the road came back out on the next shoulder of the mountain. There were five of them, all men, and wearing a red brassard tied on their arm. I braced my rifle against a tree to steady it and got a good look at them with the magnification cranked up to 24x.

“One of them seemed to be injured. Nothing that showed, but the guard rail cut my view off almost to his hip. He was limping, then fell, and they all stood around him and talked. I didn’t see who shot but he must not have been able to go on and they finished him off. I’m pretty sure because several leaned over to take items and added them to their gear.

“How awful. They couldn’t carry him?”

“I have no idea. They seemed intent on keeping up a hard pace. I’m thinking they had a run-in with another group. The brassards indicate they had a need to identify friend or foe.” He seemed reluctant to say more.

“So, you think there might be people in pursuit of them?” Eileen suggested.

“They may be raiders and afraid whoever they tangled with will organize a pursuit,” Vic said. “Raiders aren’t thick enough on the land to be likely to run into each other.”

“Do you want to try to go on to Mast’s or head back home?” Eileen asked.

“Get the map out and I’ll show you where we are,” Vic offered. When she unfolded it, Vic stared at it a little frowning.

“This wider valley running up the side of the mountain was the third one back. This next narrower one is where I looked across and saw them shooting. That means we are here,” he said pointing with his finger.

“Then we’re past half-way,” Eileen said.

“Yeah, we lost maybe an hour and a half. If we can push a little we can still get there before full dark. Do you feel up to it?” Vic asked her.

“I’d like to try if you aren’t worried about running into a group chasing them.”

“If there is one, I suspect it will be a posse and not hostile to the likes of us,” Vic said.

“Let’s get moving then,” Eileen said.

“You lead now,” Vic said. “I want you to set the pace.”

“Alright,” Eileen said, determined to make him regret that.

* * *

“The problem is, not any one particular item of supply,” Gabor Bodner, Director of Maintenance, said to Directors Schober and Liggett. “It is simply that things are wearing out. We can make smaller components in a fabber if we have the feedstock. If a door switch goes bad on a rover it’s trivial to have one made by the next morning shift. Until we run out of copper feed paste. If we have a drive gear in the power train go out that is a significant drain on our steel feedstock to duplicate. Examine the graph in my report, please. The demand curve of fabbing feed stock crosses the supply line and becomes critical when you get out about three supply cycles from now. We don’t have the machinery needed to recycle the various metals back into feedstock. We’ll get the more critical items in the next shipment on the Sandman but the distance between Earth and Mars is going to space out our supply cycle periods longer, making the trend worse.”

“What was the original plan for dealing with larger systems wearing out and needing extreme service?” Director of Security Liggett asked.

“There was no projection past three years,” Bodner admitted. “The detailing of a much longer and more expensive project at the onset might have made it politically impossible. The presumption at the time was the economy would grow robustly. The maintenance and any expansion expense would then become a smaller fraction of the economy compared to the initial outlay. We’d have better, more efficient designs of rovers and suits and everything we use gradually replace the earlier models, but the development never happened. They also intended to build another vessel, not to replace the Sandman but to at least double capacity.

“The water mining machinery, in particular, will limit us from processing more soil to adapt to gardening. That means we will continue to require supply from Earth that was to have ended as our needs were met locally. The removal of chlorates from Martian soils requires several wet cycles and there is never a complete recovery of the water. The salts are removed as brines, not dried. The processors are not designed to be cleaned out that way. Eventually, the water gathered will not be able to meet our needs for drinking, bathing and food processing. We have losses in air leakage and wastes too.”

“What are our choices?” Director Schober asked.

“You need to raise greater support for supplies and modernization, or start reducing the population well before we reach a critical stage where we can’t support them,” Bodner insisted. “Long term, we must have another supply ship to even maintain our current occupied cubic and activities much less expand.”

“Thank you,” Schober said. “We take this seriously and will start formulating a plan to deal with it right now.”

Bodner took that for his dismissal, nodded his thanks and left.

Ligget calmed his breathing and weighed his words carefully. He was very aware of how transparent his words were to veracity software. It revealed not just black and white belief but all the shades of doubt and unspoken reservations.

“What are your orders, sir?”

“He’s right,” Schober said. “Numbers don’t lie. We need to start on what we can do, which is right now is to reduce our population. Start making a list of people non-essential to the ship research and other activities we’ve maintained for appearance’s sake. We’ll send back as many as the Sandman can take to Earth. This isn’t a voluntary action; make a list based on our needs, not personal preferences.”

“I’ll fine-tune it over a couple of days and get back to you,” Liggett promised.

“Nobody with knowledge of the true nature of the alien ship of course,” Schober added. “You might as well start making a list of people to expel on the next ship after too. We have to be careful of those who aren’t insiders but have been exposed to enough information to connect the dots and puzzle it out. When we have reduced the support staff and removed everyone safe to send back then we will have to plan to remove the critical life support here and move everything needful to the ship site and abandon this base. The last rovers will have to make a one-way trip so there is no transport left to follow us.”

Liggett’s stomach roiled. He hoped the biometrics were not obvious. The alien ship site wasn’t big enough to support much of a population at all. What Schober was saying was those left behind here would simply be sacrificed with life support and transport removed.

“That’s too sensitive to ask logistics to draw up a moving plan,” Liggett said. “I’ll structure the question as an expansion of the ship site.”

“That’ll work fine,” Schober said. If he were going to challenge Liggett he’d have done so right now. It appeared Schober thought he had his wholehearted support or was just squeamish and would be obedient despite personal qualms out of simple fear. Leggett just nodded and let himself out. He did have a couple of days now to do some planning. He’d have a list to go back on the Sandman, but there were other much more difficult plans to make too.

Chapter 5

Irwin thought it had been two days. He had another meal of mystery meat mechanically cut in bite-sized squares, a slice of white bread, a mix of steamed vegetables that seemed to be mostly potatoes and a serving of an Earth delicacy he’d completely forgotten about – fruit cocktail. He might have missed a meal if he was sleeping and they wouldn’t wake you, or if he was wrong in assuming they served three meals a day. Breakfast had been an exact repeat and he was sitting thinking about his missed meetings in Brussels and wondering if the Europeans knew he was a prisoner or if that was censored to them? He wondered if the USNA techs were having fun with his electronics. When they self wiped they still left files of encrypted nonsense so they might be spending valuable man-hours trying to crack what would be senseless gibberish anyway.

A tone sounded and the screen lit back up with an earnest young man looking at him.

“Mr. Hall? My name is Frederick Brooks and I’m your court-appointed attorney.”

“How odd, since I didn’t ask a court to appoint an attorney for me,” Irwin said. “How is that possible when I haven’t stood before any court to be told the charges against me? I don’t even know which court is claiming jurisdiction over me, a foreign national, or who is accusing me of exactly what crimes.”

“It is the USNA District Court for Southern Florida,” Brooks said, “and the charges are rather complex but I was told you were given summaries with a copy of your arrest warrant.”

“The officer who took my personal property and street clothes took my paperwork too.”

“You should have objected to that,” Brooks said.

Irwin looked disgusted. “You really are a naïve little twerp if you think anybody is going to stop to listen to you for a second when they are throwing you in the slammer. Have you ever been arrested and processed? You don’t look old enough to buy a drink much less be arrested for anything. How am I supposed to have any attorney confidentiality speaking to you over a link my jailers own? This whole thing is a farce.”

“I’m twenty-seven, so I’ve been able to buy a legal drink for three years. It is presumed all prisoners are unable to afford private representation. It is out of the reach of approximately ninety-seven percent of those arrested. If you wish to hire private representation you may dismiss me, but the judge will regard a client dismissal without having an attorney of record retained as an attempt to taint the case by claiming lack of representation. This video link is presumed to be private.”

Irwin just made a rude noise at that last silly remark. “I object to this being a concern of a USNA court at all,” Irwin said. “I have not been on USNA territory in decades and my dealing as a foreign national in my own jurisdiction is no concern of theirs. I’m guaranteed free and safe passage of North America by your treaty with Home even if I’d entered voluntarily, having entered your jurisdiction as a traveler in distress even more so. It’s a diplomatic issue, if it is any issue at all. I’ll point out all the time I was living on Home with a known address no North American agency ever made a complaint I was in any kind of a dispute with them. Suddenly when I am here it is sprung on me.”

“You are a banker, you are presumed to stay current with the public announcements in regard to your profession. The USNA has a number of sanctions in place against Home goods and support of transactions in those goods. More to the point the USNA has sanctions in place against the creation and use of the private currency known as the solar, meant to be used as public money and displace the dollar in trade. That is in violation of 18 U.S. Code Sec. 486, which prohibits making coins intended for use as current money. There are other associated charges including tax reporting and unlawful trades, but that is the core of it.”

Irwin’s mouth actually fell open at that. “This is raving lunacy to apply that to a foreign national. You’d be able to charge an Italian fellow for making euromark coins or a Japanese official for creating coins denominated in yen.”

“I presume they could,” Brooks agreed, “and if the currency in question was sanctioned, as Iranian and Venezuelan have been, I can almost guarantee you they would do so.

“You are also charged with bringing some of those false instruments into the country as well as items to facilitate their use, that is, your credit cards that will allow transactions to be carried out in solars, and the ‘bits’ that are unregistered securities. There are thirty-seven charges against you in all. You are also a carrier of prohibited life extension technology.”

“A carrier? You make it sound like I’m going to infect you. What would you do with all those extra years if I did?” Irwin asked sarcastically.

“Some of those therapies are applied by viral transmission, Brooks said. “There is no official stance on how long after their application they remain infectious.”

“That’s total dishonest bullshit,” Irwin said. “Nobody arresting me took any precautions at all. If they were worried about it they’d have all been suited up. They knew better.”

“And yet a large body of clergy and Spanish nobility were infected in Europe,” Brooks said. “Nobody has done a serious study of it.”

“I refuse your representation,” Irwin said. “I think you are confused about what being an officer of the court means. You sound and act more like a prosecutor than a defense attorney. I refuse to accept or acknowledge your court’s authority over me in this matter. I can’t communicate with them, but my mute appeal will be entirely with the authority and powers of my peers on Home. I am certain they know of my plight by now. This is all political. It’s going to come down to raw power if they decide to rescue me.”

“That’s a foolish and fanciful position that is going to harm you. You already did something to your computer and accessories to keep the agencies out of them. That right there prejudices your case because you demonstrated you had things to hide. Encrypting a mobile device with no law enforcement access is another charge against you. There were already limits to how much I could have helped you. You could have pled to a few of these in exchange for leniency, but your lack of cooperation makes it worse.”

“I-am-a-citizen-of-Home,” Irwin said in a very slow deadpan cadence.

“So? What is that supposed to mean to me?” Brooks asked, increasingly irritated.

“It’s the same as when Rome ruled the world and one could say ‘I am a Roman’. You touched them at your peril,” Irwin said, making a delicate touching gesture in front of the screen. “If they ran afoul of local law they could appeal to their own law all the way to Caesar. The inferior law did not apply. We built that into our treaty that we would be subject to our own law when transiting your territory, but you people have no honor and don’t keep your word. You’ve forgotten Vandenberg and the loss of California already. Neither have you learned anything from what happened to China for stealing a Home ship. I’m not only a citizen of Home, but I am an associate and business partner with the people who did those things to you and China. You may yet wish the Home Assembly took up your case if my friends decide to handle the matter themselves.”

“That happened because one of your ships approached our air space in a threatening manner,” Brooks said. “It was in the news and I believe my government’s version of events.”

“Of course you do, Fool.”

Brooks scowled and said nothing more before cutting the connection.

* * *

“Well it was still worth waiting and giving them a chance to be reasonable,” Jeff said. “These charges are ridiculous. Cuba has suspended connecting flights to North America again, more for their man who was arrested than for Irwin. That’s going to be a pain in the neck for people who use the hypersonics out of Havana. They recalled their consul from Miami too. The other fellow they took off the plane with Irwin is a Cuban political leader in the party the USNA condemns. He has a lot of followers among Cuban expats, all along the Gulf states.”

“Why was it worth waiting?” April asked Jeff. “What advantage was it at all?”

“If we have to speak to the Assembly about it, or for that matter how we look in the historical record. I’d like us to look like we didn’t automatically expect the worst of them and provoke them to respond harshly.”

“I seriously doubt your idea that I’m nicer than you,” April said, “and I intend to write the history books, or at least feed the record to Lindsey to put in her book.”

“A picture book,” Jeff said, “they will never respect it.”

“I don’t really care, and I’m going to show her all the straight stuff to prove you were the first to take a ship to another star, whether you care about the glory or not.”

“She isn’t going to publish very soon, I hope?”

“No, this is one of those megaprojects that take over a person’s life,” April assured him. “Since you are so worried about the optics of it, and want to be among the angels and wear the white hat in this story, what do you want me to do next?”

“I think it is time to issue a very sternly worded press release,” Jeff said, straight-faced.

“Am I allowed to make threats?” April asked. “Take out New York City if they hurt him?”

“While that has a certain visceral appeal, and striking mental imagery, I honestly think they couldn’t get their minds wrapped around it. You’d end up having to either back down and destroy your credibility, or commit mass murder of about twelve million people.”

“Plus New Jersey, pretty much,” April said.

“Indeed,” Jeff agreed, “but everybody would mourn New York the Great City, and nobody would really give a damn about New Jersey unless their Aunt Edna happened to live there. May I suggest a lesser threat, chosen with the idea in mind they will probably make you demonstrate your resolve? You may have to act more than once, so you should leave yourself room to escalate in steps.”

“I could escalate from New York just fine, but I take your meaning.” April smiled, but it wasn’t a pleasant smile. “I’m considering a target that ties in with their narrative perfectly, low or no casualties if they pay attention, but high value. Probably higher in propaganda value than reality, but that’s how they play the game anyway.”

“You look too pleased with yourself, what’s the target?” Jeff

“Fort Knox. Since they make a point of it that gold isn’t money I could relieve them of the ongoing expense of storing that out-dated commodity. We would then see if the loss of a big chunk of their gold reserves influences the value of the dollar.”

“That’s much more restrained than hitting the Federal Reserve Bank in New York,” Jeff agreed. “They keep more gold there but the collateral damage would be horrid even if you didn’t really sink Manhattan. I wonder if you couldn’t start at a much lesser level though, and escalate if they prove stubborn?”

“I’ll give some thought to that,” April promised. “Perhaps it would be better to directly target the officials responsible instead of institutions. What do you think? The North Americans love to target third world enemy leaders with drones who don’t have the tech to strike back. I wonder how they’d feel to be on the receiving end for a change? In any case, I don’t need to start right now. Let’s see how they treat Irwin.”

“Come, fortify yourself with some dinner before you carry on the fight. You don’t want to get obsessed like you’ve warned me many times, and ignore your own needs,” Jeff said.

“I can hardly ignore my own advice,” April agreed.

* * *

“I have some feedback from Chen,” April said.

“Already? It’s only been about an hour,” Jeff said.

“It’s daytime in North America. If it was the middle of the night he’s probably be waiting for people to wake up and read their messages. It amazes me he has as many international contacts as he does,” April said. “He mostly worked in Asia for the Chinese. I can’t prove it, and I am scared to demand he tell me, but I suspect he is getting more and more information from Jan on ISSII. His intelligence on North America and Europe, in particular, has gotten much more detailed and useful.”

“I can believe that for various complex reasons,” Jeff said, but didn’t elaborate. “So what is the scoop? Did he have any suggestions?”

“Chen never really volunteers advice easily. I have to ask him directly and it’s still like pulling teeth. He said the whole thing started from the Office of Foreign Asset Control, and a bunch of other agencies are having a fit over them jeopardizing the necessary back door payments to The Private Bank of Home. They were happy to let payments be routed through other countries and ignore that Irwin dealt in solars as long as he wasn’t the issuing bank. The Fed was happy showing how tough they are, kicking our Solar Trade Bank out of SWIFT – IPC, but we still have tons of crap they need to buy. They didn’t need that destabilized. If it all has to go full black market the price will get jacked up even more and delivery unreliable.”

“You better believe it will,” Jeff said. “I’ll make sure of it and see as much of that as is practical ends up in our pockets. Acting like flaming jackasses should have consequences.”

“The CDC is not thrilled, because the new universal flu vaccine from GSK is ninety percent effective. Since it’s made here they market it in solars, not dollars, or even yen. They haven’t produced the old style multi-strain vaccine in three flu seasons and it would be a nightmare to try to start production back up again from scratch.

“Also, the CDC has never had to back up their propaganda about Life Extension Therapy in a court with any sort of serious testimony. They don’t want to, and charging Irwin like he has broken quarantine would make them look stupid in discovery.”

“They would keep any honest expert witnesses from entering the country to testify,” Jeff said. “I’m not sure you could find a USNA scientist willing to trash his career.”

“I don’t want it to get to trial,” April said.

“Then what is your opening stratagem?” Jeff asked.

“To ask Dan Prescott to declare the Private Bank won’t take dollars from any third party, since they’ve imprisoned the owner. Get ahead of them before they can go through a show trial and declare the same thing themselves,” April said. “Dan has a direct commercial interest. They may pay attention to him better than me making any statement just yet.”

“Irwin would never do that himself,” Jeff said. “Dan is going to know that and it puts him on the spot. How is that going to affect his relationship with Irwin when he returns? It may cost him his job to do that.”

“It would be terrible to be ungrateful for any effort to free him. What else does Dan have he could do to pressure the North Americans to free him? He can make the explicit point that when Irwin is freed he’ll normalize dollar trades again. I bet that gets some behind the scene support from the countries that have been facilitating those transactions. If it works that may also save them from having an action brought against them for their part in bypassing sanctions. I don’t see how they could avoid doing that if all the details of how it works would be made public in a trial. Anyway, if worse comes to worst we can offer him a job with our bank,” April suggested.

“Talk to him,” Jeff agreed. “Make sure Irwin didn’t limit his authority to do business while he was gone. Find out if he can do that, and, April… ”

“Yes?”

“I think you should tell him that you intend to intervene further yourself as needed, and how, so he can protect his assets and make money from it.”

“You think Dan refusing dollars would make much difference?” April asked him.

“Oh yeah, it will make the dollar dip and Dan can make some money on knowing that is going to happen. I don’t know how much, but something. I expect Irwin is going to accuse me later on of coming up with the idea. He still suspects I deliberately crashed the dollar when they kicked us out of their payment system.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll set him straight it was my idea,” April promised.

“Did anybody ever say why the hypersonic had to abort?” Jeff asked, suspiciously.

“It doesn’t appear to be sabotage,” April said. “Once about every fifty flights, a hyper has a flow failure in their transition to ram mode. The laminar flow in the intake is normally right on the edge of stability, and can disrupt and go turbulent. Normally, it cuts the fuel flow, closes the intake opening down, and automatically cycles the opening back while restoring fuel flow. It does it so fast and automatically most passengers don’t notice a little lurch. This time the system glitched and didn’t cut the fuel flow. The turbine was already bypassed and spinning down, so it didn’t self destruct, but the back-fire bent and froze the baffles and left the ram intake unable to adjust. They could fly it with one engine back in turbine mode at reduced power, but it can’t even stay up, just extend its glide and run auxiliary systems.”

“They’re so complicated it’s amazing they work at all,” Jeff said.

* * *

Vic was alarmed at the speed Eileen set. He thought about telling her they didn’t have to get there for lunch. After thinking it all through he decided there wasn’t any way to put it that wouldn’t be poorly taken. If she burned herself out the worst that would happen would be they’d have to stop short, camp off the road, and turn back home tomorrow.

It did alarm him a little however when after about an hour she picked up the pace. His feet started complaining a bit after about an hour of that, enough to remind him that they really got about the same amount and quality of daily exercise. His only advantage was a longer stride, and he was at a couple of decades disadvantage, something he didn’t usually think about but was starting to concern him today. When Mr. Mast’s barn came in sight they were both relieved. A couple of people were working on the side of the barn opposite the house. They stopped working briefly as Vic and Eileen approached, and then went back to work. They probably had binoculars like Vic, but he didn’t stop to get his out.

When they were closer it became apparent they were digging, fresh darker dirt piled to the side. When they got closer two big dogs came trotting toward them. At a sharp whistle, they turned around and went back, but slower. That said a lot about Mr. Mast. They’d never seen his dogs during the festivals and a lot of folks had enough trouble feeding themselves, much less dogs too. When they were a hundred meters away Mr. Mast shoved his shovel in the pile and walked to meet them. The dogs flanked him and had to be introduced first after which they didn’t seem very interested.

“It’s kind of ugly there if you’d rather not have to see it, Ma’am. We’re burying some raiders rather than just drag them off. That encourages vermin to hang around. You can go up to the house if you’d rather.”

“I appreciate your kindness, but I have my big girl pants on today. I’ve seen ugly stuff before and won’t faint away. Did you miss a few who fled off down the road in our direction?” Eileen asked.

“I did, but I’m not sure how many,” Mast said, “It was still pretty dark and it might have been the three I saw for sure or a couple more.”

“Five,” Vic said, “but one was hurt and I think he was shot and left behind.”

“You shoot at them?” Mast asked Vic, eyeballing their slung guns.

“No, I heard them coming so we hid and let them pass by. I saw them from a distance where the road came back into view. I didn’t see who did the shooting, they weren’t out in plain view of me, but they were divvying up his stuff after the shot sounded.”

“That was smart when they outnumbered you. Then I got half or better of them,” Mast said, looking satisfied.

“With some help?” Vic asked, nodding toward the young man still digging.

“No, that’s my neighbor’s boy Ted from about a half-mile down the road. He came by to see if I needed a hand and help after all the banging and booming. They set two guys to keep me pinned in the house. They didn’t damage much because they couldn’t spare the ammo to keep at it. The one hid behind the Festival outhouse. I had to show him the difference between concealment and cover. I hate to use up .338 Lapua ammo, but one does what one must. The other silly fellow was down behind the barn and the idiot actually looked around the corner and showed me half a face at three hundred meters,” Mast said.

“The others were busy busting in the barn where I couldn’t see. I always knew that’d be a weak spot so I booby-trapped it. When they broke in it set it off and caught four or five more. Hard to tell how many unless one of ‘em was wearing mismatched shoes.”

Eileen decided maybe she didn’t want to see, if he couldn’t tell how many he’d ‘caught’.

“We had a hard march to make up the time we lost evading those guys. We were hoping you’d let us sleep in the barn to save setting up camp. We want to get to O’Neil’s in the morning and fly to Nevada to see a doctor.”

“No, no, the barn ain’t secure now and it’s still a mess. You just go on up to the house. Drop your stuff by the front door and when I finish up I’ll come up and we’ll have a bite together. There is a big pot of venison stew on the floor in the mudroom. If you care to set it on the back of the stove it can be warming. You can have the bedroom to the left, up the stairs. It’s the one done all in blue. If you go in back off the mudroom and you’ll see my water heater. You can start a small fire in there and keep it going if you’d like a hot bath later. There’s a big old footed tub in the downstairs off the kitchen and but it takes the whole tank to fill it once.”

Vic had never heard of anyone being invited up to Mast’s house. This was a big step up in the local social order for them.

“Thank you, your hospitality is really appreciated,” Vic said.

Mast gave an ‘Aw shucks’ dismissive wave. “Go on up, you look set to drop.”

* * *

April went to the Private bank of Home to talk to Dan. Speaking on com was fine for certain things, but there was a sense of separation that allowed a different mentality. Just as people expressed things online more harshly than they would ever dare to do face to face and got into flame wars, so trying to conduct business online allowed a detachment that made it too easy to say no. The fact that a person had to get up and leave or even worse tell the other person plainly to leave was much more emotionally wrenching than knowing they could simply be rid of you at the touch of a button.

Dan would feel safer on his own territory in his own bank than dealing with April on her turf or even in a neutral site such as her club. He’d hesitate to deny her requests. She was finally coming to understand how intimidating she could be, after long denial.

It had been months since she’d been in the physical bank. Her partners and she had no public space like the Private Bank, theirs was totally virtual. She had conflicting feelings about that. If they ever did have a walk-in lobby she thought basing it on the Moon would make a lot more sense. Just the expense factor was so much better on the Moon, and Heather’s Central had survived being nuked already. Nobody on Home had any illusion it had that level of security. Indeed, the Private Bank kept the majority of their hard assets and all the things they held in safe deposit in deep lunar storage.

The immediate change April noticed was Dan’s desk, as well as Irwin’s sadly unoccupied desks were set back and semi surrounded by glass, and there was a new desk totally in the open set right in front of the entry. It was wider than strictly necessary with two chairs behind it and two very nice comfortable chairs on the inside of the curve facing the entry. It didn’t say, “Stop Here”, but it strongly suggested it. The young man sitting there looked familiar but April was uncertain enough to ask.

“Are you Iaan, Matt Wilson’s son?”

“Yes, I know I’ve grown a bit,” he told her, amused.

“Yeah, at least a full head higher, would you ask Dan to talk to me when he’s free?”

“You are on the ‘send them straight to me’ list,” Iaan said, “and you are on my favored list too because I remember and appreciate still how you got us on the shuttle to come up here.”

“You’re welcome,” April said. She walked around the boomerang and into Dan’s glassed- in area, Iaan escorting her. The noise level went down noticeably. It wasn’t just isolated, it had to have the active noise cancellation of a hush field.

Dan looked past April and made a tipping motion with his hand. “Iaan will get us some coffee,” he said.

“Good, I need a jolt, thank you,” April said.

“What else can I do for you?” Dan asked her.

“It’s more like what you can do for Irwin and by extension yourself. It will benefit me but well down the line. I’d like to suggest you make some public statements if Irwin didn’t tie your hands to make it impossible.”

“Irwin was remarkably trusting and said it is impossible to know what might come up so setting all sorts of rules could be a catastrophe,” Dan said. “He said to try not to be a butthead and make some money if I had a chance.” He leaned back and clasped his hands.

“Tell me what you have in mind and I’ll consider it.”

* * *

A NOTICE to Our Customers and Interested Business People

Daniel Prescott * IT Manager * Acting Head Private Bank of Home

Starting immediately with this notice and press release the Bank will no longer facilitate payments that start or end with USNA dollars due to the illegal arrest of the Bank’s principal owner, Irwin Hall. The USNA government has taken the stance that any foreign coin is in competition with the USNA dollar and thus illegal to possess, even in the pocket of a traveler in distress forced to land on USNA territory by a carrier emergency. This, of course, ignores the history of thousands of coins travelers have commonly carried back from trips abroad and kept as curiosities or were simply not worth converting to their own currency before going home. These have never been treated as criminal contraband. It ignores the fact foreign coins were once the majority of circulating money in their own early history.

The Home banks have never promoted the solar to be introduced to the USNA or anywhere on Earth as a circulating currency in violation of Federal law, or sold as an illegal bullion coin such as was prohibited in the Gold Restriction Act of 2072.

Mr. Hall’s arrest is an aggressive political act in violation of North America’s treaty obligations. This narrow interpretation and application of their own laws was targeted at Mr. Hall to the exclusion of thousands of others who have been ignored for prosecution. A similar application of the law to everyone would bring international trade to a standstill and stop any reasonable person from visiting the USNA for business.

Citizens of Home are guaranteed free passage and to be treated by their own law while in North American territory. Breach of these promises releases Home citizens from any obligation to reciprocate the peaceful resolution of our previous conflict. Until such a breach is repaired and compensation made, Home sovereign citizens are free to take whatever actions they feel necessary to remedy the harm done them. North America risks the Bank and others bringing the matter to the attention of the Home Assembly for a resolution of joint action and resumption of general hostilities between North America and Home and her allies if we are unable to resolve the harm done to us.

* * *

“Wow, he went beyond what I suggested,” April said. “He never looked upset. When I got through talking to Dan I wasn’t sure he was going to make any statement, and here he talks about compensation and threatens to ask for what would be a declaration of war even if he doesn’t use that word.”

“Dan doesn’t emote and wave his hands around and shout much. I’d never mistake that for not having any strong feelings. Look at this market chart,” Jeff said. “The USNA dollar is down three percent against the Australian dollar in the six hours since he released this. I’m not sure that is enough to provoke them into saying anything. They tend to regard an individual as not important enough to gift with a response. You seem to need to be a head of state to be on their radar.”

“Well I’m not going to ask Heather to speak for us,” April said. “She’s the only real head of state we have past L1, and they’d croak to see her hold court.”

“I’m staying out of it too. They already have me painted as a monster. Oh, look at this screen,” Jeff said, adding a window to the wall display. “The price of gold is up slightly in every single market where it is legally quoted against the local currency.”

“Platinum a little more so,” April noted.

The corner of the screen showed a priority search notice, and then about ten seconds later, a message from their intelligence chief Chen.

“Want to bet they are about the same thing?” April asked. Jeff just shook his head no. Chen was important to them so they answered him first rather than the search alert.

Chen looked cross, which was unusual for him. “The Secretary of the Treasury just let everybody know which way North America leans on the issue of arresting Irwin by imposing the same sanctions on the Private Bank as stood on the System Trade Bank. He also elaborated on sanctioned goods and make clear firms or individuals who trade in nonessential goods for Home, Central, or the Lunar Republic will be blocked from dealing with North America and their assets will be subject to seizure. He then went on a long rant about the full faith and credit of the United States of North America, and made it clear no modern economy can function using any physical asset as a basis for settlements, that gold was fine for Iron Age farmers and Medieval princes, but was now a commodity like any other metal and had no special economic significance.”

“Well, so much for Treasury wanting a channel open for payments,” April said. “He’s the boss over the Office of Foreign Asset Control, so he just affirmed its policy and that they didn’t arrest Irwin by mistake or as a rogue action.”

“Or was told to own it from the highest executive levels,” Chen said.

“We have a net search alert, so we probably have the full speech and supporting document, but thank you very much for the synopsis,” April said. “We’ll let you know if we hear of any further response. Dan really surprised us and made a stronger statement than we expected.”

“Were you instructing him to issue that statement?” Chen asked bluntly.

“I don’t have any handle on Dan to order him to do anything. I merely suggested it in a general way, without carrot or stick,” April admitted. “The words were his. I did urge him to move on it, because I thought it would lose any power by delaying it. I’m glad he got did get it out before the Secretary’s statement. Now it looks like they are the ones reacting to Dan, not in complete control of the situation.”

Chen nodded. “Dan really had nothing to lose. Everything the Secretary detailed was already implicit in his actions. His news conference was so soon after Dan’s release that I suspect it was coming anyway, but you are right, the optics of it favor Dan. Enumerating their position publicly was not directed at Dan and the Private Bank, but to keep everybody else in line who wants to do business with North America. In my estimation, it was not worthy of a Great Power. It made them look weak and reactive. They should have just ignored him. I’m surprised they let you goad them into it so easily.”

“He not me,” April protested, “and this really isn’t sufficient reaction to justify taking stronger action. I need something more.” She hoped Chen might suggest something.

Chen just looked alarmed at that and had no helpful suggestions. He just said, “Uh-huh. We’ll talk about this again,” and terminated his call.

“He doesn’t want to give me reasons to escalate,” April observed.

“Chen knew too much about it too soon to have gotten it off the news services,” Jeff said. “He didn’t even have ten seconds to read it between your AI doing a keyword search and his calling us.”

“He has an inside source, a leaker who fed him the text of the Secretary’s speech before it was broadcast,” April said with certainty.

“The only way spies get stuff like that is to trade other information for it,” Jeff said. It seemed to worry him.

“You have to pick your people and trust them,” April insisted, seeing his line of thought. “Otherwise you need to create a huge expensive bureaucracy with everything compartmented so the right hand has no idea what the left hand is doing. It requires institutional paranoia and is inefficient, destroying any ability of your people to display initiative. I have to trust Chen not to damage us by leaking the wrong thing. If he picked carefully he could leak and actually help us.”

“You had me until that last,” Jeff said. “How could he possibly do that?”

“We’d be happy if they released Irwin. Without naming us or detailing what we might do, Chen could still say to lower echelon intelligence that some of his Home contacts are watching the entire drama with interest and could easily be provoked into intervening themselves. Chen has good credibility with his peers. Being starved for anything of actual substance, you can bet his take on it would be included in all the reports being generated as on-site intelligence. If they are indecisive it could be enough to tip them to the decision to release him.”

“So, you are comfortable with Chen or his people putting rumors and minor revelations out there that in his opinion might work to our benefit? That seems risky and of very low probability,” Jeff said, skeptically.

“Chen knows how back channel information and disinformation flows between agencies and spooks far better than us. I trust him to share the right sort of rumor and speculation that might work to our benefit. History is the sum of all the low probability events added up,” April insisted.

That seemed backward to Jeff and he almost protested, but he sat thinking about how improbable most of the events that had shaped his life were, and stayed silent.

Chapter 6

Eileen was having trouble going up the hill, all shaky because as soon as she’d stopped walking to talk with Mast her legs immediately started cramping up. They dumped their gear by the entry and went to the kitchen in the back of the house. It was warm there so they hung their coats and put their rifles against the wall out of the way. Eileen went through to the mudroom and started getting her boots off, wishing she’d left her coat on as it was cool.

The fire in the kitchen stove had burnt low, so Vic presumed to put a couple of small pieces of wood on it and went past Eileen to start a fire in the water heater. It appeared to be entirely handmade but functional. It was cold by the door and more so down on the floor. Fetching the stew from the mudroom, Vic could see why Mast used it for a cooler. The pot had a good four or five liters of stew, that was good, Vic didn’t feel they’d be imposing. He just sat it on the back of the stove to heat gently and didn’t take an eye off to set the pot in the hob. He had no idea how long Mast would be and didn’t want to scorch it.

Eileen came in and put her head down in her arms on the table. Vic started thinking they might not be able to get up early and make the long walk to O’Neil’s in the morning. Indeed, Eileen looked like she might need a few days of rest before she could travel.

* * *

It was full dark with stars showing before Mr. Mast came in from his gruesome task. When Vic looked over Mast’s shoulder he shook his head no, and said, “Ted went home. It’s close and he could get there through the woods if he needed to.” Mast was in no condition to cook so he asked Vic if he was up to putting a skillet of cornbread on to cook. Vic assured him he could, and tossed some more wood in the stove, not banging the door.

“I’m going to strip down to my underwear in the mudroom and then just use enough of the hot water to clean up,” Mast said, keeping his voice low because Eileen was asleep. “I don’t want to rob your lady of her bath. Nobody will want to use my bathwater second hand and I’m not going to eat like this. I can have a full bath and take my time in the morning after you are gone. I’ll need to wash these clothes in boiling water too. Before The Day I’d have just tossed them. That’s too big of an expense now.” Vic followed him to the mudroom.

“I have serious doubts we’ll be pushing on to O’Neil’s,” Vic told him. “I think Eileen is going to be too stiff to even try in the morning. The plane is coming back the eighth of next month but we were warned we might get stranded and not be able to return if there is early snow. I can’t take that chance. We may have to wait until the spring.”

Mast frowned and looked grim. “Is that girl sick?” he demanded.

“She’s not sick. She wants to buy birth control. She doesn’t have a previous prescription so the doc won’t just send a refill. He has to see her. She has big plans that need putting off children for a few years, and I married her knowing that clearly beforehand.”

Mast nodded, thoughtfully, and could see any deeper questioning would be intrusive.

“I’ve heard good things about you. Then I saw you use good sense doing the salt deal instead of looking for an argument. You know, I wouldn’t ask just anybody to my house. Quite a few at the festivals have gotten their feathers ruffled that I don’t pack a crowd in my house who think they are important. Truth is I’d need to have all of them in here to avoid offending someone. Not having any in is easier than a mob. I can help you with this trip tomorrow, but I want a formal commitment that we’re allies and partners to support each other. I’ll help you other ways, but when I need a helping hand you have to stand ready to return the favor. Think about it and you can answer me after I’ve washed up.”

“I need to know what kind of ventures you have in mind,” Vic asked.

“When things get back a little closer to the old normal here I’d like to organize a political machine. I don’t want to see outsiders come in and control everything. I’d like a local sheriff and local county executive. Not me, but I want a hand in picking them. I might invite you to do some business with me, in certain things. I wouldn’t charge you storage to keep stuff here, and I can offer you transport to O’Neil’s tomorrow or in the future at need.”

Vic nodded, not acceptance, it was too important and complicated to seal such a deal with a nod, but that he’d think on it and Mast went off to get cleaned up. Vic went back to the kitchen and found the stuff to make cornbread and thought about the offer. He was impressed that Mast had shell eggs. He poured the batter over hot pork fat in a cast-iron skillet and stuck it in the oven. He checked the thermometer on the oven door. It read between 375 and 400, Fahrenheit scale of course, but it was too old for that to even be marked on the scale, it was assumed. He was satisfied he didn’t need to open the damper more, and he’d check it in about twenty minutes. The stew got moved forward over a small hob with the eye pulled off and stirred, not a larger one it would sit down into.

Eileen stirred at the activity. Vic woke her gently and explained what was happening and Mast’s offer. “We’re partners, so I want your agreement to do that big of a deal with Mast.”

“I don’t trust my judgment when I’m so sleepy, but I think Mast is good people and trustworthy. He treats everybody right that comes to the festival. There must be problems now and then but he takes care of them quietly. Keeping locals in charge of the county sounds good. If he didn’t do it I’d hope somebody else would. If you feel the same about him as I do, then do what you think is best,” Eileen said.

When Mast returned he set the table himself. “I consulted with Eileen and we both have confidence in you to take your deal,” Vic said. “Do we need to go back out tonight to arrange transportation?”

Mast looked surprised, and then amused. “No, in the morning will be just fine.”

* * *

“They intend to make a show trial of it,” April said, waving at the wall screen. She sounded calm but there was fire in her eyes, and Jeff examined the news report carefully.

The Department of Justice announced prosecution of Irwin Hall following the seizure of illegal coins and securities in the Space Port of Miami. It was quite a list of agencies. The FBI, Secret Service, Treasury Department, Mint Police, Border Patrol, US Marshalls, TSA, Port of Miami Police, plus state, city and county agencies all wanted credit for having a hand in his apprehension. You’d think they had hunted him down as a fugitive.

The list of laws and charges were longer, most just referenced by statute number. Jeff decided there was no point in looking up each of them in detail. They all missed the point the entire action was in violation of treaty terms with Home, which was also completely ignored in the press. In fact, nowhere did it explicitly name Irwin as a citizen of Home. Jeff found that disturbing. Did they intend to deny Irwin ever validly renounced his North American citizenship? Did they intend to not only deny the treaty but Home’s actual existence? That could get difficult given the number of states such as Japan, Tonga, Australia, France, and Russia that recognized Home.

“I’m afraid you are right,” Jeff admitted. “I’m concerned now that somebody may call an early Assembly and move to declare war on North America again. This is so public and so extreme in repudiating the treaty that somebody will surely get upset about it, even if they aren’t a friend of Irwin or do business with his bank. Do they sit around down there and try to find the stupidest thing they could do, and then act on it?”

“It seems like it sometimes,” April agreed. “All I can think to do is get ahead of them and make a strong statement myself. Maybe then anyone outraged will wait and see how that works out before acting themselves. The problem with the Assembly becoming involved is they won’t act just to get Irwin released. It will be about the treaty violation as a matter of principle and he’ll become an afterthought. If they start hostilities with North America he’s likely to be held longer under heavier security. I’m afraid a second war with them will be much uglier than the first. Much worse than anything I’d do to get Irwin released.”

“Yes,” Jeff agreed, “our restraint in the war was unappreciated. We avoided damaging critical infrastructure such as dams and power plants that kept the civilian population from freezing or starving to death. But it was their own dishonesty in minimizing the extent of their damages to the public that gave the political opposition room to object they surrendered too easily. What could they say? No politician is going to admit he lied. If the real military casualty lists had been exposed they would have had far bigger problems.”

“Pretty much everybody on Home understands that,” Lee said. “That’s why if they push us into another war the electorate here will want to trash them in a very brutal public way, so they can’t deny they were thoroughly beaten this time. They’ve had a huge migration of population to the south, but millions could still freeze and starve if the power plants and distribution grids are destroyed.”

“Then there is Texas…” Jeff said.

“Yeah, if North America is damaged badly they are going to grab more territory.”

“To the point that I’m not sure North America will be viable long term,” Jeff said. “They certainly would never regain any control over Mexico. Texas will block any attempt to encircle them again to the west, and they could push all the way east to the Atlantic.”

“Then, after some consolidation, the next logical thing for Texas would be to push up the middle and divide the North East from the North West,” April decided. “Given the climate, that would effectively isolate them from each other economically and militarily several months a year. Texas could defeat one side or the other while they were isolated.”

“That’s a real possibility down the road,” Jeff said, “but I would really rather we don’t get blamed by history for precipitating it. There would be tremendous suffering. Not that they might not be easier to deal with, but still.”

“OK, you can help me plan,” April offered. “The problem is how to beat them up a little, so the public honor is satisfied, and Irwin released, but without starting a huge general war.”

“Agreed, but we will need to consult some others,” Jeff said.

* * *

In the morning, Eileen struggled to sit up and swung her legs off the bed straight out. She woke up Vic with a little moan. Her first try at standing up resulted in her sitting back down, hard.

“A little stiff are we?” Vic asked too cheerfully. His sweet bride had never looked at him that way before. She wasn’t willing to joke about this. He wasn’t much better, but he tried to hide it. He moved awkwardly and didn’t succeed.

“There’s a chamber pot,” Vic said, pointing. “You don’t have to march downstairs and straight to the outhouse.”

“Is that what that is? I wonder where Mast ever got that?”

“Probably like all the stuff that’s useful again now, out of the attic. Folks with a big old house and land like this didn’t need to sell them off to antique shops and it’s too far out in the middle of nowhere to get much action at a yard sale. Country people stuck this kind of stuff away in the attic before there were garage sales and tag sales.”

“Yard sales! I forgot about them. Mom would burn up half a tank of gas driving around to paw through other folk’s junk. The big buyers were the Mexican field hands. They’d buy up all this stuff for a dime on a dollar and then after picking season was done take it home. It was real treasure back home in some mountain village.”

Vic sat on the other side of the bed dressing, back to Eileen to give some token privacy. This was an activity they didn’t usually share, even in the bush.

Eileen looked up and frowned while dressing herself. “I meant to ask you. Where do you think the salt guys got enough gas to run their truck? I can’t believe anybody is trucking it in from the outside yet.”

“They may have found a gas station where nobody pumped it out after the power died. Or they found kerosene. Some old straight four or six-cylinder engines can be altered to run on it pretty well. Or they may have a moonshiner cranking out enough volume to sell some for fuel. In theory, you can even make gas from a wood generator, but it is big and clunky.”

“But you never tried. Your truck is up on blocks,” Eileen said.

“Mine is very fussy about fuel. It’s all computer controlled and modern. I put it up and took the plugs out and squirted oil in the cylinders while I could still turn it over. I figure I will never use it again unless I can buy a new battery and tires. It might be a while.”

“I think I heard Mast slamming the firebox door,” Eileen said. “Let’s get down there.”

* * *

Breakfast was the half a skillet of cornbread left from last night, and a real treat, eggs scrambled with peppers and onions. Mast didn’t stint on them.

“Oh my goodness,” Eileen said, “I think you are buttering us up for something.”

“Wish I could butter up anything,” Mast said. “It’s too heavy to bring in from Nevada and it’s all imported from points south there, so it’s priced ridiculously. I get some shell eggs regularly from the guy who sells chicken at the festival this summer. He lives along the road to O’Neil’s, you’ll see his place and a big low building and fenced run. He ran out of stuff to preserve the eggs and slaughtered a lot of the chickens for the festival. He doesn’t get enough feed off his land to keep a big flock over the winter. He ran so low he had to let a bunch of chickens forage for themselves, and lost a few to foxes and who knows what else doing that.”

“We should buy some fertile eggs from him and start our own,” Eileen told Vic.

“You’re starting to look antsy,” Mast commented to Vic. “Don’t worry. I have everything under control. Enjoy your breakfast and we’ll get you on the road in a little bit.”

Mast waved Eileen away from doing the dishes and motioned them to follow him. Sometimes he got quiet like that. The outbuilding he took them to was of concrete block with an electric light hanging out over the door. That hadn’t shone in awhile of course. There were windows in steel casement frames and not busted out. He went to a window first.

“If anybody gets this far I want them to be able to look inside. What is more useless now than a big riding lawn mower with all the attachments?” He took them back to the door and opened it with a key. “What you can’t see from the windows is this.” He pulled a tarp back and showed them a dirt bike with saddlebags. It was spray-painted all over by hand with a dull camo pattern of brown and tan with few little green details. Even the bright parts like the engine case, wheels, and tire sidewalls were made dull.

“It’ll go about a hundred kilometers on a tank, maybe a little less with both of you on it. That’s plenty to go to O’Neil’s and back twice. It’s supposed to go a hundred and fifteen kilometers an hour but I think you’d have to be crazy to do that. I had it up to fifty-five a few times. It makes a lot more noise going fast too. There’s no need to advertise to folks you are coming. You can ride one can’t you?” He was nice enough to include Eileen in his glance.

“This is wonderful. I thought yesterday you probably had somebody nearby who you could hire horses from, but what if I wrecked it or it gets stolen from me? There’s no way I could ever replace it for you,” Vic protested.

“Truth is, if I lose the bike odds are we’ll lose you too. Just be aware there are folks out there who’d kill you for this now, so I encourage you not to stop for folks who might try to flag you down. I’m taking the plate off. It’s expired but who knows whether somebody can still trace it back to me. I’ve been to O’Neil’s. He can store this hidden and safe inside until you return.”

When Vic hesitated, his face reflecting that he was having a hard time taking responsibility for such a valuable item. Mast went on: “Yes it’s valuable, but if it’s so very valuable that we’re scared to use it at all, then it’s useless to us.”

“Alright,” Vic agreed. “Eileen, bring our stuff from the house, please. I want to do a couple turns around the house and barn to see what it feels like before I stick her on the back,” Vic requested.

“Have at it,” Mast invited. “Try not to make it buzz too loud here. You can do that out on some isolated stretch if you want.”

He passed Eileen on the way to the house and she gave him a big grin. He kept it down, mindful not to dig a track in the grass too. When he returned to Mast he declined the offer of a helmet too. He intended to go slow and wanted to see and hear everything clearly.

Eileen returned with both guns and everything condensed to one small backpack she could wear. She gave him his extra magazines, and his sunglasses, but slung his rifle behind her and put her own in front between them. Vic nodded that would work and made sense.

“See you in a few days,” Vic said. Mast smiled and didn’t step up to shake his hand, just gave a little wave. “If something should happen we don’t come back, take Albert my neighbor and dig inside the northeast corner of my barn,” Vic said. “Split what’s there with him. He already has the combo to my safe, and we have an understanding already that’s his.”

Mast just nodded, and they pulled away and turned down the road without looking back.

* * *

“I’m trying to think how to be moderate,” April said.

“I know it doesn’t come easily,” Jeff said. He seemed serious, not teasing or snarky.

“No, it isn’t, especially because I don’t see the favor returned at all,” April said. “There wasn’t a problem until the North Americans went out of their way to create one.”

“Have you figured out how to only beat them up a little as you said?” Jeff asked her.

“No, and it’s obvious Chen doesn’t want to advise me.”

“Look at the story Chen told us about how he got his family out of China,” Jeff suggested. “He knows you are one to be outspoken and take direct action. He was far more subtle and didn’t try to confront his enemies among his own people directly. He kept it quiet and still achieved what he wanted without bringing it into the public eye.”

“He had plans and resources already in place. I can hardly do anything from here without making a fuss. I’m not about to go back to North America again myself. I’m not sure I’m ready to go back to Hawaii since they got independence. Diana assures me everything is sweet and settled but I’m cautious.”

April looked suddenly thoughtful.

“Unless you are suggesting I hire a mercenary force to free him?” April asked. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“No, I was talking with Otis Dugan and you should have seen his facial expressions contemplating a rescue mission. It would be messy, risky, and he had no appetite to raise a force and attempt it. He pointed out Irwin might not survive the attempt.”

“OK. That’s something I didn’t consider. But like Chen, I’m not hearing much of anything actually useful to me. Do you have any suggestions to do rather than not do?”

Jeff looked grim, but thoughtful. April kept her mouth shut because she was pretty sure she’d finally nudged him into his analytical mode with her question.

“It’s a shame to ever need to use force, but these people seem to be stone deaf to anything else. All I can suggest is doing something to cost them money. They care about that a great deal. I’d try very hard to avoid hurting anyone. The press will use that against you, and the public cares, but realistically their rulers deal in human lives as a currency every day. You can’t even have a military without losing people in training, and they throw them away in ideological gestures with little concern. Find something expensive and break it after warning them. Keep it up until it hurts before you put people in danger.”

“Dan already clipped a bit off their currency with his announcement,” April said.

“Yes, but that’s rather abstract to most people. I’m sure it horrified a few people in the Treasury Department and currency traders in big banks, but tell your average person that his dollar just lost two percent against the yen and they won’t care. The government itself steals that much most years by inflating the money and it isn’t enough to provoke them. It’s been that way all their lives and they feel it’s just the normal way things are.”

“Oh! Thank you. That helps a lot. It needs to be visible and expensive and upset your everyday working person. I know just the thing. Since the war, they have rebuilt some of the Mississippi River bridges. They are expensive and very visible and people use them every day. I can announce I am destroying one a day until they release Irwin and there isn’t any way they can keep it secret or stop me. What does a bridge cost now?” April asked.

“The way the dollar is headed, a fifty billion dollar bridge is pretty common,” Jeff said. Something like a major long bridge over a harbor or coastal inlet can be hundreds of billions of dollars. The bigger expense is all the lost business and extra expense to move things. Also, since Texas is threatening the USNA middle, cutting Mississippi bridges makes it harder for the west and east sections to support each other.”

April thought on that. “Has Texas shown any favor to Home or Central at all?”

“Several Republic of Texas politicians have expressed official neutrality. I think there is a legacy of public disapproval they would have to overcome. You don’t just wave a magic wand and remove all the years of propaganda against us. If any of their officials were seen wanting to be close to the evil and crazy Spacers it might not go over too well with a lot of their people. On the other hand, Texas has no sanctions or tariffs against us but they aren’t offering landing rights or trying to lure Home tourists.”

“Then I’ll start closer to Texas where it will hurt North America’s ability to shift forces across the river to counter Texas the most,” April decided.

“See? I knew you could come up with something,” Jeff said.

* * *

Vic was pretty smooth on the dirt bike. He quickly got in the habit of building up speed and then coasting whenever he saw a mailbox to go past a house as quietly as possible. Along one stretch they passed a boy and girl maybe twelve and fourteen years old carrying a laundry basket of apples between them. They sat it down and just watched open-mouthed as the bike approached. At the last, they both waved and Eileen on the back waved back.

John the chicken farmer’s place was just as obvious as Mast described. Vic pulled up in front of the house and gave a little toot on the bike’s horn. The man looked out the front door disbelieving and they saw him lean over and set a long gun against the wall inside.

“Mr. Foy, Ma’am. Glad to see you. What can I do for you?”

“My wife is interested in keeping some chickens. If you could provide a couple of dozen fertile eggs at the spring festival you can consider them pre-sold. If you know what you would take for them you can tell us when we come back another time or right now.”

“Have you ever kept chickens, Ma’am?” John asked.

“No, but I’m prepared to follow advice. I’m not stupid,” Eileen said.

“OK then, we’re talking two dozen eggs and a handwritten set of instructions about how to raise chickens,” he decided.

“If you can write a manual it should sell well at the Festivals,” Vic suggested.

“I have books and old magazines from when I started,” John said. “A lot of it is common sense, and stuff I learned about how to keep out rats and weasels and keep the hawks off them that the written articles never touched. A lot is local, like what sort of stuff they’ll eat instead of commercial feed. I’ll tell you one thing, we don’t have any mice around here! Not for long at least. I could condense it all to ten or twelve pages I think. If you are headed toward O’Neil’s, I take it you are flying out. I need a couple of non-electronic thermometers for regulating egg temperature. The batteries died and I had to make homemade cells with cut up metal and paper separators. You should have one too. If you can bring me a couple of the thermometers and a stack of lined paper,” he showed what size he had in mind with his hands, “that will do.”

“That seems reasonable,” Vic said, and offered his hand. John shook on the deal and stepped back. When they rode off he stood there to watch them go.

* * *

O’Neil’s place was well back from the road but there was a painted sign on a full sheet of plywood between posts at the road. It was rather good hand-lettering that said: ‘This and That General Store’. They were in a river valley flood plain and Mr. O’Neil’s fields were flat. Running parallel to the road was a grass strip that had to be the runway. There were was a line of patio pavers across the end painted white and a big windsock sticking up well clear of the buildings. Along the grass strip, vertical boards called out in big black on white numerals how many meters of runway remained to be used up. If the interval stayed constant, Vic estimated the man had a kilometer long runway. He couldn’t see anything that was a real hazard off either end; it just wasn’t groomed as well.

There didn’t seem to be any activity, but there was a big sign leaning against the house by the front door that said ‘OPEN’. Vic turned in the drive which went over a ditch and pulled around back of the house. He wanted to get out of sight of the road.

O’Neil immediately came to the back door and urged them to bring the motorcycle inside. It was light enough the men on each side and Eileen pushing from behind got it up three steps with little trouble. They went through a big kitchen, a smaller dining room, through a fancy wood arch with carvings of oak leaves and acorns, into a sparsely furnished living room that was obviously his office and through another grand arch into a smaller room. O’Neil pulled the doors with beveled glass panes closed enough to draw drapes across the back.

O’Neil could see Eileen looking at the fancy oak arch, French doors and to her odd sequence of rooms.

“This is what they used to call the parlor,” O’Neil said, gesturing at the corner room in which they found themselves. It had a tiny fireplace of its own and two chairs facing it “The house is that old. The parlor is a social thing. My great grandmother could have probably explained who was important enough to be entertained here, while others were never invited past the kitchen.”

Eileen suspected it had been demoted to a storage room and the emptiness was simply that O’Neil’s stock was low at the moment.

“Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly,” Eileen remembered an old expression.

“Ha, you do know something about it,” O’Neil said, laughing.

“No, that’s childhood memory that popped up and I have no idea where I heard it.”

“I’m not sure either,” O’Neil said, “but I remember my mom saying it something similar sarcastically when somebody made a false offer or accepted a foolish one.”

“I’ve turned the valve off under the gas tank,” Vic said, getting back to business, “but do be careful, it is a fire hazard to have any gas inside a house.”

“I have a big commercial extinguisher. I’ll move it in here by the door just in
case,” O’Neil promised. “Nobody else will come in here, and I don’t have a dog or a cat to knock things over.”

“Thank you, may we leave our long weapons here too?” Vic asked.

“Lay them over against the wall and nobody will bother them,” O’Neil promised.

Outside there was the buzz of a plane making a low pass over the landing strip to check it visually for obstructions. As he climbed away, the pitch of the engines changed as he went away and then turned.

“And it looks like we arrived just in time,” Eileen said.

Chapter 7

“Otis and Mackay both seemed relieved I was just picking their brains and not meeting them to try to set up a rescue. I don’t understand why they would be so concerned to refuse me. It’s not like we do a lot of business with them and refusing me might jeopardize that. If they said no, I’d just move on. Not to another security team,” Jeff clarified. “They are the best, and if they refused I wouldn’t put Irwin’s fate in the hands of a ‘B’ team. But they didn’t have to convince me. I think a commando-style raid would be reckless. We don’t even have sufficient lander capacity to carry it off unless everything went perfectly. Even then it would be messy with lots of collateral damage.”

“I think I can explain their apprehension,” April said. “Back after the war, when I was getting ready to go down to Earth for my grandpa and the rock owners, I saw that Doc Ames had some gene mods beyond the normal life extension work. I met him for breakfast and wanted to know if he’d sell at least the mod for faster reactions.”

Jeff looked surprised. “I always assumed he was offering them around quietly before he went into the business openly and approached you.”

“No, it was too soon after the war,” April said, “and Jelly was uncertain what was going to be legal and what would be prohibited. He was scared he’d start doing gene mods openly and then the Assembly would pass laws against it. That may sound silly now but he’d just come up from Earth and didn’t know how local politics would shake out. When I asked him if he’d sell me the mod I’d noticed he carried himself, he let out a big sigh of relief. He thought maybe I was going to express my personal disapproval of his business. He even intimated I might ask him to leave Home.”

“That’s Earth Think,” Jeff complained. “That’s how politics works in the big cities run by personal influence and corruption.”

“Well, he had just come up, but he said that he’d been told a lot of positive things about Home by everybody and quite a few also said not to cross the Lewis or Singh clans if you knew what was good for you.”

“That far back?” Jeff asked, and looked upset. “We were near broke and had no real history of speaking in the Assembly. I have a hard time imagining why anybody would have thought we had so much influence back then, maybe a little more, now.”

“He attributed it to the fact we wrecked a few billion dollars in Earthie satellites and shot up some of their shuttles. Then when we came back to Home we helped Jon shoot-up the invasion force that came down the North corridor. I had a hard time understanding it too. Apparently, we got a reputation for direct action very quickly. As he put it, I left a trail of expensive damage, death, and destruction, strewn closely behind me.”

Jeff laughed out loud. “That does express it concisely.”

“My point is, he said the Singh clan too. You’ve always said I have a public image as a bit of a celebrity, and all the gossip boards just regard you as the boyfriend in the background. It’s time to own up to the fact you have a reputation and influence too. You have for a long time really. Otis and Mackay know you can influence a lot of business people. You wouldn’t even have to be deliberately malevolent. Just have honest reservations about them from being turned down. People do ask your opinion and recommendations about who to go to for certain things, don’t they?”

“They do, at the bank mostly, but I’m very reluctant to say anything negative unless I had really strong reasons to do so,” Jeff insisted. “I’d rather suggest those I can say positive things about.”

“Good, keep it that way, but be aware all of us have biases, and people may have concerns about that without necessarily thinking ill of you.”

“OK, that’s very sobering,” Jeff said.

“So since you all agreed about a rescue, did they have any alternatives or cautions? Did you present my possible action for their analysis?” April asked.

“I did, in a general way. I expressed it as attacking expensive infrastructure without mentioning bridges,” Jeff said. “The only downside they saw was the danger of escalation. That they might be provoked to attempt to attack Home again or come for you personally. Of course, that’s much harder since we moved beyond the Moon. Jon has gotten pretty skilled at screening arrivals and everybody is paranoid about their freight and packages. We learned a lot from the bio-attack on the Martians. Their military is much less enthused about confronting us than their politicians, but they will if given absolute orders. After all, the ones issuing the orders don’t have to carry them out.”

April made an unhappy face with pursed lips, thinking hard. “I’ll announce I’m going to the Moon and stay away from Home. That will remove the risk of action taken against Home to catch me here. But we’ll have to set up extra security on my cubic. If people think nobody is home, they might try to take advantage.”

“That’s a kindness. Some fool might find Gunny at home,” Jeff said.

“I’ll compose a press release, but give Jon and some friends an immediate heads up as soon as I have it composed. I expect they will try to defend a bridge from being bombarded if I give advance warning, but I want to take the high road and warn people so they can stay off it if they wish. It may take a little extra effort to overcome defenses if they move mobile launchers into place, but I’m going to do it that way. I’ll try to make the warning as simple as possible and not get into name-calling.”

“Rods are so simple. If you burn the vanes off or push them out of the way, you are as likely to make them hit something more valuable than protecting what you want,” Jeff said.

“We know that, but I bet they’ll want to be seen as doing something,” April said.

* * *

Vic and Eileen’s pilot was Cal DeWitt. He was unloading goods for Mr. O’Neil when they walked out to the plane and turned away from that, not seeming to mind the interruption while O’Neil introduced them. He was even shorter than Eileen but stocky, bald on top, leaving him a gray tonsure. He offset this with a massive bushy mustache. His hand was as big as Vic’s when they shook and Vic had the unfortunate thought that he looked like a gnome lawn ornament. It was a struggle not to smile for fear the man might know why.

Cal was pleased they only had Eileen’s small backpack for luggage and asked to lift it. He hefted it with no particular expression, looked at both Vic and Eileen with an appraising eye and nodded. “You two and the pack are about 40 kilos short of what I normally will carry, assuming you both have pistols and not too much else heavy on you. I’d like you to sit in the back opposite me to help balance the plane out. I’m short,” he said to Vic, completely unconscious about it, “but I’m heavier than Eileen. I’m going to go use his outhouse and we can head back.”

When he marched off around the house O’Neil got in the door of the plane and finished handing out boxes and bags of smaller packages, Vic jumped forward and helped him, carrying them a little way to a make a pile on the grass. When Cal came back he was pulling a sturdy child’s play wagon to save O’Neil fetching it from the house. Most of the boxes fit on it and they all helped carry the rest in a single trip to the porch.

This was the first time Vic and Eileen saw the store and looked around. It had a passage through to the sturdy front door and an opening with a small counter to the right. The counter and bottom swung like a Dutch door. You didn’t walk through and pick your own things self-service, you had to point or say what you wanted.

Vic noted this with approval and said so. That would cut down on shoplifting.

“Not my original idea,” O’Neil said. “It’s like the Sari-Sari stores I used to see in the Philippines. They weren’t much more than a roof on posts, but the walls were chicken wire. You could see everything they had to buy and they’d pass it out a little window to you.”

“I’ll see you the day after tomorrow or the next if these folks don’t get their business done,” Cal said casually. There was no checking a manifest or counting boxes. They trusted each other. Cal walked around the plane and looked it over carefully. That’s as much of a preflight as it was going to get. It sort of made sense. He wasn’t going to do any mechanical work here.

“You seem kind of nervous. You have flown before, haven’t you?” Eileen asked.

“Yes, but they were big jets. It’s like the difference between going out in a big cruise ship and going out in a rowboat,” Vic said.

“Good analogy, but if I need to park this thing somewhere, I can set it down on a country road or any halfway flat piece of ground. You simply can’t do that with a jumbo.”

That sounded reasonable, but it still bothered Vic their pilot needed a thick booster seat to see over the nose of the plane to fly.

The plane vibrated a lot and most of the electronics seemed to be add-ons not original to the plane. Cal showed no inclination to climb very high and after he flew through the mountains below their peaks, making slow lazy turns, he followed a road below them east into Nevada. Vic had no idea if that was due to a lack of other navigation or to have a place to land if he needed to as he’d mentioned. One screen velcroed to the dash seemed to be a GPS, but it seemed set on a local scale rather than zoomed out to show their destination. They were given headphones that cut the noise but Cal had an irritating habit of humming under his breath from time to time.

Once, he dropped down and slowed as they passed a group of a half dozen buildings grouped around a crossroads. He looked them over without explanation and then climbed back up and increased the throttles nudging one control until an annoying beat frequency stopped. When they reached their destination Cal didn’t call anyone on the radio, they just circled the airfield once and landed. At least it did have paved runways.

There was no car rental or public terminal, just some hangers all closed up. The view was vast with distant mountains and starkly beautiful. Cal led them to a smaller hanger with an old Cessna and a beat-up old Toyota pickup. After getting the truck out, he locked back up and explained they could use it to visit their bank and the local doctor. He’d alerted the doc’s office they’d be in sometime today or tomorrow. He had a map printed out for them and said they should return it with as much gas in it as when they received it. There was one gas station in town and they ran out sometimes now, but they’d just got a delivery two days ago. The gas was all midgrade and last time he filled up it was running eighty-eight bucks a gallon. The tanker came in with two guys armed for security.

They dropped Cal off at his home partway into as much ‘town’ as there was and went to the doctor’s office. The receptionist said it would be a few minutes because the doctor was stitching up a farmhand who had to be attended to right away.

When it was their turn, Doctor Sharp informed them the law was he could provide reproductive service to anyone who was biologically mature enough to need them. He asked their relationship and nodded unsurprised when Eileen told him her abbreviated story of her family’s walk north as refugees, and her leaving her grandfather’s home because of no respect. She admitted she and Vic intended to marry from before that, so she fled to him and entered into a common-law marriage early. She described how useless she considered the callow youths otherwise available in terms that made the doctor grimace.

His eyebrows went up when she explained they had a long term goal of going to space, and starting a family too early would make a difficult task impossible.

“I have to admire setting difficult goals. Going to space is something even people in areas with access to launch services find difficult. My understanding is there aren’t any empty seats and even people with an official need get bumped down the lists. It may be easier to do so from foreign sites. I’ll privately caution you that the government has sanctions in place for many spacer jurisdictions and their products. You may be wise to keep your intentions private to avoid hostility toward your plans as displaying disloyalty.”

“Thank you. It seems silly but we’ll do that,” Eileen agreed. Vic nodded assent.

“I’m required by State and Federal law to ask some questions and keep them in my records that may seem invasive. To offer reproductive service I have to ask, are you already sexually active?” Sharp inquired.

“We’re not engaging in intercourse and mighty tired of that,” Eileen said.

“Again, I must ask if you are both here of your own free will and if you are in your home and partnership situation voluntarily? I’m obligated to call law enforcement and report if you are being coerced or abused, or kept from freely seeking to leave or move about.”

“I’m not, and it’s not going to happen. I left my family at gunpoint and I don’t need anybody to rescue me. Anybody who tries to enslave me, better plan on never sleeping.”

“I’ll take that for no,” Smart said, making a show of checking off a box on his sheet.

There were a lot of questions about her health history most were answered by ‘Never had any trouble.’ She had no numbers for things like blood pressure and hadn’t seen a doctor or had blood work done since well before The Day.

Smart took her blood pressure, asked to draw blood and send the results back via Cal and O’Neil in a sealed envelope, and examined her teeth closely. He commented that dental health deteriorated and was lost ahead of other medical services. He was happy to hear she brushed but strongly suggested getting a supply of dental floss and using it.

“Normally, I’d put a young woman like you on low dose pills, but given your residence in the autonomous zone, I’d suggest a five-year implant. I have both. The pharmacy in the supermarket closed, unfortunately. I stock what I can. Do you feel it would be a burden to visit to have it renewed?” Sharp asked.

“Who knows what is going to happen in five years, Doc? We may have bus service here by then, or the aircraft we flew in on may run out of hours and stop flying. The pilot isn’t any spring chicken and may decide to suspend service. We may even live someplace else, though it doesn’t look like that in our plans.” Vic said.

“Does the implant have to come out after it runs out of drug?” Eileen asked.

“No, not if it isn’t giving you trouble, but obviously you won’t be protected,” Sharp said. “It can be taken out earlier if your situation changes too.”

“Stick one in then,” Eileen demanded. “That’s one thing at least that we know what is planned for the next five years, probably the only thing.”

When he was done with Eileen, and all the warnings about how to treat the small incision. He repeated three times how long it would take to be effective and not to get impatient and shave the time short. Sharp gently suggested Vic have his blood pressure checked and some basic lab work while he was here.

“Do it, I don’t want you croaking on me to save a couple of dollars,” Eileen said.

“It actually will be a very minimal charge,” Sharp said. “Almost all my services are cash not insurance in this practice now. I’m just fortunate as a rural doctor serving a wide area that I’m exempt from the special draft of medical personnel now in place. I can charge much less even though some costs have soared. We are regarded as being on the fringe of the area under law. The road to Fernley is barricaded and manned by the local deputies and the side roads around it bulldozed shut. But Fernley really stops much of anything getting through from Reno. There isn’t any local mail delivery now, but the post office is open for the boxes, and a truck comes Wednesday almost every week. If you don’t have a box you have to be there to receive it unless it’s marked to be left on the counter for open pickup. If I send lab work to Reno the driver is checked out that he has valid business to get back in later. It’s not very safe down towards Reno.”

“I may have to go to the bank to pay you,” Vic worried. “I didn’t bring much cash and need to pay our pilot.”

“We can take your credit card if you have one,” Smart offered.

“That will be interesting,” Vic said. “I’m curious to see if it is accepted. I haven’t used it in several years, but it is on auto-pay so it can’t be in arrears.”

While he worked on Vic, the doc asked Eileen, “I’m curious how far you had to walk to a safe area? You owned property to retreat to?”

“We started from east of LA and had to stop and winter over. My father already had a head start on us from well north and beat us to my grandfather’s place a year ahead of us. My uncle lived all the way down by San Diego and we never heard from them. We figure they are dead given the area and their lifestyle.”

Sharp looked alarmed. “Be careful, please. In the USNA it’s a hate crime now to use religious prefixes for towns and areas. You can be fined heavily or even jailed if it’s a notorious and deliberate usage in print. San Diego is now just Diego and the San Gabriel Mountains are the Gabriel Mountains.”

“And yet Gabriel is still OK?” Vic asked, amused. “Is Los Angeles permitted or is it just Los now? I mean, angels are pretty religious.”

“Do us a favor and don’t ask. You’ll give the damn fools ideas and make it even harder.”

Vic nodded agreement, but quipped, “Glad you took my blood pressure already.”

After his exam, Vic stuck his card in the machine for the receptionist.

“Wow,” he said, when the screen showed APPROVED.

At the receptionist’s raised eyebrows Vic explained. “When you’ve been living off the grid for a couple of years it seems like magic.”

“I’m told the card companies have set up to watch closer and approve charges for necessities like medical care, vehicle repair and food over possible fraudulent charges for merchandise that might be resold,” the receptionist told them. “They even extend expiration dates for people cut off and out of contact.”

“That’s us,” Vic agreed. “But now we’ll go down the street and do some business with them face to face.”

* * *

“Why does it take them so long to do everything?” April asked.

“The Earthies? If you are talking about Irwin, I thought you didn’t want them to bring him to trial at all.”

“I don’t, but I know they are going to make a show of it. I’d just as soon get on with it. If I react now a lot of sensible people will think I am overreacting and any North American response is justified. I can see them saying that they might have released Irwin if I hadn’t got in their face and forced them to retain him or look weak and need to save face.”

“That sort of posturing is the epitome of Earth Think,” Jeff said.

“It’s theatre, and I’m not going to start reading act three before they have had a chance to do act two. The public is trained to expect a certain progression of these things, even if they are not consciously aware of it. I’m just going to disrupt their narrative when they expect to make an example of him in a show trial. Right now they are controlling the progression. After they shoot their mouths off again then it’s my turn.”

* * *

Walking in the Chase branch you’d never know The Day happened except for a few things different. Several of the windows now opened for ventilation instead of having air conditioning, and there were two guards instead of one or none, and they had shotguns.

When they were approached, Vic asked if the other people seated there weren’t ahead of them? The lady informed them a lot of residents could no longer afford cable or internet service but bank customers were welcome to use their public network.

The number two lady at the bank had no problem with Vic’s photo ID being out of date and offered them both new bank cards with photo ID on them. They were set up to create and laminate them on the spot. She assured them many places and even agencies now accepted their ID as readily as government ID.

Vic got some cash to pay for their flight and buy a few things to take back so he wouldn’t be depleting the cash he kept at home.

When he expressed surprise how ay accommodating they were and admitted he expected things to be more difficult the lady looked grim.

“Wells Fargo that was based in Frisco no longer exists. Their data was saved and their accounts have been apportioned to three banks, including us, to be held in trust without expiration, until such time as the owners or next of kin can be located or accounted for. Normally, the state would handle abandoned accounts, but the state agency and their people are missing too. It may take a century or more to sort out as things normalize as most people are found. I doubt it will ever be entirely finished.”

“I’m aware gold coins and bullion are prohibited,” Vic said. “What is the status of owning jewelry?”

The lady’s eyes went to their rings and she replied. “Gold jewelry is permitted, except the courts have ruled just hanging a coin or bullion bar on a chain after 2072 is an attempt to circumvent the law. Chase will loan money on jewelry held in trust in a local safe deposit box for which we keep both keys, but be aware that is subject to changing government regulation without notice. Also, no allowance is made for precious stones due to the uncertain market for them. When she finished she silently shook her head – no. Vic got the message.

“Eventually we intend to emigrate off Earth,” Vic said. “What is our status if we wished to buy passage or send funds off-world?”

“The Nations of Home, Central, and The Lunar Republic are substantially embargoed by North America. It is impossible to do almost any business with them, even in items that have a humanitarian impact. All the other habitats and colonies are the same as traveling to the foreign countries that have jurisdiction over them. If you announce you are emigrating you need to pay an exit fee and tax on your assets before leaving.

“If you depart unannounced your assets can be attached or seized in their entirety. Currently, none of the bank settlement systems in which North America shares freely allows transfer to the off-world nations I mentioned. I would be fined or jailed if I facilitated such transfers by making you familiar with the other payment systems that still deal with off-world banks. The gold-based tokens that the USNA denounces as not money, the unofficial currency of Home, is the solar. Possessing them or keeping accounts anywhere in them is forbidden. I’m so happy to hear you have no gold in any form to do business with us.”

“Got ya,” Vic agreed. “There’s a lot happening out here we haven’t kept up with. I can see we are going to have to proceed with caution being so out of touch. We’ve found already there are things we thought normal to say, that are prohibited now. Just out of curiosity how much gold is one of these tokens?”

“A solar is twenty-five grams. Why they abandoned the troy ounce I have no idea. Now, if I may ask, you have accounts with us and seem to have other assets. You are able to come out of the autonomous zone and return. Are you a property owner there?”

“Yes, I’ve got a ranch and hard print documents to establish ownership. I don’t have to worry the county copies will be… lost.”

“I’d suggest you obtain a satellite phone. It is a relatively large expense, but the service can be paid automatically from your accounts. It can be used as a modem to access the internet to keep current on all these external events and changes in laws and regulations. It will access most foreign domains if they are not blocking them from within, so you can compare all your options.”

“Can Chase facilitate getting one?” Vic asked.

“Not directly, but I can help you order one here today using my computer, and if you name an agent to receive documents and packages for you,” she offered. “We will hand over whatever we receive here in your name to them. We don’t advertise the service. We might get legally challenged on it, although there is not a shipping or mailbox service in town we’d be competing with. We already do this for a dozen customers in the zone.”

“Let’s do that right now,” Vic agreed. Eileen was nodding agreement too. “We’ll need a solar charger for it,” she reminded Vic. “A good one.”

“You can also use it to access your Chase account, and if you get a message asking if you are pleased with your recent Chase service this office would appreciate a positive response.”

That’s no problem.” Vic said. “You’ve exceeded my expectations for service today.”

* * *

Judging by the meals that were his only clock, it had been several days since anyone spoke to Irwin. He was effectively in isolation. He remembered that was now considered a form of torture in the estimation of psychologists, but he found it easy to sit quietly and consider all the possible consequences and scenarios in his mind. He’d never been the sort of person to need constant stimulation from music or video like some people. If anyone thought solitude would break him down and make him more pliable to accepting a plea deal or making coerced political statements they didn’t know Irwin.

The monitor screen in his room hadn’t displayed any communication since the first simple instructions about eating and returning his meal tray and the farcical interview with his court-appointed attorney. Irwin hadn’t called out to see if voice monitoring was active or if they would respond to an attempt at communication. He didn’t touch or inspect the inactive screen to see if he could summon a keyboard of speech input either. There didn’t seem any point in doing so. Nothing he could say at this point would alter the forces determining his fate. At most, it would be a display of weakness on his part.

When the tone sounded again Irwin looked at the screen with his poker face.

“Ah, Mr. Brooks. I’ve been wondering when you would inform me of my arraignment.”

“That has already happened, and I automatically entered a plea of not guilty.”

Irwin blinked, unbelieving. “I get no opportunity to stand before the court and hear what I am accused of doing?”

“You were given those documents at the time of your arrest,” Brooks said.

“Indeed, and you were informed they took those documents from me when I was processed here,” Irwin said. “Did you make any effort to have them restored to me?”

“It seemed pointless,” the attorney said. “The charges are highly technical and most defendants aren’t versed in law sufficiently to understand their import. That’s my job.”

“If you were my attorney I’d fire you for that alone,” Irwin said. “However, since I never hired you and don’t acknowledge you it seems pointless for me to order you to do anything. I’d point out I am an international banker and well informed of the complex laws and regulations governing banking. Probably better than you if it is not your specialty in law.”

“I’m informing you now,” Brooks told him, irritated. “You will be tried on this matter in two weeks. They wish to move right along and brought in a special visiting judge so the matter wouldn’t be delayed into next year.”

“Yes, if you delayed it that long it will have completely passed from the public’s short memory and have very little propaganda value. Just out of curiosity – what would you do if I wished to plead guilty?”

“Why would you possibly consider that?” Brooks asked, horrified.

“It would completely destroy the theatre value of the trial,” Irwin said. “I’m sure the prosecutor has a real circus planned and a guilty plea would short circuit all that. What is the downside since the outcome is predetermined anyway? It saves both of us the need to sit and listen to all that crap.”

“If I tried to plead guilty for you the judge would probably remove me as your attorney. There are important questions that need to be examined and established here as a matter of law that a guilty plea would leave unsettled.”

“Silly me, I thought it was all about me personally,” Irwin said. “But what will you do if I call out in open court that I want to plead guilty?”

“Oh, there’s no danger of that. The court will be closed to the public because so much of it touches on national security issues. No excerpts of the record will be released to the news agencies before it is carefully examined to avoid damaging government agents and confidential policies. You will observe remotely by video hookup and have an open channel to me if you wish to make any comments or ask any questions.”

“Nice little star chamber you boys got there.”

Brooks didn’t dignify that with a response.

Chapter 8

Vic and Eileen found the two stores open in town were a small grocery and the store that served farmers. The food section was consolidated to about half the store with most items available in one brand. They had cheese and some meat, mostly pork, but no fresh milk and only the easiest vegetables to ship. No lettuce, stone fruits, or exotics like avocados, but surprisingly, bananas, and one kind of bagged apples.

The rest of the store was given over to hardware, housewares, and sewing supplies. A set of shelves on one wall was given over to consignment items.

Vic was happy to get bagged socks and disposable razors, Eileen got sanitary napkins and a big bottle of aspirin. They got lined paper as pads. The only loose sheets were printer paper and it was both plain and heavy. A couple of two-kilo bags of beans weren’t bought to eat but as seed. They picked four bananas as a treat and then decided to buy six to include Cal. They had no canning lids but the farm store did, as well as the thermometers they needed. Vic took a deep breath, smiled, and ignored the price.

They got two nine-volt batteries, and carrot seed packaged for last year. The clerk pointed out the expiration date, but Vic was willing to take a chance it might not all germinate. He bought feed corn to plant, there being no certified seed corn. They’d need it if they got chickens. There wasn’t much else left in their garden stock that they couldn’t get from seed savers at the festival. They filled Cal’s truck up all the way, since he hadn’t asked any rental fee for its use, and went back to his house.

When they returned to Cal’s they said they didn’t see anywhere in town to stay and asked if there was a boarding house or something? He was amused. There were two houses taking borders, and both had waiting lists. He said he just expected that when he brought passengers out and that a room was part of the fee. He seemed indifferent to being named their agent at the bank and didn’t ask another fee for that. That made the cost they’d already negotiated seem even more reasonable to Vic, and Cal was pleased with the bananas. They were an expensive treat.

* * *

“I don’t understand,” April said. “They aren’t splashing big headlines about arresting Irwin and charging him across all the news services like I expected. What is the point of taking such a major risky action if they aren’t going to publicize it? It’s listed in the docket and a couple hard to find news articles.”

“You’re asking me?” Jeff said. “You are the one I go to for social things and to try to make sense of all the crazy things people do, well, you and Heather too. Maybe they don’t see it as risky for all I know. Maybe they believe their own propaganda. Or maybe they think it will have more impact later after they actually convict him. Who knows?”

“I’m not going to wait that long,” April vowed. “Certainly not let them convict him and sit back waiting to see how they use it. I’ll make a statement tomorrow.”

Jeff nodded. He didn’t expect April to show a lot of patience if there wasn’t any action to move things forward. It just wasn’t her personality.

“Oh, speaking of crazy people,” Jeff remembered, “Chen informs us from public documents that the Martians announced a list of thirty people they are sending back to Earth on the next supply run of the Sandman. Most of them are researchers doing serious science and not all of their big money charity backers are happy with that. Chen says not only does he not have anyone on the inside on Mars but with personnel being reduced not replaced he has no way to recruit anyone headed there.”

“I’m surprised they aren’t trying to recruit high end technology people to study the wreck,” April said.

“How could they?” Jeff suddenly realized. “They are in an untenable position. The sorts of people they need aren’t going to sign on without knowing in detail for what they are being recruited and their secrecy won’t allow that. Letting what serious researchers they already have go isn’t making them more attractive either. They’ve painted themselves in a corner.”

“We know what their real business is so it’s no surprise that they don’t want to expend their resources on geologists and such. To be honest, Mars is kind of on the back burner for me while I worry about Irwin,” April said.

* * *

“Cal, I imagine you have flights with heavy loads and light loads?” Vic asked.

“Uh-huh,” Cal answered warily.

“If you don’t mind acting as our agent, there’s something else I’d like you to bring in.”

“I have an agreement with O’Neil to not supply any competition to his store,” Cal said.

“I don’t think this would apply. I don’t see him wanting to deal in bulky items,” Vic said. I would really like to get bicycles for Eileen and myself, but they are too bulky. I’d like you to bring in the frame, and then maybe the wheels, and then the seat and a basket, and what do you call those things like saddlebags?”

“Panniers,” Cal said, “I rode bikes when I was younger and had good knees, but if I were you I’d get the flat seat in the back that somebody can ride on or you can hang panniers over it either way. You can clamp a big box or basket on it too. You don’t want a road bike either. A mountain bike or fat tire bike would suit you better I’d wager.”

“Yes, something that we can ride to Festival markets or maybe even to O’Neils in one day from my ranch. You seem to know about them. Would you feel up to taking a couple apart in conveniently sized pieces to transport to us?” Vic asked.

Cal considered it before replying. “We can order stuff up from Reno, but I fly the other way too occasionally, over to Utah. I could probably even find used for you, but I suggest buying new in a box that are already disassembled. You aren’t riding around the subdivision for exercise, you need these to be dependable. I’d open them up and make sure all the pieces are there, get several sets of extra tubes, a patch kit, at least one extra tire, and an extra set of wheel bearings. Sound good?”

“Sounds wonderful,” Vic said. “Tell me how much money you need to make it happen. When you have all the parts for two bikes to Mr. O’Neil we’ll come to get them.”

Cal named a price, and Vic didn’t argue at all, just paid him cash.

“Right now I can carry more than in the summer. Cool air gives you more lift and power. I’ll try to get them to you before the worst weather in winter cut my flights way down. I only trust the weather reports so far, and I think they have lost so many reporting stations and people the reliability is way down, so I don’t try to see how close I can shave to a storm, I go when I’m sure I have a clear day both sides of my trip. Mostly, I stay over instead of returning the same day like with you folks. I’ll put the bikes together in my evenings at O’Neil’s for you, since I know how. If I can’t get all the pieces moved and assembled this year it will have to wait for the spring to finish up.”

“I doubt we’d come to get them in the winter anyway,” Vic said. “Take your time.”

“Remember how our borrowed dirt bike is painted?” Eileen asked. “I’d like some brown and gray spray paint, and maybe a can of green, if you can get the dull camo stuff that’s better too.”

“Yes Ma’am, I can apply it too.” Cal said. “That’s lighter than bringing the cans.”

They had spaghetti for supper and Eileen gushed over it so much Cal looked embarrassed. It was just jar sauce but a rarity now in the zone. That he had cheese and pepper flakes for on it even more of a treat. The fact he had an inside bathroom with running hot water almost moved Eileen to tears.

Cal didn’t seem in a hurry in the morning. Cal never seemed in that big a hurry over anything. Eileen thought Vic was laid back but Cal made her antsy. They had hotcakes with the first real butter she’d had in over a year.

The day was clear and the weather was discussed at some length. Cal did a much longer pre-flight and checked things inside the engine cowls, which made Eileen feel better even if she had no idea what he was looking at. They loaded up as much for Mr. O’Neil as would fit with them flying too and locked the truck away.

The return trip was uneventful. He buzzed the same set of buildings at a crossroads and Vic’s curiosity got to him. “Got friends there?” he asked Cal.

“Got business,” Cal admitted. “If they put a big red flag out I’d stop on the way back for a passenger pickup. The north-south road is safe to land, they keep it swept and there are no cross wires. If they have too much snow on the ground but they still want to send something out badly enough I’ll orbit and drop a bucket down on a line. I can drop small stuff off that way too, but mostly I just pack it really well and drop it on the intersection.” He made a long Dopplered whistling noise like a bomb dropping and seemed pleased with himself.

Vic, however, got quiet. Eileen could see he was thinking.

“In a plane like this, our home is very close to O’Neil’s,” Vic said. “I doubt it would take you ten minutes to divert to it coming or going.

“But do you have anywhere to land? I’m very particular about that,” Cal said.

“No, and no hope of preparing a strip,” Vic admitted, “but you could shove stuff out the door if you had a good map and an agreed-upon signal like you have with those people back there. We have a satellite phone coming and might need other things. If you think you could pack them well enough to survive.”

“Shucks, I could drop shell eggs to you as far as packing them. Get me a decent map made when we are at O’Neil’s and it’s easy. What will you use as a marker?”

“I have a huge blue tarp. I’ll stake it out on the front lawn and put an ugly pink blanket I hate in the middle of it. That should be distinctive enough,” Vic said.

Cal snorted through his nose. “That would be obvious from a thousand meters. If you’ll put a windsock or flag out it’ll help me both on the drop and the best approach.”

* * *

April picked an obviously lunar background to record her message. She wanted it visibly certain she wasn’t at Home. Home was an easier target than Central which was much safer from attack. Indeed, Central had been nuked already by China, and survived just fine. Only one attacking Chinese ship survived and it surrendered. Striking at them again looked to be a wasted effort that invited significant retribution.

“I’m April Lewis, a citizen of Home. I’m issuing this as a press release because I have never had any success in the past communicating with the North America government through private channels.

“They have arrested my friend and fellow Home citizen, Irwin Hall. He was on a flight from Havana to Europe, which diverted to Miami due to mechanical problems with his hypersonic. Basically, he was arrested for the coins he had in his pocket. It would have been a simple matter to return a distressed traveler to Havana. It would have also been in keeping the terms of our treaty for safe passage through their territory.

“As a citizen of Home, I have never been constrained from acting for myself or my friends even against sovereign powers. I am not declaring a new war, because North America has already declared a return to war by failing to uphold the treaty that ended it.

“You will return my friend who you took in a false arrest or I shall economically damage you until such time as you release him. Your word means nothing to me. You must keep your prior agreement by demonstration. Publicly release Irwin Hall or I shall start inflicting a world of economic hurt on North America.

“I choose not to hold the common citizens of North America responsible for what their government has forsworn. Others may not be so kind, but I will make every effort to avoid harming people.

“I’ll announce my first economic target tomorrow at eleven hundred hours Zulu time, an hour before it is struck, to give everyone ample opportunity to be out of the target zone.

“However, if Irwin comes to harm at your hands I’ll take blood for blood and you won’t like what I consider a reasonable trade. Be warned.”

* * *

April got a text the next morning before breakfast. It wasn’t coded as a priority to wake her up. “Have you read the responses to your declaration?” Heather asked.

“My com code is public if anyone wanted to respond. I gave them almost a full day to respond and – I have zip. I haven’t had a single message until you called,” April said.

“There isn’t anything on the commercial news services. The private media is full of all sorts of weird comments. One popular commentator denounced you as the insane psychopathic Moon Queen. I think he has you confused with me.”

"Have you looked at any of the Home boards or just Earth-side?" April asked.

"There were a few remarks on 'What's Happening'. Some dark humor about selling off North American stock before you reduce them to rubble. The only one who brought up calling an Assembly did so to specifically recommend waiting to see what you did before obligating us to officially address the North American treachery. That phraseology tells you his thinking. He felt like you, that there wouldn't be any way to do that short of the catastrophic. There wasn’t a lot of discussion of how the Earthie public seems to regard it on social sites. Since there doesn't seem to be an official response yet it's dangerous for them to go on record saying anything. That filter means those commenting are the intemperate ones. They might go on record and then have the officials surprise them by going the other way."

“Why torture yourself with all that brain rot?” April asked. “If there is no official announcement, they intend to let the deadline pass.”

“Of course they do! Did you really entertain any hope they’d back down without being made to do so?” Heather asked.

“No,” April admitted.

“What do you intend to target?” Heather asked. “Jeff said something to me about discussing it with you but I don’t remember if you made a final choice.”

“I’m going to drop the Greenville Bridge across the Mississippi,” April said. “It’s the first one north of Texas territory now. It will diminish their ability to shift troops and equipment to either side of the river in response to the Texans. Texan proximity gives that choice a lot of leverage beyond the utility value of the bridge. If they don’t let Irwin go, I intend to continue north and take out the bridges to at least Memphis. Past that, I don’t know. Since they hate gold so much I considered bombarding Fort Knox.”

“Greenville, did we knock that one down during the war?” Heather tried to remember.

“No, it was one of the few we spared. It wasn’t near a big city to be highly visible. We did others that were more disruptive. They did replace a Memphis bridge and have another still under construction. The disruption of river traffic will be a greater inconvenience than the loss of the Greenville Bridge.”

“I know your mind is on this, but I want to mention something I discussed with Jeff. The Hringhorni will be coming back soon. I’ve accepted Laja Obarzanek to apprentice with us to pilot. The problem is she and her mother are certain we have a star drive. It’s going to be awkward training her if our people have to guard everything they say and can’t let her near a jump capable ship.”

“Them and everybody in traffic control and connected with Dave’s shop. It’s only a secret from anybody who can’t do math or is behind the firewalls of most Earth nations. I can’t believe their military doesn’t know and the Martians certainly do by now.”

“Indeed, Frymeta said it was the worst kept secret on the Moon, and indignantly told me she wouldn’t play stupid security games pretending otherwise,” Heather said.

“Can you blame her?” April asked. “It stinks of Earth Think if you play pretend after it isn’t a secret to anyone but the most oblivious.”

“I’m glad you agree. It’s like we discussed before. Once you start dividing your people into those trusted and those not it proliferates. You lose honest input and end up with endless layers of different values of secrets. You have to create a bureaucracy to manage it that soon dwarfs the original groups and their functions. My thought, and Jeff agreed, is for all our people to be in or out at one level. The actual functioning details of things like the drive can still be a secret, but below the three of us, the fact they exist is something we won’t try to keep them from discussing.”

“I’d go one better,” April insisted. “Since we messed up and let the French see our marker at Centauri it’s past looking silly to pretend it’s a secret and tell traffic control we are departing to uncontrolled space. Have them say they are departing to extrasolar space if they aren’t going to Mars or somewhere insystem. If you don’t want to name the star fine, but stop being coy and mysterious. It just looks stupid. If it upsets the Earthies, tough.”

“Thank you. I’ll ask Jeff if he’s good with that extension too.”

“Incoming message from Chen,” April said. “Are you getting it too?

“No, not yet. Take it. I’ll get back to you later, dear,” Heather said, and disconnected.

* * *

"Miss Lewis," Chen said. It didn't bode well when Chen started formally. "I have deployed some assets to track responses to your news release. I knew you were contemplating such an action from Jeffery, but I could have set those things in motion earlier if you had shared your timeline with me.”

“This isn’t a company action that I feel free to use resources Jeff and Heather own too. In fact, it isn’t tied to any of my own business ventures. It’s strictly something I personally felt I had to do for myself,” April said. “I made it clear with the video that I’m not on Home too. I didn’t want to bring down trouble on them since they are more vulnerable.”

Chen blinked, which was like wild hand waving in normal excitable people. He wondered if she asked Heather’s permission to insinuate she was on the Moon?

“That’s fine,” Chen allowed. “Still, you must realize very few people are capable of seeing or caring about the nuanced reasons behind your actions. What you do isn’t divided neatly into separate sections of your life to people who don’t know you. You have one public persona for better or for worse.

“I’m sure there is a black and white distinction in your mind, but I’ll admit I have to squint,” which he did to illustrate the point, “and look very hard to see that line myself. Most people see everything in fuzzy gray instead of black and white. Your actions will precipitate all sorts of responses, which affect both the common business with your partners, and political consequences that touch everybody on Home and Central. Why did you not recruit both your partners and supporting assets such as myself and my network to your cause? Do you not think we support you on a personal level beyond the cold calculations of business interests and profit or loss?”

“Thank you. That’s sweet of you to say. I consider you a friend too,” April avowed. “It’s just, if I asked everybody to go along with me it could have been very damaging to the sort of friendship you are intimating exists, not just in you, but in others too.”

“Why?” Chen asked, still perplexed.

“Because I’m going to do it even if everybody I know advises me against it,” April said.

Chen opened his mouth and with a visible effort closed it on something unsaid. He did the blinking thing again, furiously. April let him take the time to process his thoughts.

“OK, since we are dealing in absolutes, I’ll phrase things that way for you,” Chen said. “You are in error. Our support and friendship do not hinge on an unbroken string of approval. One difference of opinion will not destroy our relationship, that it must be avoided at all costs. In fact, you have sufficient goodwill credit built up that most of us would allow a screw-up of monumental proportions to pass as an unfortunate aberration and move on.

“To look at the other side of the coin – I hope your approval of us does not hinge on your friends continuing in some sort of angelic perfection going forward. I, for one, can’t survive that sort of scrutiny. I make mistakes, frequently.”

“Thank you, again,” April said. “I expect that from Heather and Jeff, but we made formal vows when we declared our revolution, and Jon and I vowed a formal alliance.”

“If all that is lacking in your mind is the formal declaration of what I thought was an obvious reality, then allow me to declare I am your friend, not just a hireling, and intend to treat you as such going forward. I thought – hoped – this was evident before.”

“I accept,” April said. “I need to have things stated plainly. Heather doesn’t leave people to guess if someone is her subject or her peer. She does a formal swearing. People don’t get married or form business partnerships without a clear declaration unless they are fools or crooked. It lets them sit on the fence and jump whichever way is convenient. I wish people did clear declarations like that more, rather than less.

“Whatever are you suddenly watching you weren’t before? I’m getting no feedback from the North Americans at all. With Home people, I take silence for assent, but it seems when Earthies are silent it means the opposite.”

It jarred Chen how briefly April accepted and moved on, but it was in character.

“Official silence is rejection,” Chen agreed. “In their world to even reply directly is to give you credibility. To acknowledge you is to say you are worthy of a reply. It’s almost a form of power-sharing, saying that you are a player. I’m looking at what people do rather than what they say or don’t say.”

“So, what are they doing and how does it have anything to do with me?” April asked.

“The road traffic for Miami showed a three percent uptick from normal in the outbound lanes, since your announcement. That’s unusual. Flights out of Miami are all booked solid and inbound flights have reduced bookings and no-shows already.

“International carriers have added two charter flights to Havana today, and private jets have filed more flight plans than usual out of the smaller Dade County airports.

“Elsewhere, three USNA nuclear subs in port have hatches open and activity. Three wholesale grocers who supply them have trucks backed up and loading before normal business hours. They are getting ready to put out to sea on an emergency basis. There was no public recall so they went to the trouble to notify crew by secure means.

“One of their carriers that survived the war was in the Atlantic on a course that would have taken it to Gibraltar and the Mediterranean. Twenty minutes after your manifesto it turned abruptly north having a sudden urge to visit Greenland. The high latitudes, not under the common orbital passes have been safer from orbital bombardment.

“All this indicates private assessment that you may indeed take action against something in Miami or elsewhere as threatened,” Chen concluded.

“They have no clue,” April said, amused. “I said I was going to hurt them economically. What would I hit in Miami, and how are military targets all that disruptive to their economy? No, I’m going to take down the Greenville bridge across the Mississippi.” She examined the clock in the corner of her screen. “Soon.”

Chen stared at her and thought. “Texas. You are using Texas as a weapon.”

“Indeed, you understand very quickly. I bet they will too,” April said.

“I thought maybe you’d put a half dozen rods through the Federal Courthouse when they put him on trial. He’ll be kept in the lockup and tied in by video conference,” Chen said. “That’s just standard procedure now, not just high profile cases.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, depending on how much they irritate me,” April promised.

“What do you expect them to do in response to taking the bridge down?” Chen asked.

“To me? Nothing. Since you are watching, you may see them bring more military assets forward to around the 33rd Parallel. I’m guessing they keep less positioned forward there if they figure they can shift assets either way across the river. With the bridge gone they’ll need to duplicate some things on both sides.”

“So you already have an escalation plan,” Chen said.

“I’ll just keep working north taking bridges down to Memphis. If they let me get that far without yielding I’m not sure continuing north even past St Louis would make a difference.”

“So, if Texas decides you have given them an edge do you expect them to advance along the west bank or the east bank?” Chen asked.

“Neither. They wouldn’t need to advance very far north before they’d have the same problem of not being able to shift forces across the river that weakened the North Americans. If they are made bold it will be in another area, perhaps Oklahoma, because they see less chance of the USNA pushing back at the new eastern border.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Chen said, “but I feel an itch, like we are missing something.”

“Well, since you volunteered, keep watching them to see what happens,” April said.

“Oh, I will,” Chen agreed, “and I’ll get a couple more analysts watching satellite images of those border areas for changes in their deployments.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

O’Neil’s store had customers. There were two horses tied up to his sign out front. Cal made his usual low pass to inspect the runway. The horses didn’t like that, prancing around, but not so upset they pulled their reins loose or bolted away. As they circled around again a woman hurried down from the store to calm them.

“Do you have any signal, in case somebody is waiting at the store to rob you or steal the plane when you come in? Vic asked.

“There is an all-clear signal, but you have no need to know it,” Cal said. “I knew these folks were OK even without that. The horses have rifle scabbards on them, and they left their rifles in them when they went in the store.”

The landing was smooth. Cal turned the aircraft at the end, pointed back down the grass strip. Vic and Eileen pitched in unloading, unasked. Cal stopped several times and examined the nearby woods, unhappy.

“Do you see someone? Is there some movement out there?” Vic asked Cal, worried.

“No, I’m looking at the leaves moving. I planned on staying overnight. There will probably be rain, but the wind here is early according to the weather report I saw back home. I think I better taxi over where there are some tie-down rings and secure the plane for tonight. It should be clearing up by mid-morning and I’ll be out of here.”

O’Neil’s house was a big old monster with four bedrooms on the second floor. He had plenty of room for the Foys and Cal. They all had a simple quiet supper together. O’Neil was visibly nervous until two young men showed up and he spoke with them outside.

“That’s my extra security for tonight,” he told them when he came to the table and was much more relaxed. “I have them overnight whenever Cal stays over, but they usually hear the plane and show up earlier than they did today.”

Vic and Eileen slept easier for knowing they were out there too.

Chapter 9

April used the same background for her latest announcement to reinforce her location in people’s minds. Of course, it could be a ploy and most intelligence services wouldn’t assume it true even if the transmission routing seemed valid. She put on a sad face and it wasn’t any problem to do so. It was genuinely depressing and tiresome that nobody in North America had bothered to respond to her. Irwin was still being held prisoner.

“Hello, North America. I am April Lewis. I’m not going to recap my previous transmission. It’s available archived if you haven’t seen it. You are holding my friend Irwin Hall prisoner in violation of your treaty with Home. I promised I would start inflicting economic harm if he wasn’t released. In an hour the Mississippi Bridge at Greenville will be dropped in the river. I’d really rather not hurt people, even stupid ones, so please clear off the bridge. If you deflect my shots you may cause more damage than letting them arrive on target. If you could not defend against my recent bombardment of Vandenberg, a ballistic missile interceptor base, you certainly aren’t going to successfully defend a rural bridge. If somebody wants to call to warn the Greenville police, they may care more about protecting their locals from harm than the idiots in Vancouver.

“This is just the start not the end of the matter. If you don’t release Irwin the cost of failing to keep your treaty it is going to get increasingly expensive.”

It was a half-hour before Chen called. April already had several groups of rods in orbit designated to hit the bridge. She wasn’t planning on using anything heavier.

“May I speak to you without interfering with your direction of the strike?” Chen asked.

“It’s all set up, just waiting for the final command,” April assured him. “I’ll put you on a split-screen. Talk away and show me anything you care to,” she invited.

“I have a rented feed of the border area. I’m putting the general view of a three-hundred kilometer square centered around Greenville on your screen.

“Both North America and Texas have significant forces covering both sides of the river not far south. There is armor on both sides dug in and able to cover the river with direct fire. The armor has its own short-range air defenses. There is also heavier artillery set back to cover the entire area. What may be of more interest to you is the longer range mobile air and ballistic missile defenses to protect that artillery. There are units near Monticello and Indianola on the North American side,” Chen said, marking those on the map. “There are Texan units east of Monroe on the west side. On the east, there is a much bigger group of forces between Jackson and Yazoo. It seems dedicated to protecting Jackson and has a significant number of troops, more armor held in reserve, and a forward airfield that may become a permanent base. They have cordoned off part of the Jackson airport and National Guard field to the other side of Jackson for supply transport, helicopter, and platform operations. However, they seem to be keeping combat operations in the base they just set up with a much better perimeter.”

“So the Greenville Bridge is already in range of their artillery,” April said, looking at the map. “They could take it down anytime they wish.”

“Two precision rounds, at either end of the bridge would do it very nicely. It would only take a couple of minutes to ram them in the breech and send them on their way,” Chen said. “But they drew the line at the thirty-third parallel. That was a political decision and they took the territory with almost no casalities or other costs. Finding out just how far north they could have pushed would have been much more expensive.”

“Hang on,” April told Chen. She gave the final commands to a half dozen rods.

“They have six incoming in about twelve minutes. Get some video if it isn’t too much trouble,” April requested.

“Absolutely, I’m going to record the entire campaign as much as possible. If anybody gets pix from the ground I’ll archive that too,” Chen promised.

Chen’s map on the wall expanded to show most of Arkansas and a circle showed where her group of rods was incoming from the west. They didn’t actually show since he hadn’t added the infrared overlay.

“Oh neat, we have somebody streaming video live,” Chen said. The bottom quarter of the screen opened up and showed the bridge a hundred meters or so away down a street. Cop cars with lights flashing and city trucks blocked the road right at the bridge. Barely visible lights showed there was a similar roadblock at the far end of the bridge. Black and white striped barricades with ‘street closed’ signs, held the traffic back at the first cross street from where the video was being streamed.

It was a little shaky until the person shooting it lowered it and braced himself on the hood of a car that appeared in the bottom of the feed, but it was much steadier.

Nothing happened for a couple of minutes, then the police and a couple of other city workers started running away from the bridge leaving the cars there with lights still flashing. The photographer briefly panned to show the officers reach the stopped traffic behind the barricades and take shelter behind the front cars.

Turning back to the bridge the streamer tilted the phone to the sky and showed contrails with bright sparks at their tips, climbing into the distance off the right side of the bridge. They climbed away to the southwest at an angle, crossing behind the bridge in the view. They rose in pairs, four times, until there were eight in the air.

“My guys say the radar they are using indicates those are the older SM-12 land launch variants,” Chen said. “They are still pretty good. They are murder on aircraft and normal ballistic missiles but your rods have nothing vital for them to hit. If they get a close hit and strip the vanes off any of them, they are still coming down pretty close to the bridge. It will just mess up the terminal guidance. How do you have them targeted?”

“Three on each tower,” April said. “I’ll wait and see if they do the job before I commit more. Rods are cheap but I may need a lot of them before this is over.”

“You wanted to hurt them economically. They are shooting hundred million dollar missiles at fifty-thousand dollar rods. You don’t even have to hit anything to make that a very bad deal for them,” Chen said.

The rods coming in from the west were a barely visible group of glowing dots one could mistake for airplane landing lights. Their heat shields were very hot, but only a hundred millimeters across. Coming straight at the observers near the bridge, they gave no impression of great speed at a distance. They drifted back and forth slightly but stayed in a group as their vanes made slight adjustments to keep them on target.

Far up in the sky, the climbing contrails merged with the glowing dots and fireballs erupted, too far away for the sound to reach the ground. There were two delayed flashes from the missiles that missed and self-destructed. Nothing happened again for an agonizing few seconds, and then a trio of rods arrived at the far tower almost simultaneously. The glowing heat shields were only seen sideways briefly so that they drew a bright line across one’s vision the last couple of hundred meters. They crossed that distance so quickly the eye couldn’t turn fast enough to track it. The concrete tower disappeared in a noisy ripple of flashes and ground shaking thuds, quickly obscured by an expanding cloud of concrete dust. The blink of an eye later the near tower caught a rod high up, shattering the top half before the support cables to the center span had time to fall.

The attached bridge deck, suddenly unsupported, dropped in the river. Chunks of concrete and pieces of rebar and cable from both towers continued to rain down everywhere long after the bridge deck was gone below the river surface. Even as far back as the barricades, pieces fell large enough to dent the automobiles and shatter windshields.

A wave from the bridge deck hitting the water sped away down-river.

Two late-arriving rods nudged off course by missiles hit. One raised a giant plume of water to the left about a kilometer down-river. The other rod arrived tumbling and hit the police cars on the bridge approach. A giant dark plume of dirt and car parts was blown to the right with a bone jarring bang. When it all settled there was an elongated pit in the road and extending east across the shoulder. Of the cars, there wasn’t anything left. If the city trucks behind them survived being struck directly they were now gone, blown in the river.

The entire deck of the bridge was down and the far tower barely a stub sticking out of the water. The near tower was only trimmed halfway down to where a short section of deck hung off the near side, but the abbreviated tower was bent to the east, crooked.

“That’s a shame. It’s wasn’t a half bad looking old bridge,” Chen said.

“I know, I feel like a vandal, but it beats killing people,” April said.

“Oh, you will eventually. You might as well get used to the idea. If you announce a few more bridges as targets some fool will decide to hold a block party on one,” Chen said.

* * *

Vic didn’t try to rush Eileen in the morning, but the way he gathered their things and prepared to leave before breakfast spoke to his desire to get moving. He didn’t gulp down breakfast but neither did he sit back relaxed and have a second cup of coffee.

Cal was short on chitchat too, and both men thanked Mr. O’Neil quickly and announced their mutual intent to leave almost simultaneously. Eileen already had her few things downstairs by their bags and rifles, ready to go.

Cal did hold back long enough to give Vic a hand before he went to his plane, steadying the dirt bike from the other side as he eased it down the steps onto the yard. They were on the bike leaving while he was still doing a walk-around preflight. O’Neil was sitting on his steps watching his guests leave. His night watchmen were with him, waiting for Call to take off before they went home.

The road going back home was familiar now, and Eileen could see from his actions Vic had an impressive memory. He would let off the throttle and coast to be quieter anticipating a home around the next curve. She remembered the route but not in such fine detail.

They dropped off their tablets and thermometers to John the chicken farmer. That reduced the bulk on the bike and made Eileen a little more comfortable. They saw only one woman weeding her garden and she straightened up and regarded them passing without a friendly wave. It was near mid-day on a long flat straightaway when Vic suddenly braked and pulled to the side of the road so he could make a sweeping turn and go back if he needed to. Eileen looked over his shoulder and saw a figure standing in the road far ahead. It was a good two hundred and fifty meters ahead and the person took off a large brimmed hat and waved it at them.

“I’m not going to go forward into an ambush,” Vic said. “It looks like a child to me even at this distance. I won’t be suckered into thinking that means they are no danger and stopping. If he doesn’t start forward to meet us right away I’m going back and take a long route around. We can see well back from both sides of the road here so nobody can advance parallel to the road with him.”

“How far will a bypass take us out of our way?” Eileen asked.

“From what I remember there’s a county dirt road that loops the other side of a long ridge. I haven’t been down it, but I’d guess it will add two or three hours to our day if it is as windy as most of those side roads. I’d have to go cautiously and slower.”

The figure ahead started jogging their way. It was made more obvious by the hat that was not returned to his head but held in one hand, pumping as he ran. Vic made half the turn to go back the other way, stopping sideways in the road, and examined behind them carefully to make sure nobody was coming from that side.

When he got close, they saw they’d assumed wrong. What they assumed a boy, was actually a young girl. She was about eleven or twelve-years-old and extremely skinny, but definitely feminine, if not visibly so from a distance. Her long hair was tied back with a rag and her clothing not much better than rags too. Her shoes were wrapped in duct tape and her jeans had holes at the knees and by the pockets that were honest wear. Her t-shirt was frayed all along the neck opening and had a variety of random holes. She’d sprinted too hard and looked like she might faint when she tried to speak, leaning over and putting her hands on her knees panting.

“Catch your breath before you keel over,” Vic said. “We’ll wait a minute for you.” He still looked around making sure the delay wouldn’t endanger them. He turned the motor off not seeing any danger.

The girl nodded her understanding and it was more like two full minutes before she started breathing slower and stood back straight.

“Don’t go down the road,” She finally said. “They’re going to ambush you and steal your bike and whatever else you’ve got. They have been talking about how to do it ever since you rode past the other way. They heard it go past both ways once before. I’ve been planning to run away all summer long and it’s getting to be too late in the year if I didn’t do it soon. I couldn’t let them kill you and decided I’d try to save you, hoping you’d help me to get away.”

“Is this your family?” Eileen asked. She’d left home under a cloud too, and wasn’t going to be quickly judgmental.

“No, my mom and dad died last winter and I knew there was a family down the road. I walked down there for help but it was a big mistake. It’s Mr. Olsen and his three sons. They came and took everything they wanted from our house and me too. They’ve been off the other way down the road to a fair, but they left me at home with one of the sons both times to watch me and guard their place. They made clear they intend to keep me a secret from other people so I could be their slave. I’m not family and never will be. They laugh and joke crudely about it in front of me so I knew I didn’t have long before I had to run away. It’s been two days since I ran away and I was starting to worry you weren’t coming past again.”

“How far to the Olsen place?” Vic asked nodding down the road.

“I’m not good at guessing. I walked this direction a little each day but stayed in the woods afraid they’d come looking for me and see me on the road before I saw them. I had to climb down through two hollows and back up the other side where the road went around them, so it was slow going.”

“What’s your name honey?” Eileen asked.

“I’m Alice Price, and no Olsen,” she said, emphatically.

“Where were you going to run since you’d have to go past the house to try to reach the fairgrounds?” Eileen wondered.

“I was going to sleep in the woods and sneak around the house on the down-hill side to come out on the road to the far side,” Alice said. “I have no idea what is down the road this way. I don’t think they can imagine me doing anything like that. I’ve been careful to do whatever they say and act scared and helpless for them.”

“What do you expect us to do to help you?” Vic asked.

“Just help me get to some other people who won’t think they own me. Or if I have to be a slave at least treated better than what they said they had planned for me.”

Eileen looked at the ugly expression on her face and decided not to press for details.

“Do you think they might have heard the bike already?” Vic asked.

Alice screwed her face up in thought. “Sound really carries a long way and it’s across a couple of hollows to their house. But they might be closer if they’re out looking for me. If you make it go fast so it’s really loud they might hear you. They barely heard you pass before. They ran down to the road just in time to see you before you were gone out of sight. You aren’t thinking of trying to go fast to just zoom past are you?”

“Not at all. In fact, it’s our habit to coast past as quiet as possible when we see a mailbox. I’m going to go back to the last road that goes off around this long ridge,” Vic said, waving his arm at the line of hills to his left. “That will come back to this road well beyond and go to where Mr. Mast runs the fair you heard about. I’m not sure what we can arrange for you, but we’ll find someone who doesn’t think you are livestock,” Vic said with a nasty sneer. “We’ll make sure people know about the Olsens too. I’m going to start the bike again. After I’m seated, you put a leg up over the tank here and I’ll help you up in front of me. You can’t weigh that much. I don’t think the bike will have any trouble with it.”

Vic kicked the bike to life without giving it any throttle. That would make a loud bark of noise he wanted to avoid. Being warm it started easily. Once it was running Alice stood close and gripped the handlebar in her right hand, throwing her left leg up over the tank until her knee was hooked across it. Vic took her by the hips and lifted her into place. There really wasn’t much to her, she was so skinny. They both shifted around until she was seated leaning forward with her hands on the tank. It didn’t pass his notice that Alice involuntarily shuddered at his touch. The Olsens had a lot to answer for in his book. He’d talk to Mr. Mast about that.

Vic finished his turn back the way they’d come, his feet riding the pavement and feathering the clutch carefully until it was fully engaged so that they were rolling at a fast walk with the engine just idling. He let it carry them a few hundred meters without giving it any throttle, shifted, and eased the clutch out again until it was fully engaged. Only when they were down the road a half kilometer away and approaching a slight uphill, did he give it some gas so it made an exhaust noise more than a slight putt-putt-putt. It seemed to handle just fine with Alice’s added weight, but adding more distance now, he was glad he had a good margin of gas to get back to Mast’s house.

* * *

April was having a kabob dinner the courier just delivered. It was quite good but she was not giving it the attention it deserved, looking at her plate just long enough to wrap a few more bites in pita bread, smear some garlic sauce on it, and go back to watching the big screen on the wall. Texas and North America were playing with each other. Both moved units around north and south of the thirty-third parallel but neither made any push across the border. It was much more interesting than football.

North America moved some new units up on each side of the Mississippi, but Texas just repositioned and divided some assets so they would be harder to hit. That made sense because Texas already had a numerical superiority before April took down the Greenville Bridge and reduced North America’s ability to maneuver.

Both nations made a few token passes along the border with aircraft and then seemed to settle down once they had the other side’s response time gauged. Chen reported neither side felt threatened enough to activate anti-air missile radar. April was fascinated but uncomfortable because she had upset the status quo. If they started fighting, even by mistake, she’d feel responsible. Applying pressure to get what she wanted indirectly wasn’t natural for her. She’d be much more comfortable directly attacking his jailers.

Chen appeared in the corner of her screen making a video call.

“Still obsessing about the border?” he asked her.

“Yeah, thank you for keeping the feed going for me. It’s fascinating,” April said.

“It’s all being recorded. They aren’t going to do anything, there,” Chen insisted. “No point in watching real-time if you have anything worthwhile to do.”

“You said there. Does that mean they’re going to do something somewhere else? Do you know anything? Do I have to pry it out of you bit by bit like I have to with Jon?”

“The Texans aren’t mobilizing anything I can see to bring forward in support of their present forces at the border,” Chen said. “They are moving a lot of light ground units around in Galveston and the Beaumont – Port Arthur area. They have sufficient ocean transport for them but I can’t imagine they will bring those up the Mississippi. They have bypassed New Orleans and the North Americans have been stripping everything of value to them out of the city without any opposition.

“They apparently are going to yield it without a fight, and there’s nothing there the Texans are willing to fight to take. Almost everything there is administrative and training facilities rather than combat units. Still, they haven’t moved in and established their own local control yet. They haven’t kept civilians from leaving either. A lot of people left in apparent panic headed for Florida and never got past Mobile, content to stop there when Texas didn’t advance beyond the Pearl River. They haven’t stopped vessels entering from the gulf and they’ve set up checkpoints on the land well back from the city.”

“Maybe they are getting ready to assert control over the city now?” April guessed.

“Maybe, but it doesn’t feel right to me. The population has been dropping for years. They never recovered from the last two hurricanes that hit the city and now with the people who left when the Texans were advancing, they have less than half the population of forty years ago. Mostly, it is those who didn’t have the means to go away or had no place actually better to go to. A lot of people would be just as happy to live under the Texans as North America. If you don’t have a government job what difference does it make? Texas has lower taxes and hasn’t been taking over private property where they moved in. It’s not like they are a foreign invader speaking a strange language.”

“I bet you have an opinion, but don’t want to tell me if you aren’t sure,” April said.

“I have several ideas. I think we’ll know soon because I suspect they are waiting for you to move. If you take out another bridge later today I think they will move then while the North Americans are distracted by that and uncertain. There really only two ways they can go,” Chen said, and pointed finger opposite each other across his chest.

“Oh, west to Mexico or further east to take more USNA territory.” April felt silly she had to be prompted to see that. They weren’t going to sail for Venezuela or Cuba with whom they got along just fine. “Which one are you betting on?”

“I’m thinking they will take Mobile. Mexico is more easily invaded by land for them. They’ve already holding territory they haven’t officially annexed there. Are you still going to drop another bridge for North America?” he asked.

“Yes, I’ll tell them that in about three hours,” April said. “I’m not going to keep repeating myself why either. They know what the deal is. I’ll just announce the target.”

“The new Dean Bridge?” Chen asked.

“Yes, we took out the center section over the channel in the war, so it was an easy rebuild for them. I’m going to do the same again. It doesn’t make any sense to mess with the approaches when this will make my point.”

“I won’t interrupt when you are busy,” Chen promised, “but expect me to tell you which way they move shortly thereafter.”

“I’ll reserve half my screen for you. Just leave this connection live. You can shift the satellite coverage north a bit and show me what’s going on early. Once I set everything up it doesn’t take any time to actuate it. Open a window to talk to me any time,” April invited.

* * *

His so-called attorney, Brooks, appeared on Irwin’s screen right after lunch. It had only been two days, six meals since they spoke so what could he possibly have to say?

“What is your relationship with April Lewis?” Brooks demanded, without any greeting.

“I’m very careful what I say to the woman on those rare occasions when we speak directly,” Irwin said. “I’d much rather deal with her partner Jeff Singh. I can speak directly to Jeff and fancy I know what makes him tick a little. April, I’m not sure what motivates her at all. She has spies everywhere. Someone once related a joke to me about her that was making the rounds. That she made it her business to know how much change you had in your pocket when she met you. So a fellow decided to test it out. She informed him he had a solar and fifteen bits on him. He was delighted she was wrong. He had a solar and thirteen bits, and told her so. She said, ‘Check your left pocket too.’ That’s funny, but it damn near has the right of it.”

“No, I mean, is she an acquaintance, a friend, a business associate, or something more?” Brooks demanded.

“I’m sort of waiting to find out,” Irwin admitted. “Those two and Heather Anderson are tight.” He held up three fingers clutched together in an emphatic gesture. “I can’t imagine any of them taking a major action without the approval of the others. Whenever my bank deals with their bank I may talk to Jeff, but he always says ‘WE’ will do this or that. It makes you aware he actually thinks that way, it isn’t just lip service to their partnership.”

Brooks frowned. “Are they lovers then?”

“I don’t know,” Irwin said, looking at him funny. “Do you ask the directors of the Bank of America if they are sleeping with other directors before you will contract with them?”

“I might not ask, but if a person doesn’t display moral rectitude in their personal life it often carries over to their public dealings,” Brooks insisted.

“Well then, since North Americans can’t keep their word to us and honor their treaty, their private lives must be a cesspool of cheating and lying to match, by that standard.”

“Miss Lewis is waging war upon North America on your behalf. I’m trying to find out why,” Brooks explained. “What does she owe you?”

“If anything I owe her. They’ve always dealt generously and openly with The Private Bank. But you don’t last long on Home if you do business any other way. That said, I’m still not sure our business relationship is sufficient for them to owe me warring with anyone in support. I am heartened to hear that, because if I am regarded as a friend they will avenge me terribly should I come to harm. The sort of thing that will get a paragraph in the history books a century from now.”

Irwin looked at him with new suspicion. “But you aren’t asking as my attorney. You are asking for your masters. What has she done? I haven’t felt the ground shake so she must not be warring all that violently. The young woman is not noted for moderation.”

“She destroyed a vital, very expensive bridge and promises to continue. Indeed she said another will come down,” His eyes shifted to the corner of his screen, “in about a half-hour.

“Her partners must be influencing her,” Irwin decided. “This seems too subtle for April. I’d expect something more like wiping Vancouver off the map while Congress is in session.”

“There are millions of innocent people in the Vancouver area!” Brooks protested.

“As contrasted with what group that isn’t innocent?” Irwin asked. “Are you suggesting my arrest and perhaps other things are not the will of the people who voted this government into office? That might ding your social credit score to intimate. If it isn’t representative, well that’s theirs to correct, isn’t it? If they do approve, then they’ll just have to live with what their beloved leaders bring down on the nation.”

“Surely you aren’t that cold-blooded,” Brooks said. “If you’d record a message to her saying you don’t approve or want violence done in your name we’d transmit it. That would be a factor for the court to consider in offering leniency.”

“Once again it’s ‘we’. You aren’t working on my behalf. You’re just one of my captors. I’m actually pretty happy knowing somebody is working towards my release. Let me talk real-time to April and I’ll see what kind of a trade can be worked out before this gets out of control. She and her people are traders, business people at heart, but don’t expect to get anything from them for free. I expect you’ll be trying to force me to produce such a message now. But with veracity software as advanced and common as it is now even your own public will see it is nonsense unless you do a full-depth fake that fools no one who knows me.”

* * *

Chen left a message for April, with copies to Heather and Jeff. It wasn’t marked urgent so it was a couple of hours old and if either of them had read it they hadn’t been provoked to comment on it back to her.

“I’m not sure if it is of importance to you, but a news report in Austria just mentioned that Director Schober of the Martian Republic died. I know you three have had some dealings with him if that impacts anything,” Chen said with no further details.

“Heather has the most direct interest. I’ll post a continuing news search,” April replied, “however, if you get news from other sources about the cause of death and who will replace him send that along please.”

Chapter 10

When the Hringhorni came back to Central from a three system tour Heather invited the crew for coffee and snacks. She would read the report but she wanted to talk to them. The report was fine but she learned about other things than planets found, and resources identified from seeing their faces and how they interacted. Truth was, she just liked them and wanted to visit, even her brother.

“You’ve seen nothing else since 61 Virginis to suggest any of the star systems you’ve surveyed have been visited by aliens?” Heather asked.

“Not a trace. No radio or radar traces or visible marks on any planetary body. We would have reported that verbally before anything else, not buried it in our report,” Deloris said.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Heather said. “I’d like to have a sensor net keeping an eye on that system to see if the aliens return or even pass through on a regular basis. Jeff let the design and fabrication contracts for four modules. They will sit on the fringes of the system passively looking in for a drive signature. You can do a one day mission to place them in a couple of weeks.

“I’ve accepted an apprentice pilot from the Obarzanek family. She’s going to get her orbit to orbit and lander certifications. Her mother informs me she’s been reading the exam materials since she was eight, so one assumes the testing will be a formality. Then I’ve made a deal with Larkin to use her for his trade rather than only train with us. She will get to see dock work and sit the number two seat for awhile. She’s too young really to be sworn to me. In a couple of years, I’d consider that. I’ve spoken with April and Jeff and we agree there is no point in maintaining a façade of not having a star drive among our own. If the Earthies wish to keep blocking information about it on their public nets we won’t make a point of contradicting them, but it’s pointless pretending with traffic control and so many in Dave’s shop and various fabricators seeing our builds and flights. You are free to tell traffic control you are departing to uncontrolled extra-solar space, and freely discuss your missions with the new apprentice, Laja, when you meet her even if she isn’t promised to fly jump drive ships yet. It may be an incentive for her to see there really is a goal she can attain.”

The four all looked back and forth distressed. Nothing was said but Deloris spoke with obvious consent from the others.

“Are you planning on breaking us up? We’re very content with our crew and confident in each other in life-threatening environments. Not that I have anything against this young girl, but I’d want to know more about her before trusting her with my life.”

Alice gave a single slow nod that indicated she had reservations too.

“Having four crewmembers makes sense when we are going into the unknown. You have redundancy and more opinions and experience to tap but I can’t see it being a permanent standard for scout ships,” Heather said. “We’ll be sending missions back to do follow up studies where you’ll need experts riding the back seats. We’ll probably send the Chariot to do some landing on larger bodies where the Hringhormi couldn’t land. If anything looks really promising we’ll want to do that before we get around to building a big dedicated survey ship. When we know more, I’d expect us to do some exploration with two person crews. Maybe both the Hringhormi and Dionysus' Chariot on separate missions, or both to a particularly promising star system with a split crew. You four are our reserve of experience to mix or match with others we recruit to make up those crews. Laja is just the first of many others we’ll need. You don’t expect us to send them out on their own when we have experienced people to train them, do you?”

They all looked back and forth again, with various expressions of dismay but thoughtful expressions and acceptance too. Did they really read each other that well without a word?

“None of us were thinking that far ahead. We consider ourselves family now,” Deloris said, and hesitated, unsure how to explain.

“As I do, with April and Jeff, but we have all sorts of far flung projects and businesses that require us to go off and take care of them. Getting all three of us together and not tied up on the com or reading reports and proposals is a rare luxury now. I doubt your jobs will be as demanding for a long time to come. For that matter, if you want to eventually leave us and make a family business of it to work for yourselves as explorers, I think that is going to be a viable business model.”

“We’d have to own our own ship,” Barak said, like that was insurmountable.

“I don’t think you are visualizing how much a percent of an entire star system is going to be,” Heather said. “When you find some good mining sites or a planet with moderate surface conditions to allow walking around, even in a pressure suit, the money will be respectable. Even the French mills you dropped off in the outer system will be giving you a payday soon. That will be respectable too.”

“I should have negotiated that better,” Barak complained. “We’ll have to market our cut of it and I don’t know where to start with a lot of it.”

Heather was a little surprised at that. She hadn’t considered it. They didn’t even know yet what the soils of Ceres, Eris, Haumea, and Makemake would yield in time. Their initial expedition didn’t look that promising. To her and her partners, it would just be extra income, but for these four it was going to be their first substantial pay over the very minimal salary they were drawing. It wouldn’t do to treat her little brother and his family poorly.

“I hadn’t considered how much of a problem that might be for you,” Heather admitted. “I don’t want to treat you shabbily. I’m sure April and Jeff wouldn’t want that either. We can renegotiate or expand the details of our agreement to be fair to you.”

“You don’t have to give us more,” Deloris insisted. “Just handling some of it when you sell your own portion would be a big help. If we get a decent yield of gold or platinum metals that’s easy to market, but some of the other elements we won’t know who to sell them to.”

So it wasn’t a sudden thought, Heather realized, but a matter that had seen previous discussion among them.

“I’m sure Jeff can issue the precious metals as coinage,” Heather offered. “Some of the collections we are just going to stockpile as a strategic reserve. We can sell your shares at the same time as ours and some of the less valuable portions I can make you an offer to buy if you don’t want to just let them ride as an investment without claiming them.”

“That sounds much better,” Barak agreed. Alice and Kurt didn’t say anything. Neither was given to saying a lot and let the other two speak for them, but the concerned looks on their faces eased hearing their partners negotiate.

“If two of you at a time do these collection missions you can take Laja along for training,” Heather suggested. “That should be safe enough here in our home system. The other two can take some leave. You can even go to Home if you are sick of the Moon. It’s no break at all to come back to being assigned out to other work every day here.”

“That would be much appreciated,” Kurt said. They all looked relieved.

Heather suddenly realized they’d been pushing them harder than was reasonable. They weren’t that much younger than Heather and her partners, but there was a definite gap in not only age but attitude. They were after all employees, and that made a world of difference. Kurt looked so relieved it was almost comical. She’d have to explain that to April and Jeff.

* * *

The forest road around the backside of the ridge wasn’t much before The Day. Since then nobody had graded it or cleared it. There were several places it had wash-outs cut across it and two places the hillside came slumping down after a rain. A few wind-blown trees were across it too. The upside was that in this condition it appeared nobody lived along it now or used it regularly. There was little chance of someone trying to ambush them again.

They stopped by a stream that was barely a trickle this late in the season. Vic had to search along it to find a place pooled enough to fill their canteens. Alice would have stuck her face right in the water to drink if they hadn’t stopped her. Watching Vic put purification tablets in the canteens and shake them vigorously she figured out the purpose.

“We didn’t have anything that fancy at the Olsen’s,” she said with a shrug. “Even at the house, they were too lazy to use extra wood to boil water. They’d argue whose turn it was and if nobody agreed they just drank the creek water.”

“Were they all as skinny as you though?” Eileen asked, thinking of worms and parasites.

“Pretty much. They weren’t very good gardeners and not much better hunters. The father used to be fat. You could tell because he had loose skin.” She pinched at the back of her arm with thumb and finger by way of illustration, which was funny. She couldn’t find enough fat to make her point. “They had more volunteer tomatoes grow by the garbage pile from table scraps than where they tried to raise them on purpose. They’d eat stuff like raccoon,” she made a face. “I’m not very fond of raccoon.”

Vic told her the water needed some time to work, and to be shaken again, but gave her some cornbread from Mr. O’Neil’s to eat, if she wasn’t too dry to chew it. He had to tell her to slow down and eat it slowly with little bites or she’d make herself sick. Eileen was embarrassed to see how hungry the girl was and that they’d waited so long to offer her anything. She marked it as something to remember that Alice might not feel free to tell them she needed something.

After all the rock slides and downed branches, their luck held until they were back on the highway almost to Mr. Mast’s house before the front tire went flat with a loud pop. Vic eased them to a stop and inspected it. The jagged cut extended from the center up the sidewall and was way more than could be patched.

“Have you ridden one of these before?” Vic asked Eileen.

“A smaller one,” she said. “I think what you’d call a minibike. But how does that help?”

“You’re so much lighter. If you can just idle it forward at a walk we’ll keep up and I think you can get it back to Mast’s place.”

“You can’t carry everything else,” Eileen objected.

“I can carry the heavy stuff and you can strap our clothing bags on the back,” Vic said.

“Hello? I’m not helpless you know,” Alice said. “I can carry something.”

Vic had his doubts but gave her Eileen’s clothes bag. It had a shoulder strap and Alice slung it with a determined look on her face.

Eileen would ride ahead until almost out of sight and stop to let them catch up. She tried to stay to the side where sand and dirt were drifting across the pavement. The plug fouled up from going so slow and they thought it wouldn’t start again once, but Vic revved it when it finally caught and cleaned it off. They were only about a mile short of Mast’s when the rim finally cut through the flat tire. To go on would risk ruining the wheel.

“Let’s move it off in the brush and hide it,” Vic said. “We’ll walk the rest of the way in and come back with that little hand wagon Mast uses. We can set the front wheel up in it and I can pull and you hold it upright by the handlebars and get it back.”

“If you tell me what the house looks like and describe Mr. Mast I can run ahead and bring him back,” Alice offered. “You can stay here and guard the bike.”

Vic considered it frowning.

“I’ve been riding,” Eileen pointed out. “I can run ahead with Alice so she isn’t unguarded and you can stay here and guard the bike, but off the road as you said. Around Mast’s place has to be pretty safe. I think word has got around by now not to mess with him.”

“OK,” Vic agreed, after he couldn’t think of any agreement against it that wasn’t insulting. “Give me a hand here and police the area so there’s no trail off the road. Look back when you get to the road and make sure you can’t see me. You are going to come to his neighbor’s house first, where that young fellow Ted lives. He never did tell me his family name, but Mast obviously trusts him. If it looks like people are at home stop there and ask if he’ll go with you to Mast’s to get the wagon and bring it back.”

Vic hunkered down with the bike on its side. Eileen and Alice made their way back zig-zag to the road being careful not to trample a path through the weeds. Eileen used a broken-off branch of a bush to sweep out their footprints. Once she was satisfied she couldn’t see Vic she didn’t call out to him. He’d been specific that she shouldn’t do that. She went off down the road and tossed the branch away further along where it wouldn’t be visible.

* * *

“Take a look at Disney News,” Chen told April. “They claim to be showing Irwin.”

“Let me look and keep your window open.” April requested. Chen nodded his OK.

It surprised April none of her search programs alerted her first. She told the house to bring up Disney news on the split-screen and nothing about Irwin showed on their home screen. She asked it to show space news and got nothing. She had it search for Irwin Hall by name and it brought up the financial news.

“Banking Fraudster Denounces Violence” was the banner. Chen saw April’s eyes narrow and she had to work her jaw to consciously not grind her teeth. There was video right away and her mouth fell back open in astonishment at the start image for the video.

“A suit and tie? No way. Who are they kidding? Why in the world would they display Irwin that way? And why is the story hidden back in the financial stories? Why didn’t you warn me it was a weird fake?” she asked Chen.

Chen shrugged. “It seemed like it would have taken longer to describe it than to just let you see for yourself. It’s all software generated of course. They didn’t even bother to do their best work. Honestly, my boy could do better. The suit and tie made me laugh out loud, but I thought about it. A lot of Earthies simply wouldn’t believe he was a businessman much less a banker if they showed him any other way. A few space nuts who view our public cameras would know it’s silly. But most people just believe whatever they are shown. In fact, displaying too much interest in us is considered antisocial and can go against your score.”

“Like all doctors have to be in a white lab coat and soldiers in camo?” April asked.

“Yes, it’s a formula,” Chen agreed. “A prison suit would devalue his message. The wall behind is too uniform and doesn’t match the lighting on his suit. Indeed, the lighting on his face and the suit are not a perfect match. To add insult to injury it’s not a very nice suit. You haven’t run the video, have you?”

“No, I don’t let crap like this auto-start. Besides, I expect to get upset all over again. Hang on, I’ll watch it,” April said.

They did have Irwin’s face down pat. They should, since they had hours and hours of video since he was arrested to work with. They even did little tricks like having him turn his head and rub over his ear to add realism.

“Since when do jail cells have upholstered armchairs?” April said. “He isn’t sitting like Irwin. The trouble is I know he looks fake, but I can’t actually remember the details of how he does sit. I just know it isn’t like this.”

“I got some video to compare of Irwin at Assemblies and some… private sources,” Chen said. “He never sits that ramrod straight and he never puts his arms out on the chair arms like that. Not even an elbow on the arm draped to the inside like the left arm is shown. His hands are always together in front of him like this,” Chen slouched a little and draped his arms in front holding his left wrist with his right hand.

“If he’s thinking hard about something and waiting for a chance to speak he interlaces his fingers,” Chen did so, and it just looked wrong because it wasn’t Chen. Or if he’s really wound up he’ll interlace his fingers and tap the ends of his thumbs together.”

“Yes!” April said, pointing. “You have that down perfectly. I swear you could do impersonations if you could do the voice right.”

“That, is just what you want to think,” Chen said, emphasizing the first word with a tiny pause, enunciating precisely, and tilting his head forward a tiny nod at the end like Irwin. “Of course you exaggerate everything a little to do an impersonation.”

“That’s scary,” April said. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“Spies have to be very observant,” Chen said. “If you are meeting someone at a park bench and they are sitting all wrong you just walk straight past and don’t even make eye contact. You want to be somebody else as you walk past too.”

“How can you be somebody else?” April demanded, fascinated.

“You walk a different pace, balanced differently, with the opposite dominate foot and moving your arms differently,” Chen said. “If you look sufficiently different people won’t even look at your face. When you look directly at another person’s face it’s a huge signal to them to look back at you. In North America, it is almost as rude as in England, and there it is a challenge to be examining your betters.”

“I need lessons on this, but let me listen to the audio,” April said.

Irwin’s avatar looked right in the camera with an earnest expression.

“I’m told some of my associates on Home have started a campaign to win my unconditional release. I do implore them not to use violence to try to force my release. First of all, I don’t think it will work. If anything, it is counter-productive and inflames public opinion against me. It reinforces an already low public image of Home and Spacers, in general, to see innocent people harmed. Also, it prejudices my case by implying that is the only way I can get a release instead of presenting a legal defense. I have legal counsel appointed to represent me and on their advice am going to make no further statements until this is resolved.”

“Those aren’t his natural word choices either,” April said, “and where do they get this crap about innocent people harmed?”

“They showed video supposedly taken by local affiliates of ambulances bringing casualties to area hospitals. The keyword they used was that you bombarded busy bridges.

April took a deep breath. “It wouldn’t do a thing to refute it point by point, would it?”

“It would never get shown,” Chen said, shaking his head. “Sad truth is they could let it be shown and it still wouldn’t make any difference. If you can’t make your point in fifteen or twenty seconds the majority of their audience won’t listen to the end. They just don’t have the attention span and the matter is too technical for them.”

“What would you do then?” April asked. “Just ignore it and press ahead?”

“That’s an option. After all, what do you care for what the mob thinks?” Chen asked. “Now, I come from a Chinese background, and they tend to take themselves very seriously. Most of you from a North American background see Chinese ideas about dignity and saving face as silly. But the USNA has become steadily more like the Chinese as they have shifted to being authoritarian. It is much worse to make fun of them than to simply oppose them. If you want to make any response at all, I’d do what the Greek or Italian opposition would do now. Nobody will risk breaking the law to download a prohibited but boringly monologue off foreign nets. However, if something is hilariously funny and nasty at the same time they’ll risk sharing it.”

“Tell me more,” April said, intrigued.

* * *

Vic stood slowly to be less eye-catching. He checked for Eileen returning and looked back down the road the way they’d gone and then the other way that they’d just come. He’d forced himself to wait for a full half-hour and not expose himself to discovery by standing too early. This was the second time he’d checked and the shadows were getting long. It wasn’t really twilight yet but the colors were getting muted looking deeper into the woods. He was getting nervous about night approaching. He was more concerned about Eileen out in the dusk than needing to sit where he was overnight. He should have mentioned that as a possibility before they left. It would have been no hardship to have them return in the morning if there was any delay.

When he finally saw Ted coming, he approved of his methods. Ted was on point with a pump shotgun held at ready. He had Eileen following along the edge of the road with her weapon slung in front. Alice was on the other edge of the road a little farther back pulling the wagon. Vic stayed standing, so they could see him, but checked the road the other way again to make sure they weren’t walking into anything.

Ted came out to him alone, leaving the girls on the road. He didn’t waste any breath on pleasantries or stupid questions. “Let’s each get one hand on the front wheel, and the other on the handlebars. We can pick it up and walk it out to the road backward,” he suggested.

Vic wasn’t sure if it would steer very straight that way, but decided to try it before arguing. As it turned out it was very much like dancing with a partner. Ted made little corrections by sidestepping and as long as he let him lead they didn’t stumble too badly. When they got to the road the wagon had a light load of soft dirt that Ted dumped by tilting the wagon. They lifted the naked front wheel onto the wagon.

“What was that for?” Vic asked.

“The empty steel bed will just rattle like a drum,” Ted said. “That makes it a lot quieter.”

Vic was impressed. Ted was young but far from an idiot.

Alice and Eileen both pulled on the wagon handle, and Ted and Vic both balanced the bike and pushed it forward with a hand on the handlebars and one on the gas tank. By the time they passed Ted’s house, there was a light visible inside but nobody came out or watched them pass. When they arrived at Mast’s he called out loudly, but Mast didn’t come out until they were behind the house almost to the shed door.

“Ah, you had a spot of bad luck,” was all he said, not visibly upset at all. Vic kept his mouth shut not sure he wanted to tell the story in front of Ted. Mast, however, invited them all in and gave them strong herbal tea of some sort and a squirrel stew that was welcome. “Have a bite,” Mast insisted when Vic started to talk. “It’ll be dead cold by the time you have it half told. Mast watched Alice shovel it down ravenously, not with any disapproval, but plain astonishment. He filled her bowl back up without her needing to ask so it was her turn to be surprised.

“I’m really sorry about the bike,” Vic said, when he finished his stew. He held his hand over his bowl when Mast pointed at it rather than interrupt him. “We’re going to have a satellite phone airdropped to us soon. That’s not something we want everybody to know,” he said, looking from Mast to Ted. He did it that way on purpose to not single Ted out. The young man gave him a nod that he could agree to that. “We can order other stuff within reason. The first time we do that I’ll get two tires for the bike and several tubes,” he promised.

“It’s going to be winter soon anyway,” Mast said. “I know some folks would ride it in the snow but it seems an unnecessary risk to me. I certainly would never ride anything with two wheels in snow. It’s not something I intend to use all the time anyway. I doubt we can get gasoline regularly. If you can arrange to get a tank full from O’Neil’s pilot friend that would be sufficient. Maybe drain it from his plane.”

“Yeah, it is noisy enough to attract unwanted attention,” Vic said. “We’d have been ambushed on the way back if not for Alice here,” and he told the whole story.

“Thank you,” Mast told Alice at the end, “not just for getting me my bike back but for my friends here. I owe you a favor when you need it.”

“You’re welcome,” Alice said, politely. “Thank you for the stew.”

“You haven’t lived here so you don’t know how things work yet,” Eileen told Alice. “Mr. Mast runs the Festivals, what you called the fair. That is what that big barn is for, not hay or anything. When he owes you a favor it’s nice because he has business with a lot of people.”

“Thank you,” Alice said again. “I understand. I figured out you are all rich.” She made an inclusive wave of her hand that was the house, the food, and everything that impressed her.

Vic was embarrassed, but Mast just grinned and didn’t deny it.

“Why don’t you take Alice and have a bath,” Mast told Eileen. “I’d like to talk to Vic about the Olsens and other political stuff. He can fill you in on it later.”

Eileen didn’t take offense. She figured out there were things he would worry Alice shouldn’t hear and she was being asked to keep her busy.

“Isn’t it kind of late to be going out for a bath?” Alice asked, worried.

“Honey, Mr. Mast has a tub in the other room,” Eileen explained. When Alice looked surprised, she added the kicker. “And hot water.”

“Oh… wow!” Alice said.

* * *

“Is it going to be ready?” April asked. “I’m not going to delay knocking the Memphis bridge down. If you fail to deliver once on a threat it emboldens the creeps. I’d rather wait to post it until tomorrow rather than post it too close to hitting the bridge.”

“I have every confidence in my guy,” Chen said. “I’m not going to interrupt him and pester him like I don’t trust him to deliver. It would be terribly counterproductive. You’re just nervous because you don’t know him. Relax, have some breakfast, and chill out.” That was as assertive as Chen had ever gotten with April. She took it pretty well.

“How are you going to release it?” she wondered, still fretting.

“You don’t call a news conference or send something like this to a network directly. It will get posted to a humor board in Europe, a political board in Australia, and to our own “What’s Happening” on Home. Then, a few very carefully chosen shills will ‘find’ it, and share it on other boards. If it doesn’t take hold like wildfire and go exponential from there we’ve misjudged badly and it simply will peter out. But I don’t think so,” Chen said.

“OK, I’m going to go out for breakfast, a big one, and eat it slowly,” April promised.

Chen just smiled and nodded.

* * *

“We have over fifty thousand hits on all three posts and who knows how many shares to other sites and private messages sent already. The click curve has gone vertical now. We’ve got a winner,” Chen declared ten minutes in. “The Italians just loved it.”

“Nice, I’m going to watch it again,” April said.

Irwin appeared in their video exactly like the official North American release showed him, except he had on a heavy neck collar attached to a waist chain and another long heavy chain hanging to ankle shackles. A separate long chain connected wrist to wrist. There were two black-clad figures standing behind him, pointing submachine guns at his head. He recited the same message exactly as before. When he naturally paused a little in his recital one of the figures nudged him with a muzzle.

At the end of the video take somebody off-camera called: “Cut!”

The black-clad figures lowered their guns and swept black balaclavas up and off of their faces revealing the President of the USNA and the Secretary of State.

The Secretary smiled and reached in his pocket. “Good boy!” he said, and tossed a treat.

Irwin stretched a little to catch it in his mouth and looked stupidly happy.

“It’s ridiculous,” April said, shaking her head.

“Good, that’s exactly what we were aiming for,” Chen assured her. “The thing is documentary length by news standards, but it made them look ridiculous, not us. If we claimed their video was fake that would be easy to ignore but we just demonstrated how easily it could be faked. That has much more power than the unsupported claim.”

“What?” Chen asked at the flash of consternation that showed on April’s face.

“It just occurred to me. Somebody down there will believe our fake video with the added chains and officials just like they did North America’s video.”

“Well sure. I could have put them in clown suits and somebody would believe it.”

* * *

Alice reluctantly got out of the tub when the water got cold enough. Eileen had already dried off and dressed. Following Mr. Mast’s suggestion, she tossed their clothing from the day in the tub and worked it with a plunger in the tepid water. It wasn’t as good as a boiling laundry kettle but neither was their clothing especially dirty this time.

Alice, having no other clothing, was given one of Vic’s t-shirts as a nightgown to wear until her things were dry in the morning. It came below her knees and past her elbows. Eileen hated to see her put back in the ragged stuff in the morning, but they had nothing else. The shoes, in particular, were so bad Eileen was afraid to wash them at all. They might just disintegrate into tape and pieces if she tried. It was going to be a long time until the spring festival and any chance to buy new – or used and new to her at least. That raised the question where Alice was going to go and if in the act of being saved from ambush they had acquired a ward they were now obligated to keep.

They added fuel to the small fire heating water for Vic’s bath and joined the men. If they weren’t done with their private discussion they didn’t object. Mr. Mast had a jug of moonshine altered with the addition of honey and a long seeping in crushed mint. It made a cordial that wasn’t half bad. Eileen was offered a small glass and Alice surprised them by asking to just taste it. They all looked at her expectantly after she sipped from Eileen’s.

“Tastes like medicine,” she decided after blinking furiously.

Eileen presented the problem of Alice’s clothing to the men.

“I’m sure you are aware I keep items in storage for people who don’t want to lug them home after the festivals,” Mast said. “I know at least two of them have girl’s clothing in their things, but I wasn’t given agency to make sales for them. If I let you take anything it puts you in an awkward position. When you see them at the festival you’ll have to pay whatever they demand after the fact. So it depends on how reasonable you trust them to be, and how far you want to obligate yourself.”

“As Alice observed, we’re not poor, by the way things are viewed now,” Vic said. “It’s late in the season and we can’t have her running around in rags with holes in them. I don’t know if she’ll want to leave us or stay with us and for how long, but we owe her our lives. I’ll get her some things and if the owners take advantage I’ll just smile and pay it. But we’ll make sure to do our business with them right out in public at the festival. If they get greedy word will get around.”

Mast nodded. “Then let’s go down to the barn tomorrow morning. It’s easier and safer to do it when it’s light and I can see you folks are tired from the day. Go get your bath and turn in before you fall on your face. We’ll refill the water tank and have breakfast in the morning, then we can go down to the barn and find Alice some things. Does that work for you?”

“That works just fine,” Vic said, nodding his thanks.

Chapter 11

The only thing April did differently in destroying the Memphis bridge was to request Chen cut her a segment of video to post online showing it happening. Not to show she really did it, but rather to show the bridge was empty and the approaches sealed off to refute any USNA claims that April conducted a massacre of civilian innocents after the fact. That video could have been faked as easily as the others, so it seemed sort of silly to bother, but some people still believed what they saw. April had no idea why. The advantage seemed to favor whoever posted their version first. Chen suggested she make this her last bridge.

“Why?” April asked. It surprised her. Chen wasn’t big on making such suggestions.

“Because if you drop another bridge the Feds will try to block your announcement to the locals and set you up to bombard a bridge with active traffic on it,” Chen replied. April was horrified, but didn’t dispute it or ask if that was speculation or hard intelligence.

April set the hour of the day the same each time she bombarded a bridge and made a formal announcement exactly an hour ahead each time. Chen called her twenty minutes early before the next anticipated warning.

“The Texans are moving,” he said, just a little excited. “We wondered if they would go east or west? Well, there are boats leaving port, but there are also aircraft in the air and more taking off. They are headed for Mobile and other points east. I suspect some will divert to New Orleans, ending their patience with that city. They are going to take another bite out of North America, and from what I can see from above there’s nothing they can do in time to stop them. I’m giving you a feed if you want to watch it.”

“I will, but I don’t see this as any reason to spare the Memphis Bridge,” April said.

“That’s not anything I was suggesting,” Chen assured her.

April made her expected warning and watched the rods take down the bridge. They didn’t waste any missiles trying to deflect the rods. Maybe they thought they had better save them for the Texans now. She watched the complex movements on half her screen with Chen in a tiny corner window, but he never had anything further to say about the bridge or the invasion, letting the video speak for itself.

It was much later in the evening before it was certain what the Texans intended. They repeated their strategy of dropping new border control posts on their intended new frontier. Each was fortified to face the North Americans and guarded to the rear too, in case any surrounded forces decided to try them from behind. With air superiority that seemed like a very bad idea to try and nobody was that foolish. Texas let anyone who wanted to leave pass the border with their goods and weapons. A surprising number stayed.

Texas now extended east to the Apalachicola River and took a chunk of the Florida panhandle to approximately the former northern boundary. April questioned the wisdom of taking such a narrow extension that might be cut off again, but Chen explained the geographic features that made it work, in conjunction with their ability to resupply and support from the Gulf of Mexico.

Whether the Texans intended to stop at the Apalachicola River, or not, the North Americans dropped the Trammel Bridge across it themselves before the Texans got too close. That was to protect Tallahassee. April wondered if they’d try to blame it on her, but it apparently didn’t fit the narrative since it didn’t help the Texans. Somebody in the North American administration finally woke up to the fact they could accuse her of colluding with the Texans dropping the other bridges. Truth was, she never even got a thank you.

* * *

Alice seemed to slow down a little for breakfast. Either she wasn’t as starved or she was starting to believe there would be another meal soon and she didn’t have to pack in every bite she could fit while she had the chance.

Neither did she object when the men refilled the bath tank and exempted her and Eileen from hauling water. The fact that Mast had a well instead of needing to hike to a stream was still surprising to her. The Olsens lugged water a couple of hundred meters from a stream.

They found clothing to fit her, none of which was new, but was a vast improvement from what she was wearing. Some of the clothing was clearly boy’s things but she didn’t object. In fact, she was rather passive about the whole thing. She didn’t reject a single choice that fit her. She did object to the idea of her old things going on the rag pile. Eileen guessed correctly that those were the only things she regarded as her own, and that she viewed her new clothing as belonging to Eileen and Vic.

Aware of that, Eileen asked her: “Honey, is there anything else you want? Speak up while you are here. We won’t have anything for you at home.”

Alice looked distressed. “I bet they are expensive, but if you can, get me another pair of shoes. I missed them more than anything when they wore out. What I actually want isn’t clothes. I want a .22. We had one my dad let me shoot, but of course, the Olsens took that like anything that was any good.

“That is really expensive,” Vic said, “and the ammunition is even more precious. Also, I’d have to teach you gun safety to my own satisfaction before I let you handle firearms. Even if your dad let you shoot it’s too important to me to trust he taught you up to my standards.”

“I can show you what dad taught me and I’m willing to work to earn it,” Alice said. “If living with the Olsens taught me anything it is that property isn’t allowed to own guns. Mr. Olsen kept the key to the gun closet around his neck on a chain and slept with it. It was obvious they worried about me getting in there more than running away.”

A significant look passed between Eileen and Vic, but they both left the story of Eileen leaving home to tell Alice another day.

Mast looked upset. “I said I owe you one. I have a little .22 in the safe back at the house. If Vic doesn’t object to your owning it I’ll give you that when we go back. What you have to do to satisfy him to keep it and use it at his house is between you two. Can you be satisfied on those conditions?”

Alice looked at Vic like she was sizing him up for the first time. “Yeah, that’s good.”

When they went back to the house Alice put on some of her new things. Mast came back downstairs with the littlest rifle Eileen had ever seen.

“This little rifle is called a Cricket. The metal is stainless so you don’t have to worry about it rusting, and the stock is plastic. Unless you bust it, that should last a long time too. It’s just a single shot but that’s safer for a less experienced shooter and will make you think and not waste ammo like a semi-auto might tempt you to do. You get fifty cartridges too,” Mast said, displaying a small box in his hand. “Deal?” he asked.

Alice looked at Vic and then Eileen to see if they would object. She still felt she had to ask conditions. “You’ll let me own this after you feel I’m safe to handle it? If I need to leave and live with somebody else I can take it with me?”

“Yes, it’s yours to keep as long as you don’t act stupid with it. Even then, it’s yours if you leave. You don’t ever have to sneak to run away like with the Olsens. We don’t own you.”

Alice nodded, satisfied. She didn’t reach to take it until then, even though it was obvious she wanted to. “It’s more my size than my dad’s was. Thank you. I think that makes us even,” she told Mast.

“That’s good,” he said. “I hate carrying a debt on the books.” He looked at Vic. “We’ve used up a chunk of the morning. If you want to take Alice over behind the outbuilding and give her your safety lesson, you are welcome to stay another night and get an early start in the morning.”

“That seems like a good idea. Come on, Alice,” Vic said. They headed out the door.

It was quite a long time before they heard a pop of the little rifle discharging, longer yet before they heard three more. There was a final group of three and they returned both looking satisfied. By then Eileen and their host were making lunch.

* * *

“What do you suggest I do, if I don’t knock any more bridges down, Chen?” April asked.

Chen looked alarmed. “I’m not comfortable suggesting actions when I’m not sure of your intent,” Chen told her. “It’s too easy to slip into creating policy.”

“Yeah, I noticed that before. But you are willing to say why some targets might be a bad idea. Of course, if I don’t do something you can’t be blamed for what didn’t happen, but if I follow a suggestion it may be a disaster and I could blame you,” April theorized.

“That’s the essence of it,” Chen agreed, “but I’m not just evading responsibility. I think it falls well outside my duties to suggest broad actions. I’m more like a Captain serving you as a General. Now if you can explain what you want to accomplish I can help with how. I know you want Irwin back, but I suspect there are other things you would consider a plus in accomplishing that and other things outside acceptable boundaries. You’ve never made clear to me what those are and I’m no mind reader.”

“You may have a point there. I guess half a glass is better than nothing. Since all this is pretty much about them getting in a huff about us using gold for money, it occurred to me to plant a nice big penetrating warhead on Fort Knox. Since they have no use for that relic of obsolete monetary policy what could it hurt? To hear them that has no influence on the value of the dollar, so how could they complain?”

“Well, sarcasm aside,” Chen said, “they may object to your detonating warheads anywhere on their territory. Even in desolate wilderness. It’s a matter of sovereignty. But I wouldn’t hit Fort Knox because they might moan and complain, all the while smiling behind their hand because you did them a favor.”

“A favor?” April said. She barely managed to make it sound like a question.

“Nobody has said much about it in recent years. It kills your social score now to question anything. But back around the turn of the last century, people demanded a complete audit of all the gold at Fort Knox. They did have some official go unlock and look in one room, declared there was gold there, and that was the end of it. I do wonder if the people asking even realized how expensive an honest physical audit would be? The state of gold trading back then was secretive and there were questions about the quality of the reserves.

“Apparently a lot of it was coin melt from back in the 1930s confiscation. Gold was loaned and hypothecated even if it wasn’t physically removed. Some of the smaller countries had their national gold reserves seized for political reasons, and even supposed allies had a hard time extracting gold that was held for safekeeping from back in WWII,” Chen said.

“I’m not following what you are trying to tell me,” April admitted.

“There is a possibility there is no gold, or not what is supposed to be there. Even if it is all there, the records of loans and liens may be so messed up the ownership of any one particular bar may be unknowable. The people who managed all that are dead, and the present people even deny it has any monetary worth, which isn’t exactly comforting. If you destroy the facility you may relieve them of the need to ever make an accounting.”

“Oh well, scratch that idea,” April decided. “Since this is all based on financial complaints and banking law I would love to hurt them there directly, but I don’t know how without hurting innocent people and creating needless chaos.”

“Oh, that’s not so difficult,” Chen said looking surprised. “You can disrupt their communications and put the whole trading and banking systems in turmoil.”

“It must be obvious to you, but I have no idea how it works. Educate me,” April invited.

“There are two ways you could disrupt them. Almost all data traffic is carried by fiber between cities. There are only so many places it intersects and branches. Remember, in North America, almost all the decent land has been developed for years. If you put in new utilities you don’t just cut a trench across some farmers field. There are established easements and you have to buy the rights to use them. In the cities, the locals get to say who can put stuff on poles. The big trunks follow interstate highways, state routes, and in some cases old railroad right of ways.”

“Aren’t those all buried deep and armored against damage?” April asked.

“Not at all,” Chen assured her. “They are so susceptible the utilities in a lot of developed countries require you to have somebody come out and mark where their lines are before you start construction or dig. Some things like petroleum pipelines are permanently marked.”

“How can they mark them?” April asked, not picturing it at all.

“They go along and poke little colored flags in the ground to mark the route,” Chen said.

“That’s insane. Their critical infrastructure is all at risk. I mean, you can’t hide a bridge but if I owned fiber or cable I would want the route it followed to be secret,” April said.

“That’s pretty much impossible,” Chen said, shaking his head. “Some places the easement is only a few meters wide. You know where it is in a very narrow band. For that matter, when you took down those bridges you can be sure you severed some utilities. Since they follow roads, when they come to a bridge the lines and cables are carried across hung under the bridge. There are places where there is a little building beside the road where lines intersect. Otherwise, it would be hard for workers to get access to them. They’d have to dig.

“However, there are a few places you can target dedicated coms for the banks and markets that are critical. I imagine that would pressure them nicely without knocking out service to things you don’t want to like the power companies.”

“Why would they have separate communications?” April asked puzzled. “In fact, how could they, if it’s all bundled together in these easements?”

“The markets are automated to a large degree,” Chen said. “A microsecond can be the difference between your bid beating out a competitor or being the bag holder. They set up their own microwave and laser towers from the exchange to a company data processing site because commercial data services are too slow. It goes out over the air where there is no easement. It won’t take them all out of service but there’s a lot of overlap. The investment houses and stockbrokers are intertwined with the big banks and insurance companies. Nobody will know what to do. Take out their private data links and they will be in chaos. I bet they don’t even have a plan in place to switch back to the inferior public services if they go down.”

April looked thoughtful, then calculating and smiled. “If that happens all the little players who can’t afford their own private coms will jump in to take advantage.”

“Well yeah, I hadn’t thought of that,” Chen admitted. “A few of them will be very happy.”

“Now that you know my reasoning and goal, will you get me targeting data for those systems?” April asked.

“It will be my pleasure,” Chen said.

* * *

Mr. Mast was up early to make them a hot breakfast. They could smell it before going downstairs. Alice was off in her own room. That was another luxury that had amazed her.

“Did you establish how you are going to help Mast organize his political machine?” Eileen asked. “Does he have other recruits besides you?”

“Yes, but the main thing is he said we will all have a private meeting at the next festival. He is concerned with the Olsens. As long as they are there the road is dangerous for travelers. He was terribly upset they intended to keep Alice. I think that’s part of why he gifted her with such a valuable item. The next traveler they waylay may come to more immediate harm. He intends to form a posse and go remove them as a hazard.”

“Some of the sons may not like being bandits anymore than Alice relished being their property,” Eileen said.

“Yes, but none of them have shown it by running away like Alice, have they? For that matter one of them could have run away with Alice as a rescue,” Vic pointed out. “We don’t have the luxury of a juvenile court and social workers to see if any of them can be rehabilitated. I’m afraid they are of an age where they will have to be responsible for their behavior like adults, just like most kids are since The Day. Would you want to take one of them into our house to try to straighten him out?”

“Put that way, no. I’d be watching my back any time you weren’t in the room.”

Vic just nodded, and the subject was closed.

They resumed their previous formation of Vic in the lead and Eileen hanging back and sometimes taking the opposite shoulder. Alice was instructed to lag both of them and stay behind Vic most of the time. Her tiny rifle didn’t have hardware for a sling but Mr. Mast supplied a leather braid that was tied around the barrel forward of the handguard and at the narrow point behind the trigger guard on the stock.

Vic informed her she was trusted to carry it with a round chambered since the rifle had to be manually cocked before it could be fired. Alice slung it hanging in front over her right shoulder. That was similar to how Vic carried his own weapon except his was heavy enough to need a more complex harness. Alice’s Cricket hung with the barrel pointing down to the left from her hip and the butt riding below her armpit and almost centered on her chest. That worked for now because she was still flat-chested. In two or three years they’d need a different solution.

Eileen thought Alice looked three inches taller armed. She definitely carried herself differently. The rest and some decent food at Mast’s had to have helped too. Alice copied them and didn’t chatter on the road. Eileen suspected she was smart enough to realize it was a safety issue. When Eileen glanced back to check on her Alice was herself checking behind them. Apparently, that was of her own initiative. She hadn’t heard Vic tell her to do that.

It was a long hard hike and Alice was carrying her clothing in a shoulder bag and a water bottle. She never made a complaint or failed to keep up, not even to ask for a toilet stop, waiting until Eileen called for one and joining her in the brush.

When they arrived back home Alice jerked in shock when Tommy and Pearl were standing at the door waiting to greet them. Eileen was embarrassed when she realized they never got around to explaining they had house sitters. The poor girl must have thought they had squatters move in on them. The panicked look disappeared quickly when friendly greets were exchanged.

Pearl hugged Alice when introduced and Tommy offered a hand to shake. It wasn’t that much of a hesitation, but Eileen saw Alice freeze for an instant before reaching to shake. She hadn’t acted that way with Vic. Was it because Vic was older or did Tommy remind her of somebody who mistreated her at the Olsen’s? Eileen didn’t want to ask.

* * *

Irwin finished what he suspected was lunch. The lights never varied and he had no clock or calendar, but for some reason, the jail still followed a traditional sequence of meals, every third meal seemed to be something that most people would choose for breakfast. Lunch and supper were harder to tell apart, but lunch often seemed to be some sort of sandwich. Supper was more often a hot wet dish that needed a spork instead of fingers. If they wanted to keep him totally isolated and off-balance they were missing a detail there.

The screen activated with his supposed attorney again. Irwin hadn’t expected to see Frederick Brooks on the cell monitor again so soon. The boy looked distressed. Everything considered, Irwin couldn’t think of any reason the tool might look happy that would be of benefit to him. That would mean something was going against him.

“Mr. Hall, I had an odd experience just now. The judge who was assigned your case suddenly decided to take his retirement. Not that he didn’t have sufficient service to do so. It’s just customary to do so in a much more orderly fashion, giving some notice if it is isn’t a matter of suddenly declining health or family matters. I have no idea what got into him.”

“I suppose that means my trial date is put off for some time?” Irwin asked.

“Indeed, I have no idea today who will hear it much less when. I spoke to the prosecutor today and suggested your crime was not one of violence and we were failing to give you a speedy trial. I proposed setting a bond even if was a very high one. After all, you have had no way to communicate and are not responsible for what your friends do. Then there is the matter of your cooperation in your favor.”

Irwin just blinked a few times at that, cursing himself for even showing that much reaction. “How was that received?” Irwin asked carefully.

Brooks’ face went back to unhappy. He even allowed a little anger to creep in.

“He laughed when I mentioned your cooperation. That’s totally uncalled for. We’re both officers of the court and I have never disrespected him.”

“In what way did you suggest to him that I cooperated?” Irwin asked.

“Why, your video asking your friends to refrain from violence,” Brooks said.

“I’ve been in this cell without any other communication since I last spoke to you. I haven’t made a video or had any interaction with anyone. I take it then that somebody has acted on my behalf? I certainly haven’t had any news of it,” Irwin assured him.

“I watched it!” Brooks protested.

“I’m sure you did,” Irwin agreed.

Brooks looked alarmed that Irwin didn’t argue and reached out below his camera view to slap the connection closed. Irwin never got his question answered and had no opportunity to ask again. It was sort of sad. Brooks knew there were ads for various products featuring movie stars who had been dead for decades, but he couldn’t imagine the same tech being applied to propaganda. He wanted to believe so badly.

So, someone was acting to gain his release. Who was most likely? His man Dan might do that, but he couldn’t imagine him doing anything violent. He didn’t have the personality or the resources to offer violence. If the matter went to the Assembly it would be a matter of war not mere violence and Brooks spoke of his friends. He’d have never used that word to refer to the Assembly.

Irwin suspected Brooks would have told him plainly if matters had gone to the bad enough to have open war again. That pretty much left Jeff or April as his helpers. If one was involved the other would be supportive, but who was taking the lead? The more he thought about it the more he felt it had to be April. Jeff had such a bad reputation with the Earthies he’d been trying to keep a low profile. April, despite all the things she’d done, had a better press. Irwin had never thought about it before, but Jeff came across very badly in an interview. That, and the fact he hadn’t felt any artificial earthquakes, suggested April. Jeff was many things but not subtle.

* * *

Heather held her weekly court and disposed of a question about subleasing and occupancy by decree, refused to set rules for the division of property from an estate, and suggested to a young couple that if they were not mature enough to agree on terms of a marriage contract they were almost certainly not mature enough to marry, and could save themselves a great deal of drama and trouble by growing up a bit more before making such a commitment.

The last petitioner who she knew to be a local got all twitchy and worried looking as the cases were disposed of working down to him. He’d never been to her court and Heather’s blunt and brutal evaluations of the losers in each case must have frightened him. The fact he was there without a counterparty spoke against him too. Such cases were often an ambush of the other party or worse, a complaint against Heather or her agents themselves. He wisely got up and left with the young couple seeking somebody to play the adult over them.

That left one thin young man waiting who was not a local. Heather’s assistant Dakota has asked what the nature of his case would be and he’d replied it was a state matter and he would wait until he could speak directly to the Sovereign. Dakota was on high alert warning Heather she didn’t trust him. Heather doubted the man would patiently wait for all her cases to be disposed of before carrying out an assassination. Assassins were not generally so polite. Still, it was good knowing Dakota had her back and would keep an eye on him. The man had no visible weapon. Come right down to it he didn’t look all that happy to be here.

Once the others were out the door Heather invited the fellow forward to the carpet.

“How may I address you without giving offense?” he inquired.

“Heather will do nicely until we have some sort of relationship established. I don’t bother with titles much and Ms. Anderson doesn’t really say any more than Heather.”

“My name is Nathan DeWalt, and I am the number two authority in the Earthside recruitment and fundraising agency for the Martian Republic.”

“I’m surprised you don’t style your office as an embassy,” Heather said.

“We haven’t been able to negotiate that level of recognition,” DeWalt admitted.

“Why didn’t you simply call me on com?” Heather asked. “I’d have spoken to you or at least returned your call.”

“The nature of my message is sensitive and I have doubts about whether my offices, transport, or even my apartment are clean. I trust your facilities much more than my own.”

“Yeah we have roaming bots that are pretty good at finding any bugs, and we don’t trust anything open to an Earth data connection. Anything that touches Earth is through a cheap stand alone computer and air-gapped and isolated. Even things like news programs are sanitized real-time and rerendered in formats that can’t pass any executable file,” Heather said, “but all this effort misses an important point. I’m not giving any promises to hold what you tell me confidential. My partners and I don’t like your little republic. We regard it more as a misguided cult than a legitimate government. So, balance that you are telling it to a partner of convenience, not an ally, against the value of what you want to tell me.”

“Necessity is laid upon me from my superiors to transmit this,” DeWalt said. “May I ask why you have such an intense dislike of us? Perhaps I can present us in a better light.”

“I’m assuming you are on the inside to know the core reason for the Martian Republic declaring independence is that you are excavating and studying an alien starship?”

“Yes, but it makes me shudder to hear you say it out loud. Only two on Earth know it and we’ve never spoken of it aloud even out on the street or in a restaurant for fear there is a mic somewhere that will hit on the keywords,” DeWalt said.

“Well, my partner April had her grandfather accept a position with you folks before you broke away. When it became obvious he was too principled and independent to be manipulated they tried to kill him. They put something on the port seal of his room to make it blow out when it got cool at night to catch him in bed. Then they over torqued his suit bottle connections to suffocate him outside. Your leaders kill very easily and they are sneaky. We don’t like sneaky. We don’t like casual killing. We’re pretty sure you’d cheerfully kill us if it served your purposes. Besides which we think the whole premise about humanity going into a purple panic over aliens existing is a bunch of rot. You don’t see us running in circles screaming. I’m convinced your average working man will say, ‘Oh? That’s interesting. What’s for supper tonight?’ instead of panic.”

“And yet you’ve kept our secret even though you find it silly,” DeWalt said. It wasn’t quite a question but Heather decided to treat it as such.

“We’ve declared L1 a limit for armed ships,” Heather said. “If the Earthies know you have an alien ship we’d have to go to war with them to keep them from swarming past L1 in force to take your ship. They will all have fevered dreams of every sort of superior drive and death ray extracted from the wreck like a cheesy science fiction film. I can easily see them fighting amongst themselves over it and even one side destroying it if they can’t seize it.”

“And if we were removed as the de facto legitimate government of Mars your claim granted to the southern polar regions would have no basis,” DeWalt suggested.

“I can see how you’d think that, but if we really want it we could take it by force. Indeed if we had to fight the Earthies anyway we might as well. You noticed nobody is challenging our recent claims on the minor bodies. Now, you didn’t come here to debate our respective philosophies. You want something. Could you at least start working your way towards saying what you want?”

“The Mars colony was set up with the assumption the European Union would increase spending past the initial costs used to sell the program. The expectation was a second transfer vessel would be built. Perhaps even a larger one. I have read in certain non-public documents that they hoped to bring other Asian or African countries into the project.

“They even had support from billionaire tourists factored into the original plans. All that went out the window when the ship was discovered and secrecy became an overriding issue. We now find our infrastructure deteriorating with no plan to update or refurbish it. The next supply trip from the Sandman will take thirty people back to Earth. So will the one after presumably. It won’t be enough.”

“Well that shouldn’t be a problem for the bloodthirsty sons of bitches,” Heather sneered. “They can just march the surplus personnel out the airlock. With a little careful selection, they can start their own eugenics program. These tyrannical sorts always get around to that after consolidating power.”

DeWalt looked horrified, but much, much more. He looked guilty.

“Oh, shit,” Heather said. “Never joke about your worst case scenario.”

“That is why Director Schober is dead,” DeWalt said.

“Somebody didn’t have the stomach for a little indiscriminate killing?” Heather asked.

“I don’t know the details, but if Director Liggett didn’t do the deed himself he supported it. The plan was to remove as many as possible and leave a group abandoned at the primary site without environmental support or transport.”

“I suppose I have to give him some credit for being unwilling to jump from dealing death retail to dispensing it wholesale,” Heather said.

“It is by no means fixed yet,” DeWalt assured her. “Director Liggett still is not willing to release those who are aware of the scope of the project back to Earth.”

“If you think you are going to pull that ‘Oh, look see what you made me do.’ crap on me I have news for you,” Heather told him. “I’ve run up against that mindset dispensing justice like you just sat there and watched. One ended up exiled to Armstrong and the other attacked a man for sitting eating with his ex-girlfriend and got beaten to death with a cafeteria chair.

“I’d lead an expedition to clear your base corridor by corridor instead of just bombing it for the privilege of hanging Director Liggett if you try that line with me. You have to be one of the true believers we’d clear out, so consider that hanging will be a slow unpleasant prospect in Martian gravity.”

“It wouldn’t require much help on your part to avoid all that unpleasantness and any risk by supplying a few very basic pieces of machinery to us,” DeWalt proposed.

“I thought you needed another ship?” Heather said.

“That would be ideal, but if you provided a compact mobile water gathering machine and extra feedstock to make and repair them it would extend the time until we run up against the resource wall by several years. If you can supply feedstock for heavier repairs for steel and help remove our unwanted population the Sandman can’t remove fast enough we could buy ten years.”

“We have iron out the wazoo,” Heather said dismissively. “The other stuff we can get assuming we want to do this. What are you proposing to offer in exchange for those items? The other polar region?”

DeWalt actually gasped and had to recover before speaking. Heather was unmoved.

“I don’t think that occurred to my superiors. If you want me to take it to them as a counteroffer I will,” DeWalt promised. “I was not allowed to risk any of my one time pads by bringing them to the Moon so I’d have to return to Earth to communicate that. What they proposed is they have three small items not totally smashed from the alien ship. They appear to be discrete mechanisms, which is often not obvious, or easy to tell. Also, they are smaller and not difficult to transport like some of the objects in huge housings or systems made up of long runs of material all connected. We have nobody able to identify their purpose or even make a decent guess. We’d trade them to you for aid. It is a gamble for both of us. One could as easily be an alien sleep inducer that would never work for humans as it might be the key to synthesizing stable transuranic elements.”

“But you are betting being fairly small they aren’t critical functions of the ship you’d be giving away even if one of them might be worth a fortune to humans,” Heather said.

“Exactly, you made clear you know you are buying a few years of political stability also. We don’t want to deal with Earth any more than you do, and we, unfortunately, have far less ability to get along without them,” DeWalt said.

“This isn’t going to happen overnight,” Heather warned him. “But if my partners can’t talk me out of it I will put my design people to making your first proto water extractor. The other stuff is just buying it. I’ll need to have two ships available to pick up our fee because I don’t trust you at all. I’ll need a ship on overwatch to protect the lander.”

“I expect that will easily happen before the second Sandman trip from now,” he said.

“Easily. I suppose you realize that if we get some piece of junk we quickly realize is a super-duper sewage pump or a vegetable slicer from their galley, we won’t be amused?”

“I’d expect we were courting disaster to contemplate such a fraud,” DeWalt agreed.

“Then you can tell your masters they have a tentative agreement,” Heather said

DeWalt nodded and took a second to realize that was a dismissal.

Chapter 12

It was late enough Vic discouraged Pearl and Tommy from going home. Pearl could have made her house by dark but Tommy couldn’t. He’d have wanted to escort Pearl home safely anyway and then he’d be stuck there for the night. Vic thought they’d rather stay here than back under her dad’s thumb. Arnold was practical enough to allow them to stay together at Vic’s but still old fashioned enough to insist on some decorum under his own roof.

Vic was right. They readily agreed it was better to leave in the morning. Also, they hadn’t had any supper yet and would have had to hurry to leave on an empty stomach and impose on her family when they arrived. Fortunately, supper was a big pot of soup already made that would serve them all easily. That just meant that now there wasn’t going to be any leftovers for tomorrow. That would be Vic and Eileen’s problem.

Alice craned her neck looking out the kitchen windows and then stepped outside the back door looking around.

Eileen stuck her head out the door. “What do you need?”

“Where is the outhouse?” Alice demanded.

“There isn’t any. We have water piped in underground from a covered spring uphill. We have flush toilets and water at the sinks. Didn’t you see the faucets in the kitchen?”

“I didn’t see anybody use them,” Alice said, eyes big. “I just figured they were there from before the day and not connected to anything now.”

“No, but the hot water heater doesn’t work anymore. It ran off propane that is long gone. Vic keeps talking about making a wood-fired heater like Mast has but he’d need pipes and stuff that are hard to buy and hard to haul home from the festival. We heat a couple of buckets of water on the woodstove for now.”

“That still beats washing in the stream or just a hand wash from a pan,” Alice said. “You don’t get sick from the water?”

“No, whatever the source of the spring it seems clean enough. There is a concrete ring around it and a cap built over it. That’s all from long before The Day. We don’t have to boil the water,” Eileen said.

“At the Olsen’s everybody got the runs pretty often because they were too lazy to boil the water,” Alice said. “They’d do it for a while after somebody got sick and then slough off after a couple of weeks and argue whose turn it was to get wood or water. It was pretty disgusting.”

“That will kill somebody eventually,” Eileen warned.

“Not fast enough,” Alice said.

* * *

There were six microwave towers Chen supplied as first-round targets. Two outside Chicago, two in New Jersey, and two between Seattle and Vancouver.

“Should I hit these during the night when nobody would be working on them to minimize the possibility of casualties?” April asked.

“No, that’s exactly when they might be upgrading or servicing them. You want to take them down when the markets are open. Nobody will be messing with them when it might interrupt the service,” Chen assured her. “How are you going to announce it?”

“I’m not,” April told him. “This is a message aimed directly at the people at the helm of the financial markets. I don’t figure most of the public would understand their importance or care. I didn’t until you explained. That’s why I was interested in timing it right.”

“I think the timing will be very interesting,” Chen said, smiling. “In fact, if I may, I’d like to make some suggestions about how to trade their anticipated reactions.”

“Oh… why didn’t I think of that?” April said.

“Take them down an hour after the trading day starts. I expect it will take them twenty or thirty minutes to come to a decision to shut the markets down. There will be no real reason to do so until the people with those special links demand it. You will want to make your trades on foreign markets that won’t declare the trades void after the fact.”

“That’s easier anyway,” April said. “We haven’t been able to trade in North American markets for some time. Clearing the payments both ways has been too big a hassle once we were divested of dollars. The European exchanges are almost as bad. We have accounts in Australia and Japan that will do very nicely though.

“I have other things to do and have never been the world’s greatest trader even when things were much more stable and predictable. My brother Bob was always the sharper trader. He’d feed me hot tips. I’ll give Dan, Irwin’s man, a line of credit to trade for me and explain what is going to happen. He can ride along with his own trades if he wants. How long will it take them to get the towers erected and in service again?”

“In theory, you can put one up in three days if the base pad isn’t destroyed. I suspect the people who own them have enough influence to get portable units loaned from the military. If they can do that they may be back in service the next day. Do you intend to knock them right back down?” Chen asked.

“Not immediately,” April said. “Can you provide a target list of all the fiber and cable routes in and out of Vancouver? I’d rather do something differently tomorrow to keep them off balance and wondering what I’ll do next. I can put a few rods in the right of ways you were telling me about and they probably won’t even be defended if their computer doesn’t see them aimed at what they consider primary targets.”

“I’ll give you three points to cut each trunk,” Chen said. “There are only so many repair people and tools available to splice fiber. They will have to fly in extra techs from all over the country. If you are going to do that there are also still microwave links for phone and data traffic you need to destroy. The fiber will cut their bandwidth way down but the older stuff like obsolete phone company links will be just about impossible to repair.”

Chen stopped and scrunched his eyebrows together.

“What? You think of some reason it won’t work?” April worried.

“No. How accurate are your rods if they aren’t intercepted and knocked off course?”

“Not especially accurate. They use multiple GPS so they can locate themselves about like so,” April said, hold thumb and finger up a couple of centimeters apart. “The vanes that steer them, however, aren’t any good for precise maneuvering. They can weave back and forth a meter either way off the centerline as they drop,” she demonstrated with a weaving hand.

Chen looked amused. “They might be off-target a full meter?”

“Yeah, we never had any reason to make them any better,” April said. “It’s not like some of the Earthie systems that can steer a bomb right down a chimney. Why?”

“If you want to take any of those data centers out of service again you don’t have to knock down their antenna tower. Almost all of them have a humongous transformer sitting outside. They are big enough to be seen on commercial satellite images. Now, since there has been so much counter-terrorism effort put into their infrastructure a lot of them have a berm put around them or at least on the side towards their property line. That’s to keep some idiot from putting them out of service with an anti-material rifle. But they don’t stand a chance against one of your rods. For a bonus, you aren’t going to kill anybody hitting one like you would by putting a few rods through the roof and they will take much longer to repair.”

“They don’t have their own power?” April asked, dubious.

“Sure, a lot of them have back up generators. But guess where they are sited? Most of them are so big for a data center that they are on an outside concrete pad, right beside the utility feed from the transformer. On most of them, you will get a two-for-one rod hit.”

“Save that for round three or four,” April agreed. “Maybe they will be reasonable and we can avoid doing worse damage. It’s just amazing what a target-rich environment North America is.”

“They’ve had years to build it up and in things in like power distribution they almost never take things out of service, they just keep adding to it,” Chen said.

“It seems like a horrible mishmash of stuff just waiting to fail,” April said.

“That’s exactly what happened when you bombarded Vandenberg a couple of years ago,” Chen agreed. “But it doesn’t take hostile action when the systems are such an interconnected mess. All it takes is an earthquake or a forest fire.”

“OK, keep this target set in reserve for now, but keep in mind I don’t want to trigger another California size failure,” April said.

“We’ll try not to,” Chen agreed.

* * *

“Tommy isn’t part of Pearl’s family?” Alice asked after they were gone.

“No, he isn’t,” Eileen said surprised at the question. Vic looked startled and found a sudden need to put his jacket on and attend to some business in the barn. “I expect they’ll be married within the year. Her father approves of Tommy and you notice when we came back they seemed to be getting along just fine. If we’d come back to find Pearl back home then I’d have guessed they couldn’t get along and the whole idea of an engagement was dead.”

Alice looked to be eleven or twelve years old at the most. Eileen really didn’t want to have an intimate discussion with her. Her own mother had never had a frank honest discussion with her about her picking Vic to marry, just criticism. Eileen didn’t mind a rescue, but she wasn’t up for taking a motherly role at her age. She wasn’t sure when she’d feel qualified for that, if ever. Not to mention there were a lot of things about the Olsens she’d rather not hear and have the worst she could imagine confirmed or expanded.

“Did Pearl have to come here with Tommy?” Alice demanded with a frown.

“Not at all,” Eileen assured her. “She has been quite taken with him for some time now. Vic would have never let her be here too if she was sent with no choice. You haven’t met him but her dad, Arnold, is not the sort to force her to pick somebody she didn’t care for.” Eileen was a little hurt Alice would think Vic would allow that. Or that she would allow it for that matter. Was Alice always going to be suspicious others were like the Olsens?

“Vic and Arnold are both decent people and I’m pretty sure Mr. Mast is too.”

“OK, that’s all I wanted to know,” Alice said, apparently satisfied.

* * *

“It makes sense to me rather than precipitating a crisis,” Jeff said. “Not that I love the Martians, but letting them collapse could start an ugly war.”

“Whatever you want to do,” April said. “I’m kind of obsessed with Irwin right now. Do what makes sense to you and take them for everything you can get. Hopefully, I’ll be done with getting Irwin free and available to help by the time you actually need to do a swap.”

“Yes, this isn’t something I want to hand off to paid help to do,” Jeff said.

“I agree. If for no other reason than we know how treacherous they are and won’t take any chances. Paid crew might think – ‘Oh I need to get this done.’ – and get suckered.”

“I’ll start the ball rolling on their machine then,” Heather said.

“I have a project for you,” Heather informed Mo the next day. “Hand whatever you need to off on somebody else, but the design work can’t be put off on Earth sources. We need a simple robust mobile platform to harvest moisture from Martian soils. What they have now is at least ten years out of date and we don’t want to research the details of how it works for security reasons. You need to design it from scratch.”

“How fast do you want this?” Mo asked.

“A few months to your final design, please. If you need samples of Martian soil or to take the machine there to test I can arrange that,” Heather said.

* * *

“You were right. They didn’t even attempt to intercept any of my rods,” April told Chen.

“No surprise. If they aren’t aimed at anything on their list of probable targets then it takes a human decision to intercept them. By the time that can be done, it’s too late. Of course, this may make them do a new analysis and expand their target list.”

“Is Dan working the market for you? Did he agree to do that?” Chen asked.

“He is. He decided it was too complicated to do individual equities so he is just buying index funds after they take a dump and some currency trading. He’ll sell them on recovery. You placed a few bets of your own didn’t you?” April asked.

“Just be sure to tell him before you target them again,” Chen advised, ignoring the personal question. “He might try to hold too long if they are still showing gains. Are you announcing the next round of targets?”

“I’m going to ask them nicely to release Irwin again, and just add that I will continue to damage them until they do so. Since none of the targets require evacuation why tell them?”

“That may put greater pressure on them,” Chen decided. “Every time you do this you ratchet up internal pressures and conflicts. Besides blaming you, each time they are going to blame their own people for failing to stop you. It doesn’t matter that it would be almost impossible to do so. Politicians blame everyone but themselves. I’m so glad I don’t work for them anymore.”

April took that for a kind endorsement.

* * *

Ted Scott wasn’t exactly a trader. His software did the trading faster than any human could possibly do. What he actually did was partly prediction and a bit more of influencing the markets. He could orchestrate a sequence of trades. As a bonus, he could do that from a pleasant little town in western Virginia, because the decision loop between him and the data center in New Jersey didn’t have to be as fast as the one from New Jersey to Manhattan. What he did wasn’t exactly insider trading, since he wasn’t on the inside. However, it worked pretty much the same. One could exert a tremendous amount of influence on what happened to any one company given the scale of assets his bank had at their disposal. He didn’t earn money making or breaking a firm. Certainly, nothing that would generate objections. He just reliably moved values up and down a small percentage, repeatedly

The computer could see what happened a millisecond ago but no AI developed yet was able to see what would happen five minutes in the future. Ted could statistically beat a random guess which made him a star of his department. He watched the ebb and flow and read the tempo and tenor of the news better than any expert program. He watched the news on three screens and the equities and commodities on four more. If you’d asked him how he could follow and integrate the shape of the charts and the mood of the market to decide if a slight upturn would grow or falter he couldn’t have explained it. The process didn’t operate on a fully conscious level. It was subjective and emotional.

The trend on a major oil company looked solid to him. He set up a straddle that would pay much better on the call side and then set a purchase of futures contracts to influence the stock within a few seconds. He programmed a separate delayed buy and sell on another exchange with the buy order to be withdrawn faster than his merely human reflexes could key in and enter. The supposedly unrelated commodity contract buy was by the Chicago office of the firm under a different trading name.

The chance of any regulator connecting them was infinitesimal. Even if they did, the fine would be smaller than what they made. If it all went right he’d make the company about fifty million before this trend line petered out in the next ten or twelve minutes. That would be a decent morning and take the pressure off him for the afternoon. There was a fair chance he’d just break even but very little possibility of a significant downside.

Ted looked at the sequence of trades. He had about a thirty-second window to decide but he felt certain and hit enter in less than two seconds. He leaned back in his chair which rippled under him to massage his thighs and keep him from getting blood clots from sitting too long. The trend lines continued as he expected and he smiled.

The computer entered his orders on the New York exchange. A scant millisecond later it would have killed one side of the trade after it had influenced the other computers that made the market, but before it could be executed. However, the base of the New Jersey microwave tower and the associated feeds vanished in a flash as a rod directed by April smashed it. Ted’s one screen went blank and he just had time for his nostrils to flare and start to suck in a deep horrified gasp when the commodities feed from Chicago went dead too.

It took seconds to determine his proprietary feed was down. The longer delay as he sat staring at his dead screens was because he had no idea what to do next. His trades were executed or not and he had no way to know how and in what order. That was past worrying about. If it was just the link from New Jersey to him it might not be so bad. If the fast link from New Jersey to New York when down then there was no telling how his trades ended. There could be a significant loss. Ted called the New Jersey data center and expected the video call to bring the head of IT up on his screen. Instead, it said: “This service is not currently available.”

The tower that held their link to the exchange also hosted a dish connecting them to commercial communications too. There was a fiber landline for voice-only telephones to a limited number of places like the front gate, and to things in the building like the copier and soda machine to report when they needed to be serviced. That was too slow and narrow a pipe for Ted and his peers to use even if it had been connected to them.

Ted pulled up the New Jersey facility number from his contacts and keyed it in his personal pad to call. When all the circuits were busy and it invited him to try later, that’s when he really started to worry. He checked the public news feeds thatwere on his phone and as he watched they started scrolling special news bulletins about an orbital strike and chaos in the financial markets. The index funds dove like a plane with its wings ripped off. His little trade macro was only going to be one of thousands of trades interrupted. That was bad for the firm, and for all the big firms who did high-speed trading, but good for him. His loss would be a drop in the bucket among all the others. He wouldn’t be singled out to blame for a loss. If it was bad enough, they might even cancel the trades that occurred in the minutes before a suspension. It never occurred to him he might not have a job tomorrow.

* * *

“The attack cost three hundred billion dollars in market cap yesterday,” the Commerce Secretary told President Wiley. “My people tell me it will be a week before they have temporary towers in place and three weeks before we can build replacements beside them. The only plus I can report is that a lot of the loss will be to the benefit of smaller North American firms. It will just be an internal shift in assets not a loss to foreigners. But the larger firms are critical to us politically. We have to do something about these spacers. The bridges were bad enough. They hurt business and allowed the Texans to take advantage, but this hits right at the people we depend on for support. What was Treasury thinking to grab this fellow? Did they clear it with you?”

“There was a long laundry list of agencies involved,” Wiley said. “In the time it took for the hyper to glide in the Secret Service, IRS, Customs, and a whole bunch of local law enforcement were all waiting to go aboard and arrest him. Nobody thought it constituted a diplomatic problem about which they should consult with State or higher. Let’s be honest. They had every firm legal basis to have done so. We could have quietly requested prosecutional discretion beforehand, but we never envisioned the circumstances arising that they would act before we knew what was happening. We can hardly just back down and hand him back now.”

“Then we need to attack them if this girl keeps attacking us,” The Secretary said. “We can’t just sit and take blow after blow. That looks as bad as handing him back.”

“The military assures me if we provoke the Home Assembly to declare war again they are going to, I quote, ‘Hand us our ass on a platter.’ We are on the wrong end of the gravity well and the Homies don’t have any Texans waiting for them to make a mistake. They have expanding resources and we have declining resources and allies that aren’t all that much less hostile than the Texans,” Wiley said. “I am told they have three main armed factions. Home governed by the Assembly, which has a militia of some capability. Almost every commercial vessel flagged to Home is armed and part of that militia. Then there is Central, which is sworn to Home as an ally and of almost unknown capabilities. Remember however that the Chinese nuked Central dead on. They ate that and are still there and the Chinese lost every ship in that action. What we are dealing with at the moment is actually a partnership, a business. There are three partners one of whom is the Moon Queen who already shrugged off being nuked. The spox for the business in this action is the same young lady who destroyed Vandenberg when they fired on her other partner. They have a business relationship with the banker. Perhaps more than a business relationship, given their response. I was warned that if Vandenberg was unable to defend itself no other location has any chance of doing so except maybe the Japanese. Since they don’t seem inclined to have an adversarial relationship with the spacers we’ll probably never know what they could do.”

“That they avoid confrontation tells you enough,” the head of Space Forces muttered. “Home took over the habitat and then took it beyond the Moon and they are fine with it.”

“So we just have to take it? That will be the political death of us if it goes on much longer,” the Secretary warned. “The Mexican states cut off from us are restive and may come to an accommodation with Texas if not petition to join them outright. They have zero interest in pressing them from the other side. The damned Quebecois are itching to cause trouble at our back and as long as the Texans have us tied up we can’t reestablish control over California and the Baja. We could secure New Mexico and Arizona if we weren’t tied down in the east. Frankly, neither of us cares about them a great deal right now, except as a barrier to Mexico.”

“I am not unaware of these things. The army pretty much agrees with your analysis. We do have to just ‘take it’ for a while. They are an irritant and an embarrassment, but given our population and size, we can ‘take it’ a great deal longer. I’m told the spooks are working on something they won’t read me in on for deniability, but it is one of those operations that depend on opportunity, and the right circumstances just haven’t presented themselves yet.”

“You have my support,” the Secretary assured him. “Others may not be so steadfast. Don’t let this drag on too long to test them. At least she hasn’t bombarded anything today. Maybe she is taking a day off.

“Your point is well taken,” Wiley agreed, “thank you.”

* * *

“Thank you, Chen, that was inspired,” April said.

“It created a bigger disturbance than I anticipated,” Chen admitted. “I didn’t think they would suspend trading. That amounts to admitting about a dozen firms are the market.”

“Do you think it was expensive enough to keep the pressure on them?” April asked.

“Yes, but more than that, it drove home the uncertainty of what you will do next. They had to have decided they could lose any number of bridges and deal with it. This struck right at the basic institutions that support their governance. There wasn’t that much actual loss in the values of equities, but the money flowed to all the wrong players yesterday. The damage was continued in foreign markets too. The biggest harm was self-inflicted when they decided to suspend trading for the rest of the day.

“They’ve done a marvelous job of reconnecting their data centers,” Chen said. “All but one were back up by noon today. They brought in rented cranes and lifted some antennas to replace the towers. That was brilliant. One put a drone up orbiting between Manhattan and a new ground station in Jersey. I’m surprised they could come up with cables and antennas overnight. I’m sure money was no object in getting back up. They have to be very aware you can hit the same spots to take their cranes out if you decide to. My instincts say that it would be better to move on to different targets to keep them off balance.”

“Oh, I totally agree. I need to come back to Home for just a couple of days. I’m keeping it quiet for the sake of security. I’m just telling a few close associates like you. I’m taking a private shuttle and using the industrial docks. I’ll think about it and make some notes. By the time I get back, I hope to have some ideas to run past you.”

“May I suggest you have Gunny meet you at the dock?” Chen worried. “You are making an awful lot of people unhappy with you, not just governments. Some of these businesses can be as dangerous to have as enemies as any government.” He wanted to ask what couldn’t be done by com, but it wasn’t his place.

“That’ll make him get up awfully early, but yeah, I’ll do that,” April promised.

“That makes me feel better,” Chen said. Nevertheless, when they ended the call Chen called Home Security to let Jon know April would be returning. He didn’t feel he had to ask permission to advise Jon. That was after all his job and April had made clear on a number of occasions that he was an ally. He had no specific reason to be worried. His job was intelligence and he might know of things going on in the station Jon didn’t but it never hurt to enlist help.

Right now, there were twenty-three foreigners on Home by the public entry logs. A few were medical tourists with appointments, several were business persons with long verifiable relationships with their companies and some had been to Home before. One, he was certain was an industrial spy from Korea. That was really none of his business since he wasn’t employed by either side. There were two Europeans of which he was not certain at all and two Texans. As far as he knew they were the first Texans to visit home since it separated from North America. Both claimed business interests and had looked at cubic to rent or buy. Given the change in governments, business records were not as extensive or as available in Texas as North America, so verifying that wasn’t easy. Given the fact that everything April was doing tended to help Texas, he couldn’t imagine them being a hazard to April. He was just very cautious and protective of April beyond what was required for business.

* * *

Eileen and Vic hadn’t planned on integrating a new member into their family. That Alice was polite and clean helped. She wasn’t quick to argue or demand attention. She was even fairly quick to volunteer when things needed to be done. If they had been looking to adopt she’d have been a wonderful choice. That just wasn’t their plan. Now that Eileen had the implant they were more like newlyweds going on their honeymoon than an older couple looking to adopt. They were however decent people who couldn’t rationalize away the debt of saving their lives.

Despite some loss of privacy from having Alice with them she hadn’t come beating on their door or intruded on their privacy in any way to require setting boundaries or laying down rules. The unexpected hitch came when the end of the week rolled around. The weather was warm enough for a couple of days that they could have dressed warm and got in a day of gold panning and using the rocker.

Vic had the neighbors well trained not to expect anyone at home if they went around seeking to visit after church on Sunday. Vic had established that well before they married. They all minded their own business and didn’t inquire where else a single man wanted to be on Sundays. If anyone came around after they were married expecting a change of custom they found the shutters closed and the door locked.

They could hardly leave Alice alone with no explanation where they were going. Not only would it be insulting and a huge display of distrust but there was no way they could load up all their equipment and leave without her seeing it.

Vic suggested it was late in the year and maybe they should just let it go until spring.

“Are you planning on sending her off to live with somebody else?” Eileen asked.

“No, but that at least puts it off until the next warm weather,” Vic said. “We should put out a drop target and make a windsock for Cal anyway. We can do that Sunday.” He thought about it a little and revealed something else. “When I was talking privately with Mr. Mast I asked him to arrange for us to buy some more staples before the snow sets in. I’m going to get some cornmeal and hopefully some other things if he can arrange it. I may have to hunt more too. I did that pretty much acknowledging she would be with us for at least the winter.”

“And if she’s still with us in the spring?” Eileen insisted.

“Then we’ll tell her, but we’ll know each other better and we’ll have had all winter to think about how to tell her and offer her shares, if she wants to work at it with us.”

“Oh, I hadn’t realized you might offer her that,” Eileen said.

“There’s an entire mountain out there with gold. We’d never find all of it if we worked at it our whole lives,” Vic said. “I don’t think she’s the sort to kill us in our sleep for our gold after she saved us, but after spending the winter snowed in together we’ll be even more certain of her character. For that matter, she’ll be a half year older in the spring and your judgment and ability advances really quickly at her age. There will be that much less of a chance she could reveal our mining by a childish slip of the tongue.”

“The only opportunity for that would be at the Spring Festival. We can be really careful to coach her and watch her closely,” Eileen decided.

“The Festival is early. We could wait to mine until after if we have any doubts,” Vic said.

“Agreed, I’ll stop worrying about it until then,” Eileen promised.

* * *

Old Man Larkin did April a favor and gave her a ride on a freight run from Central to Home. He waived any fee, amused she would offer, and pointed out she’d have to ride the right seat and be available to assist his pilot on-demand since he wasn’t about to mount a seat in the freight hold for her. He allowed that he should pay her as copilot if you wanted to talk about who owed who.

When the pilot asked clearance from Central Traffic Control he recited his license number and claimed command of the armed merchant Water Bearer. A copilot wasn’t mandatory on a freight flight but it was so customary, and the norm for Larkin’s Line, that his mentioning his command status made the controller ask: “Flying solo?”

Her pilot Arthur LaHalle looked stricken, unsure he should answer. He’d been told April was riding along as a security measure so he was reluctant to reveal her.

Rather than talk about it and create an obvious delay April just keyed her mic and responded. “April Lewis, Master. ID number 737-62-4002, assisting.”

“Well damn, Old Man Larkin must be paying pretty good,” the controller replied, amused. “You are cleared to lift per your filed flight profile for the next five minutes. Be careful out there.”

“Lifting on the next minute tick,” Arthur said, stabbing a button. “Now everybody knows you’re aboard,” Arthur pointed out once his mic was muted. “Traffic control is in the clear and public. That kind of negates the whole secrecy and security aspect of it.”

“Nah…” April disagreed. “First of all, I doubt anybody meaning to do me harm would think to monitor traffic control, expecting me to actively fly anything. Secondly, if they did intend to harm me we are already loaded and it’s too late to ship a bomb on the flight. I refuse to lie to traffic control and falsify a flight plan. That means somebody would have to intercept us to take advantage of the information. That would be pretty hard wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, having a high boost ship sitting waiting to pursue somebody is even less likely than listening to all the traffic coms,” Arthur admitted.

“Do you feel I’m painting a target on your back?” April asked.

“No, or I would have stood down the count and asked Larkin for hazard pay,” he said.

Not refuse to fly, April noted. It made her smile.

Chapter 13

“Hello, the house!” Was heard as clear as could be, even with the doors and windows all shut tight for the cooler weather.

Vic checked, standing well back from a window and then went out on the porch. There was a man on a fine-looking horse with a less impressive packhorse behind him led by two younger men without any mounts. They stood back some distance to be less threatening.

“Check for anybody behind the house and pull the kitchen shutters closed,” Eileen told Alice. She took Vic’s good rifle and watched over her until Alice was safely back inside and the door locked. Then, with no light behind her to silhouette her, Eileen took a stance well back from the front door Vic had left wide open to the cool day.

Vic took his time walking down to the rider. He only carried his pistol.

“Mr. Foy?” the rider asked, squinting although Vic was close now.

“Vic will do just fine.”

“I’m Dennis Locke and those are my boys with me. Mr. Mast suggested I come to arrange a trade with you. He indicated you’d trade for storable food and that he is holding salt and .22 cartridges for you. He said you might offer some other things you are holding yourself.”

“I have a bit of salvaged hardware from outbuildings, window glass, and canning jars. That’s all I have I consider trade goods. If there’s anything else we have around the house you might want, we’d consider how valuable it is to us,” Vic offered. “What are you selling?”

“I have a traditionally cured and smoked ham, two big coffee cans of lard, and two twenty kilo bags of dent corn. The bigger deal is that we raise pigs. If you can sell me enough salt you can get two hams reserved for you at the spring festival. We need to slaughter in the next month and we’re short of salt. We don’t have commercial curing salt so they won’t look as nicely pink like as folks expect, but they will keep and taste fine.”

“You didn’t get salt from the Tehama county people at the festival?” Vic wondered.

Locke grimaced. “We didn’t have stuff they wanted in trade, and running around near the end, trying to trade for stuff they did want, we only got five kilos from them. We got some rock salt promised from other people, but that will be a one-time thing.”

That was probably road salt, Vic figured. It amused him people couldn’t figure out how to purify it and crush it for table salt.

“If you have celery seed for planting, not for seasoning, we’ll buy that. Celery powder works near like pink salt for curing. We’re not experienced gardeners, and it’s hard raising it because most of it doesn’t go to seed the first year. It’s horrible to keep the bugs off of it too. We’re working on it, but it takes up a lot of our time and resources. Maybe in two years we’ll have enough because you can save the bottom and roots to grow it again from that instead of seed.”

Vic thought on it and Locke didn’t rush him, gripping his saddle horn and waiting for him patiently. He leaned forward and Vic noticed him squinting again.

“I believe we can help each other more than you anticipated,” Vic said. “I can offer you a hundred kilo of salt. Will that take care of you this year?”

“Yes, and some leftover towards next year.” Locke looked relieved.

“We can talk about help next year if you can’t get enough salt again. The trade I really want to arrange is for a year from now,” Vic said. “I’m pretty sure I can get either sodium nitrite or nitrate to mix your own curing salts for a year from now. That will carry you until you get the celery growing well enough. But I’m going to want four hams and some sides of bacon for arranging that to be brought in from Nevada. Do you have enough seed corn to double up on the corn to us for next fall too?”

“We have the seed and enough land, but the extra work to plant and tend it is going to be rough. Both of my sons’ wives are pregnant and I’m not sure how much they are going to be able to help for planting and weeding,” Locke said. “We have the celery to tend and the same gardening most folks are doing to eat. We could really use a greenhouse but that’s an impossible dream.”

“If I could send a young man to help with planting can you board him for a couple of weeks?” Vic asked.

“Yeah, if he isn’t too proud to sleep in the barn,” Locke said, and smiled.

“I’ll try to arrange it,” Vic promised. “Do you listen in on the radio net?”

Locke just gave a nod yes at Vic.

“If I can arrange it then I’ll have them tell in the end announcements that the farmer has his hayseed coming, or not. Does all that sound agreeable to you?”

“Maybe. How many sides of bacon were you expecting? They are easier to cure but folks find them easier to cook so they trade better than the hams.”

“At least two,” Vic said. “If you have a good year and can spare more or you get into sausage making or can spare more lard… You take care of me and I’ll take care of you. We both need to be flexible. That’s how I do business. I’m not the sort who imagines he’s a sharp trader if he sends people away feeling badly used.”

“Fair enough,” Locke agreed. “Write me a note to Mast to release the salt and we’ll put the stuff on your porch and be on our way.”

“Can you make it home before dark? You can sleepover in the barn if you’re not too proud,” Vic teased, repeating the man’s own comment.

“I thank you,” Locke said, “but your neighbor Arnold and I know each other from before The Day. We already stopped at his place on the way in long enough to arrange to stay there tonight. It’ll give us a chance to visit and catch up. I never expected you to take in three strange men you don’t know really well. The offer of the barn is appreciated though.”

“Did you see a young man, Tommy, at their place?” Vic asked.

“No, but we just stopped out front and I never got off my horse,” Locke explained.

“If he isn’t there when you go back tell Arnold I want to see him, would you?”

“Sure, is this Tommy a hired hand?” Locke wondered.

“I believe he is a possible son-in-law,” Vic said cautiously. “One more thing, if you don’t mind me prying a bit. I see you squinting at me hard. Are you having problems seeing?”

“I lost my glasses leaning over to clean his hooves and the stupid horse stepped on them. Busted both lenses so I couldn’t even try to jerry-rig a frame,” Locke said.

“If you have your prescription there is a pilot who brings stuff in from Nevada. He might be able to get you glasses next spring,” Vic suggested.

“We’ve got no way to pay for them,” Locke said with a dismissive wave. “We owed more on our credit cards than we had in the bank when the computers went down. I had about fifty bucks in cash and spent that with the few folks at the festival who would still take dollars. I’ll just be happy when we get phones and gas again if nobody comes looking for me claiming I owe them a pile of interest on unpaid debt.”

“I still have a live bank account in Nevada,” Vic revealed. “If you have a copy of your prescription we can have them made and flown in. I’ll trade for that service and goods just like anything else.”

“It would be nice to see past ten meters again without everything being a blur. I’ll check with my wife and see if she has my prescription in our papers.”

“Come up to the porch and unload,” Vic invited. “I’ll write you a release for Mr. Mast and a note to Arnold too.

“Much obliged,” Locke said, and tipped his hat. “I’ll tell my boys.” He wheeled his horse around and went back to them, letting Vic get ahead of him walking back to the house and tell his people what was going on.

* * *

Gunny met April at the north dock. Lurking behind him was Burt Caldwell, a recent addition to Jon’s crew. April’s network of informants already had him pegged as one of those quiet types who answered with one-word replies and occasionally just a grunt.

Burt had a Loonie armored garment over his arm and thrust it at her. She might have argued more with Gunny because he was her man, but Burt doing it said it was from Jon. Besides, they both had the same sort of jackets on and adjusted halfway to their knees like a tunic. At least they didn’t scold her for not being armored up already. There was no hiding what they were to anyone they passed in the corridor and neither was at all apologetic about it. Indeed Gunny had an over vest in addition to the regular armor. What did he expect anybody to be shooting that Loonie armor wouldn’t stop?

“It stops laser and maser,” Gunny said, seeing her eyes checking it out.

“You think someone from Home is gunning for me?” April asked.

“The Earthies are getting some much better energy weapons deployed,” he told her.

“You could have brought my old one,” April said.

“These are better and still fairly comfortable. I’ve been waiting for it for a couple of months. It’s a company owned item, so it’s just a loaner. I can order you one if you want,” Gunny offered. “It would probably only be a couple of weeks wait now and the new ones are going to have cape shoulders that protect the upper arm. The material is too stiff for full sleeves. But you move easily with it draped. I’ll upgrade to that soon.”

“Sure, go ahead and get me one,” April agreed. “Let’s go get some breakfast. It’s so early I assume you haven’t eaten?”

Gunny and Burt exchanged frowns.

“Why don’t you just go home and have a courier bring breakfast?” Burt suggested.

“I am not going to hide like some kind of fugitive,” April said. “I have several business meetings I’ll be attending and if I wanted to attend them on com I could have stayed on the Moon. Nobody should be expecting me to show up here anyway.”

“Jeff and you have both been ambushed in the cafeteria,” Gunny pointed out. “It’s one of the places you are known to show up from time to time.”

“Along with the dock area here, and the elevators. You might as well stake out my front door too. If anybody wants to find me they can. Of all the places I can get waylaid the cafeteria is the stupidest one to chose. There is always a mob of dangerous old men drinking coffee and gossiping. Remember what happened to the Chinese guy who was supposed to assassinate me?” April asked.

“You may have a point,” Gunny allowed.

“That was before my time. What happened to him?” Burt asked.

“He sat his food tray down and stood back to draw on her. He was barely able to clear leather before he got a lethal Air Taser blast in the head from your associate Margaret. One of the writers in that group she was talking about, threw a mug of hot coffee in his face and was closing to engage him. The cafeteria supervisor Ruby body-slammed him from behind and stabbed him through a kidney, putting the old Istanbul twist on it,” Gunny said, illustrating with a wrist wrenching motion. “I put three rounds in his chest but it’s kind of hard to say who killed him. That didn’t keep Ruby from kicking the stuffing out of him, even though he was dead before he hit the floor.”

Burt just blinked a few times, trying to picture that level of mayhem.

“We put him in a rescue ball and set it adrift outside the ISSII so they’d find him,” Gunny remembered. “We didn’t wipe the coffee off or pull the knife out.”

“Sending a message?” Burt asked.

“Yeah, for all the good it did,” Gunny said.

“It’s a wonder they haven’t banned me from the cafeteria,” April admitted.

The cafeteria was fairly busy. April wasn’t sure if her guards regarded that as good or bad. Gunny went through the line behind her and Burt sat and waited until they were seated to go get his own breakfast.

“Who is the dude with the magnificent mustache?” Burt asked Gunny when he returned to join them.

“I sent his picture to your boss, Jon. He gave a name that doesn’t ring any alarm bells when searched and he’s from Texas. I wonder how he came up because there aren’t any shuttles lifting directly from Texas. There’s supposed to be another Texan aboard too.”

“He looked at each of us in turn, harder than I like,” Burt said. “Then he’s never looked at us again.

“He’s wearing spex,” Gunny pointed out. “He could have recorded us and not need to look at us again.”

“The Texans should be happy with me,” April reminded them.

“If he’s a real Texan and not a North American agent,” Burt said.

“Jon can’t verify that?” April asked.

“No, he can’t get anything on him at all,” Gunny said, unhappy. “There are three North Americans in the cafeteria. I’m sending their face specs to your spex. One is a long term resident and two seem to have legitimate business here.”

“Well, I’m well into breakfast and they’ve all had plenty of opportunities to come shoot me dead,” April quipped. “I think we’re clear today.”

“Whatever. Not much opportunity with both of us watching,” Burt argued. “And Jon says stay with you until you go back to the Moon.”

“Fine,” April said, giving up. “Are you asking to come back to my place? Gunny lives with me you know.”

“Yeah, but he has to sleep too doesn’t he?” Burt asked.

April saw no point in arguing.

* * *

“I have no clue what to do with this,” Eileen said, examining the dried corn.

“It’s just field corn, dent corn they call it,” Vic assured her picking a kernel to show her. “See? It gets a little dent in the kernel when it dries out. We can grind it for cornmeal. I’m pretty sure there is a hand grinder among the things in the attic. I have slaked lime out in the barn. We can soak it in lime water and make masa for tortillas.”

“Fine, if you show me how,” Eileen agreed.

“I want to try to save a few pounds back to plant too,” Vic said. “It may be a different variety than the little bit we got in Nevada. A little genetic diversity is a good thing. It helps you breed a variety tailored to your microclimate over time.

“The potatoes we have are adapted that way. My dad bred them over the years to our land and weather. I didn’t keep a garden for some years, but they never all got harvested. There were loads of them gone wild in the field, especially along the edges, to start propagating them again.

“I started working the potato yield back up, like a lot of other things, the spring after The Day. I’d let it all go fallow when there was a grocery store convenient to visit.”

“Just because everything was so uncertain?” Eileen asked.

Not exactly,” Vic said, carefully. “I knew right then I wasn’t going to stay single. It made sense before The Day but not after. I was going to find somebody, I just didn’t know who yet. If you hadn’t come along I’d have made do, but as things worked ended up, I lucked out.”

“Nice try to sweet talk me. You might have ended up with that little cow who was chatting with me when we met.”Eileen teased him.

“I knew I wanted to marry,” Vic said. “I didn’t say I was desperate.”

* * *

“They don’t seem very upset at having those data centers cut off,” April said. Maybe I should have taken out the actual building with all the computers and data instead of just the communications center.”

“On the surface, you wouldn’t think so,” Chen allowed, “but you’d be amazed the number of public officials who suddenly had industry visitors, the huge volume of increased traffic and the physical movement of assets and people from their offices. You stirred up a hornet’s nest if you know where to watch. You can still hit the buildings if you want, and they know it. They are probably going to spend a fortune to build redundant dispersed facilities. Don’t forget what I said about taking out their transformers. Those would be much harder to replace than the comlinks.”

“So if I did bombard the data center they’ll have alternatives pretty soon?” April asked.

“Yes, but I’m pretty sure I can identify almost all of them,” Chen said, and smiled.

“I’m going to hold that in reserve and switch targets again,” April decided. “I’ve been looking at government targets. They have a huge data facility in Utah that feeds all their intelligence agencies, not just the NSA. This one I will destroy, not just their communications links. They spy on everybody, so they undoubtedly use it to spy on us as well. People hate being spied on so I’ll probably get some public approval on this one even if they don’t dare say so.”

“I know exactly which one you mean,” Chen said. “They called it the Bumblehive, but it’s expanded from the original. I seriously doubt they can have sufficient backup off-site so hit it hard in case they have deep storage bunkers built under it.”

“I don’t want to damage Salt Lake City. Once I have the surface facility gone I’ll hit it with ground penetrators. This one, they get no warning. I don’t want them to get a chance to whisk anything away and save it. The whole idea of the thing is evil to my thinking.”

“It’s a major asset, you can expect they will protect it vigorously,” Chen warned. “I’ll look to see what they have in place.”

“Protect it better than Vandenberg?” April asked.

“No, but you said you don’t want to damage Salt Lake City,” Chen reminded her.

“I’ll try to show a little finesse,” April promised.

* * *

The buzz of aircraft engines made Vic and Eileen look at each other. They jumped up and ran outside. Alice looked perplexed at their action but decided she better follow before they were out the door.

The large tarp blue they’d staked out on the lawn had the pink blanket Vic described to Cal as ugly weighed down in the middle with stones. Eileen agreed with him. It was a horrid Pepto-Bismol color. They had to shake a light snowfall off the blanket and sweep the tarp twice now. Despite two light dustings of snow melting off both of them were losing hope Cal would make a drop to them this year and they’d have to wait for spring.

Their improvised windsock was limp and you couldn’t feel any wind on your face so conditions were good. Cal made a full circle and swooped down low and slow, shoving a package out the door as he approached the house. It fluttered and trailed a small chute that didn’t open right away. He released it from somewhere between two hundred and three hundred meters. Neither of them could estimate it any closer.

It looked aimed well enough at first, but about halfway down when the small parachute opened it caught enough wind to carry it toward the house. It hit on the roof and slid down toward them. When it reached the porch roof the pitch changed and it didn’t finish sliding off. Cal circled once, climbing, saw they’d be able to retrieve it and flew off waggling his wings briefly.

“He’s probably having a good laugh about that,” Vic said.

“He would, wouldn’t he? And if you razzed him about it I bet he’d say he meant to do that,” Eileen said.

“I’ll go get a ladder,” Vic said.

“Just boost me up,” Alice said, linking her hands and lifting to show what she meant. She stepped in Vic’s hand and then off his shoulder and went over the edge easily. After she swung the package down by the parachute she backed off the roof, then hung by her hands until Vic reached up and got her by the hips.

“You going to open it up?” Alice asked, getting excited now.

“I’m going to hang the blanket to dry in the barn, wipe the tarp down to fold, and then after we get supper on the stove cooking we’ll open it up,” Vic promised.

“Old people can take the fun out of anything,” Alice said, and stomped her foot.

“Vic and Eileen looked at each other and laughed. That just irritated Alice worse.

* * *

“Hello, are you the April Lewis who is having a dispute with North America?”

The young woman on the screen was blond and fair-skinned. Relatively few Earthies bought Life Extension Therapy and of those few, almost none started it in their teens like Spacers. The young woman was probably about sixteen-years-old, just as she appeared. She seemed terribly serious for her age but not at all hostile. That alone was fascinating, because she was almost certainly an Earthie. The window behind her looked out on evergreen trees and she wore a button-up blouse. It all looked convincingly real, not like a fake set.

“Indeed, I am. I can’t remember the last time I got a call from Earth. Is that is a real window behind you and not a scenic monitor?”

There was nearly a three-second speed of light lag and then the girl’s face registered surprise. She looked over her shoulder at the window like it was suddenly a new thing to her.

“Yes, I live in Norway. I’m sorry, should have identified myself already. My mother would scold me for bad phone manners. I’m Anna Krøvel, but everybody with whom I am familiar drops the A and calls me Ann.”

“If English isn’t your first language you speak it very well, Ann.”

“Thank you. I should speak it fairly well. I’ve had three years of instruction in it. But I’m sure you can still detect that I have an accent,” Ann insisted.

“Everyone has a characteristic accent,” April insisted. “Even among native speakers, there are a variety of accents. Unless it interferes with accurate communication, the problems are from attempting to impose official forms or trying to identify certain accents with political factions or social classes.”

Ann considered that well past the lag.

“Like the French,” she said.

April laughed but shook her head in agreement. “I’m tempted to start telling stories on exactly that point, but I doubt that’s why you called. What is your intent?”

“I was given a class lesson to interview someone who has done something of sufficient importance to be mentioned by two or more for-profit news organizations,” Ann said.

“Why for profit?” April wondered.

“My professor felt the profit motive would act as a restraint from making wild claims that could result in expensive lawsuits. Other partisan sites and sites with a philosophical agenda tend to more extreme statements and can change their identity or deny being a publisher to avoid legal action easier,” Ann said.

“Interesting theory,” April said, tactfully. “So, you are a college student?”

“Not exactly, not yet. I attend a specialized private school doing classes in English past the first year and I’ll finish with a GCSE. But the program has expanded to allow advanced studies with foreign schools that offer internet classes.”

“I don’t believe I’ve met anyone from Norway,” April said. “Home was Japanese owned but by the North American subsidiary. Most of the people were from North America before we sought our independence. Both my parents were from North America. I’m not sure how much anybody in Norway cares about my problems with North America. I’m surprised you haven’t picked somebody closer to home with issues that would resonate with your peers.”

Ann managed to look a little embarrassed. “I did try to speak with several city and national politicians. It was impossible to get past their staff and nobody would promise to even forward the request. A couple suggested I send a letter.” It was obvious they might as well have asked her for a cuneiform tablet. “I picked you because I wasn’t getting anywhere and I decided to change what I was doing radically. I’ll be honest, I have your picture although I can see it’s dated. I did a lookup in the directory for Home. When you answered yourself, I was a little rattled. I was sort of prepared to be blown away again.”

“Ah, at last, you got an English idiom wrong. It’s blown off. Blown away implies violence,” April said, smiling.

“Oh my, thank you. As notorious as you are, don’t you get a lot of harassing calls from being listed in a public directory?”

April decided to ignore notorious. The girl might be right. “Right after we rebelled I had a lot of unwanted calls. I was dressing dramatically and the teens in North America started copying me. Of course, their parents and school officials thought it was the end of civil society. I mostly had calls from teen-aged boys who wanted to chat me up and maybe get a photo or just record the call to brag about to their friends. I did have to filter my calls. It almost drove me to go unlisted, but it tapered off. I was just a fad and they moved on to some other outrage. I wish some of the people with whom I am disputing would call me. We could resolve this if they agreed to release my friend. I’m prepared to be very stubborn about it and make their lives utterly miserable.”

“The reports in our news indicate people have died. That’s much more than creating difficulties for them. Do you dispute those stories?” Ann asked.

“Somebody probably has died. I gave notice before I destroyed each bridge. If some damn fool went out on it and stood there watching for my inbound rod to impact I don’t have a lot of sympathy for them. The same with the private, financial links, I knocked down towers with antennas on them. They were in use on fenced-in private property. The odds anyone would be working on them while they were active was very low. However, the next thing I am hitting I consider a valid military target, and I’m not giving any notice at all. I’ll keep escalating until they release Irwin Hall.”

Ann scrunched her features up in puzzlement. “What does being a military target have to do with it? Isn’t this a criminal matter?”

“No, it is not. Irwin simply had his normal money on him that we use every day. His hyper was diverted to Miami involuntarily. If that is a crime it’s because they framed it as mischief. They are in violation of their treaty with us which is a political and thus a military issue not criminal. In violation again, I might add. President Wiggen gave us an unconditional surrender after our war of rebellion, and we demanded free passage of North American territory and respect for our laws in doing so as one of our conditions. Surely that is not unknown in Norway?” April asked.

“But you are not Home,” Ann objected.

“Indeed, I am not. I have a very limited objective. All I want is my friend released. Now, if as you say they want to deal with Home, that will be a very different matter. For one thing, I doubt they will enjoy the result of if they make the Home Assembly convene and set matters right. At a guess, I would expect them to pursue an entirely different set of objectives, that is to force another unconditional surrender. Since our previous engagement didn’t impress them enough to make them keep their word I’d expect the Assembly to act much more harshly this time. I doubt releasing my friend would be a primary concern of theirs. He could easily be forgotten in a serious war. On the other hand, reinstituting the treaty is not an objective of mine. They have lied to me so many times their word no longer has any value to me.”

“You can’t just make war on a major country all on your own,” Ann objected.

“How small must a country be before that’s permissible?” April asked her.

Ann didn’t see the humor in that at all. She just stared open-mouthed.

“We have no constraint at all in declaring or engaging in war as individuals,” April assured her. “I am not a subject of Home. To think otherwise is arrogance that I’ll happily punish. Just a few years ago I very politely asked North America to stop shooting at my partner’s shuttle. The base commander at Vandenberg told traffic control to stop forwarding calls from any child with a pocket phone. I’ll send you the video of that if it would amuse you to see how I was treated.”

“You’re talking about the Home bombardment of California,” Ann said. She didn’t seem interested in acquiring the video.

“No, I bombarded their missile base,” April said. “The rest of the damage was from their negligence in failing to maintain and upgrade an antique infrastructure. I just gave it a bigger nudge than the usual earthquakes, storms, and wildfires they’ve managed to deal with over and over. It was inevitable something would eventually damage them enough to cause a cascading failure. It just happened to be me. Home as a nation didn’t have anything to do with it. I’m certain some of my fellow citizens didn’t approve at all.”

“It’s scary to see you excusing actions that harmed others,” Ann said. “I can’t imagine trying to justify it.”

“But it’s fine to harm Irwin? Because one person doesn’t count? Well, it is impossible to excuse if you believe the North American politicians,” April allowed. “I can’t blame you for that, they are expert propagandists and they control their media. You hear what they want you to hear and what I’m saying must seem shocking.

“Or perhaps you don’t understand because you have nobody in your life you’d try to save if it involved any personal risk. Entire nations are afraid to challenge the North American giant, much less individuals. Even with all their problems, they are dangerous to a little nation like Norway so I can understand your fear.

“I won’t engage in a lot of hand wringing and fake public sorrow at being forced to do anything. My friend Irwin is worth more to me than all of North America. That apparently is very hard to believe. I have to assume it isn’t the custom on Earth to support and protect one’s friends. The idiom is to throw them under the bus when the relationship becomes inconvenient. However, I’m working hard on making them believe I won’t abandon him.”

“What if no matter what you do Mr. Hall is never released?” Ann asked.

April showed teeth and it wasn’t a smile.

“The North Americans often put people in prison knowing they won’t survive. It’s a death penalty but they like to pretend it leaves their hands clean to use the institution as an unofficial executioner. If they do that, or if as has been known to happen, Irwin mysteriously finds the means to suicide in a maximum security jail I will seek retribution. I’m not sure how expensive it will be, but removing New York City from the map would be a start.”

Ann looked too scared and horrified to pursue that so she asked a different question.

“Do you care to announce what you will target next?” Ann asked, making no other reply.

“No, it could reduce its effectiveness. It will have to be a surprise this time. Is that sufficient interview for your assignment, dear?” April suspected Ann couldn’t force herself to be civil much longer. Better to end it before it got ugly.

“Yes, I thank you for your time,” Ann said, polite to a fault, voice still controlled. Her face told April that she sternly disapproved. April certainly didn’t expect any favorable slant in her report since she’d just accused her and her nation of cowardice.

“The best way you can thank me is to turn in a full transcript of our conversation and then make it public,” April said.

“I’ll see if that is permitted,” Ann hedged.

Don’t hold you breathe, April thought as she disconnected. Ann knew a lid would be put on the interview. Her hedging at the last showed that. Most people would be like Ann, but a few here and there would be drawn to April’s view. They could imagine being snatched and held prisoner themselves and would want to be rescued. That was far too dangerous to allow happening on any scale. Ann might very well get in trouble at school for revealing her interview even though it was obvious she didn’t personally support April’s view.

Chapter 14

Alice was visibly exasperated with Vic and Eileen for their casual attitude about opening their package. She’d have dropped everything and torn into it without delay. It really amused Eileen that Alice could think of her as old. Perhaps Vic a little less so, but in Alice’s mind the gap was just as wide to Eileen as Vic. Eileen was wise enough to recognize there was no point in trying to correct it. The viewpoint was too basic and Alice would self-correct when she found herself regarded as old by someone else.

Cal was a good packer. The package was waterproof even though that wasn’t necessary. There was a layer of crushable cardboard honeycomb on the bottom and layers of shock-absorbing foam holding accessories and on top, a brand new satellite phone.

There were receipts and an extra manual beyond the short version in the box. Cal’s note itself was brief. He invoiced them for making an extended flight beyond his last trip of the season to O’Neil’s. That would be one of their first payments with the phone. Since they had a solar charger for the phone he included a couple of LED flashlights and a hanging camp lantern he thought might be handy for them. He indicated they were his gift and didn’t include them on the invoice. He detailed his efforts to acquire bikes for them too.

“You can use one of these,” Vic told Alice, handing over one of the small flashlights. “I have one that will charge off this already. I just didn’t have any way to charge it.”

“Thank you,” Alice said, surprised she’d be trusted with such a treasure.

“This phone will reside on the table from now on,” Vic informed them. “After yourself, it is the most important thing to save if the house is ever on fire or we are attacked.” He looked at both of them until he got an acknowledging nod.

“Are you going to teach me how to use it?” Alice asked.

“Yes, although we have to learn how to use it ourselves first. If we’re unable to use it you may be a valuable backup,” Vic agreed. “You can read the manual and watch us make calls, but you aren’t to use it without either our permission or obvious necessity. Agreed?”

“Yeah, agreed,” Alice said. “I really lucked out.”

“How so?” Vic demanded.

“I fell in with rich people who turned out to be decent. What are the odds?” Alice asked.

“Mr. Mast and Mr. O’Neil are both rich by the new standards after The Day,” Eileen insisted. “I believe either one of them will treat you decently even if you aren’t with us. I don’t know where you got the idea that rich people are automatically bad, but I think you need to reconsider it.”

“Maybe you’re right. I think I got that from the Olsens,” Alice admitted. “They were always harping on who had stuff at the festivals and how they didn’t deserve it. My folks never talked like that.”

“The Olsens would have been better off to try to flag us down and talk business with us instead of rob us. They were short-sighted. They should have known we weren’t traveling on a motorbike without having connections and friends. It’s going to go badly for them for taking up banditry and slavery,” Vic said.

Eileen seemed more startled and upset at that than Alice.

“That’s one of the things Mr. Mast is going to organize over the winter,” Vic revealed.

“Good,” Alice said.

* * *

“At how low of an angle can your rods approach a target without burning their shields off?” Chen asked, illustrating his question with his hands.

“It isn’t the extra flight time through the atmosphere,” April said. “On a long shallow approach, they will have slowed down to where the shield isn’t being ablated much. In fact, even though they start dropping faster as they lose velocity they gain some accuracy compared to a steep approach because they slow down to the point they aren’t surrounded by a layer of ionized air. They can go to direct sensors instead of receiving laser commands on a receiver in a tail recess. But they also have less impact on the target, hitting slower.”

“How much less impact,” Chen insisted.

“Down from several hundred tons of TNT equivalent to just a couple ton. If it gets slow enough it won’t even vaporize the rod on impact and create a shock wave. It could eventually just be the mechanical impact that would punch a hole through something and the shrapnel from the rod and pieces of the target fragmenting.”

“So more like an airplane crashing into something than a bomb,” Chen extrapolated.

“Yeah,” April agreed, “but it would still punch right through a main battle tank and tear it to pieces. But there’d be no Earth-shattering >KaBoom< unless you get secondary explosions from the ammo. Why?”

“As far as I can see from satellite images, the facility doesn’t have its own ballistic defense,” Chen said. “I’m trying to figure out how to avoid damaging the city as you wish. There’s an anti-missile site where they extended the airport to the north on the west side of town and I suspect that’s the only protection. It would be good if we could avoid engaging them at all. Some rods will always go off target when they try to intercept them. They may never have seen this as a primary target for other nations to attack. When it is handling data on foreigners it’s often with the other country’s cooperation.”

“Why would another country cooperate with spying on their citizens?” April asked.

“If their law prohibits spying on their own people then they will spy on say, the British, and the British spy on the Americans, then they swap data. So technically, they got it from a foreign source which makes it legal.

“Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t say it makes sense or isn’t corrupt,” Chen said.

“I don’t know if they deserve to have me wipe this data if they don’t have the gumption to put a stop to it themselves,” April said.

“You could say that about so many things down there,” Chen pointed out. “Don’t look at it as a favor for the people. It really will be terribly disruptive and expensive to their entire security apparatus. I was going to suggest you bring some rods in very low to get under the Salt Lake ballistic defense. If you cut off their power and data lines, then physically cut the roads to prevent anything from being removed from the site, you can then defeat their missile defense at your leisure. They won’t have time to save anything before you break through their defenses.”

“Show me on a map,” April insisted.

After Chen identified everything April sat looking at the map for a long pause.

“Do you remember when Jeff bombarded that dam in China?” she asked Chen.

“Yes, it created a cascading failure down the entire river system. You should know that the Great Salt Lake is extremely shallow and doesn’t have any connections to exploit.”

“No, but he actually bombarded the lake behind the dam,” April said. “I’m looking at that map and wondering what it would do if I dropped a ten kiloton weapon on the far side of the lake and blew a great deal of that water into the air over the airport and defense systems?”

Chen looked surprised. “I suspect a huge rain cloud of saltwater and muck would do little for their radar coverage. You’d have a couple of minutes that they’d be blind. It might even create a surge and flood their missile sites. It’s pretty flat from the lake to the east. You can’t build anything close around much of the lake because it contracts and expands a great deal with the rains and seasons. If their computer sees your shot as a clean miss they probably won’t even waste a shot on it. I’d use a penetrator to get down in the lake bed and lift some of it. The distance and using a small weapon should prevent any undue damage in the city.”

“What do you consider undue?” April worried.

“At that range, I’d be surprised if it even breaks any windows,” Chen said.

“Sounds like a plan,” April agreed. “I’ll start setting it up.”

* * *

“Oh Dear God,” Anna’s professor said. “You can’t publish this. It has the potential to ruin your life, child. It would likely damage the school and might even bring harm down on your nation.” He pinched the bridge of his nose in honest distress.

“Why?” Anna demanded. “I thought it was clear from my questions I find her position extremist. Indeed, I think she could be deemed criminally insane under our laws.”

“It doesn’t matter what you think. People won’t even consider that. Just the fact you gave her a voice to express this will enrage people and they will forever link it in their minds to you. Have you learned nothing about how shallow most people are by your age? If you predict a storm some in the public will blame you for the winds, because the vast majority of the herd are magical thinkers, and they will feel you brought it on them by speaking of it.”

“Her com code is public,” Anna said. “I was simply amazed. Anybody could have called her and I think she would have talked to them. She already has a voice heard in the news reports. The people at odds with her haven’t bothered to call her.”

“Do you see?” her professor guided her gently. “They have nothing to say to her. She could have issued the same threats to them in the first place, but decided not to. In many people’s minds, you will be seen as the trigger that made her think of those threats since she never brought them up before. I implore you, find some other subject. I promise I will give you a wonderful assessment on any other paper. I wish to avert this being released if it is within my power to kill it.”

“I can sort of understand it at an intellectual level,” Anna said, “but I don’t feel it and you obviously have very strong feelings about it. I’ll respect your experience and guidance. What should I do with it if not publish it?”

“Give me a copy. I have friends in the diplomatic services who can forward it to the North Americans without fear. That’s their business to do, and they can offer it as a piece of intelligence without personal risk. You may resist the idea, but if it were me I would do a hard delete of the video. If you are connected to it after she performs her threat you will be blamed as much for failing to publish. It’s a no-win situation. Have you uploaded it to storage services?”

“Just to my backup files at school,” Anna said.

“Thank Goodness for that. I have influence with the proper authorities to make sure it is wiped on our own servers. It was ill-conceived, but brilliant, simply brilliant to think to call up such a prominent public figure directly,” he praised her.

“Thank you,” Anna said. At this point, the promise of a good grade was more important to her than the compliment he was dishing out.

* * *

“Read this list and tell me what I need to add,” Vic said. “I want to be sure I have everything before I call Cal. I don’t want to end the call and think of something else we need five minutes later.”

Eileen’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re going to buy a bicycle for Alice too?”

Vic shrugged. “I don’t see an end date to her being here. If we need to go somewhere on our bikes what is she going to do? I can’t ask her to run to keep pace. We might have Tommy and Pearl watch our place again but that is no guarantee we could leave her here with them. It’s not like it is a huge amount of money given we’re using very little of what we have in the account. I’ll also tell Cal to give it a lower priority after our own bikes. He’ll finish bringing them in as he is able once he starts flying again in the spring.”

“Then I need to tell Cal her inseam and height so he can talk to the dealer and buy something she can ride now but will be adjustable to accommodate her growth for a while. She already has disproportionally long legs and the rest of her will catch up pretty fast. I know them from measuring her for clothes. I’ll write it down for you.

“I’d also like you to buy some pool chlorine. Laundry bleach is too heavy to fly in and Cal might not want to carry it in his plane. I can make up bleach from the pool chemicals and it stores better anyway. We really need it to sanitize things.

“It may seem a luxury, but I’d like you to buy more menstrual pads. They’re light and I’m not ready to go back to using rags. We don’t really have an abundance of rags now, even with the bleach to sanitize them.”

“I thought with your implant that would taper off quickly,” Vic said.

“Not me silly, Alice. I should have realized it would happen. She was on a near starvation diet with the Olsens and that delayed it. It’s ironic that it worked for her protection that they starved her. You might have noticed she has been really packing it in. I’m worried that by spring festival we’ll be looking for bigger clothes.”

“Well, at least if that happens there is a market for the old stuff,” Vic said. “That will help balance it out.”

“I’ve been thinking about something else. You’ve dressed out deer before haven’t you?” Eileen asked.

“It’s been a few years but I did that with my grandfather years ago,” Vic said.

“Have you ever done a pig?” Eileen asked.

“No. we never kept swine and I’m not sure I’d care to start,” Vic said heading that off.

“I’m thinking you can keep some of those curing salts and maybe get a whole pig from Mr. Locke next fall. I’d be willing to try my hand at sausage making since we’d have the casings, and if you can get a deer there should be enough fat from the pig to use venison in the sausages too. What do you think?” Eileen asked.

“My mouth is watering already,” Vic admitted.

That evening they listened to the local radio net. It gave a very brief summary of the problems between North America and Texas, even less time on foreign news, and then spent more time with a weather forecast that was of more immediate interest and value to the people in their listening range.

“In local news, our broadcast is going to have a stronger signal due to help from a local radio Ham. Since the boost is technically illegal he has opted to remain anonymous, but it should make our signal useful out to about sixty or seventy kilometers depending on the terrain. We’d appreciate if you are on the fringes of our broadcast areas telling your neighbors to try listening for us. We’ll report if we get messages from new listeners.

“John Fellows wants to tell his in-laws and the rest of you that his wife Marlene is expecting for a spring arrival. Congratulations to the Fellows.

“The Locke family wishes to tell Vic Foy the numbers he wants are as follows:”

Vic scrambled to get the note pad off the counter.

The announcer read off right and left and didn’t explain they were a prescription for glasses, but most people would know that. He repeated them carefully so Vic hadn’t needed to scramble to get the pad. He still wrote them down for the second recitation just to compare and make sure he had them right.

“I’m glad I didn’t call our order in yet,” Vic said. “I’ll just have Cal bring them to O’Neil’s on his first flight in the spring. There’s no point in making Cal do a separate drop here.”

* * *

“I’m applying what you suggested about the rods to this warhead,” April said. “We just copied old reentry vehicle designs and never tested them at low angles, so there is a limit on how low I want to push it. It’s maneuverable, but if it gets too slow I won’t be able to trade speed for lift and it could fall short of the planned impact area.”

“What happens then? Would it just crash?” Chen asked.

“No, this sort of warhead has proprietary tech so it will detonate. There’s only one place to the west that could be damaged, a sort of resort town with casinos. It apparently isn’t doing so hot with the current economy. On satellite images, the parking lots look sadly empty. I’ll bring my warhead in from the northwest to avoid endangering it. Otherwise, it is all desert and salt flats out there,” April said, with a dismissive wave.

“Then how long from that detonation until you hit the data site?” Chen asked.

“I have rods and three penetrating warheads all stacked up with just enough delay to keep them off their radar until the first warhead blinds them. The first will be two minutes out, but the penetrators are so far behind I could abort dropping them from orbit if it doesn’t seem to be going well.”

“When does this happen? Chen wondered.

“In about forty minutes, which means it’s time for me to briefly tell the North Americans I’ll going to escalate. If they want me to hold off hitting them again they are going to have to surrender in a hurry. I can’t imagine they will do that but I have it all automated to abort from a single command.”

“I’ll have all my contacts primed to feed us any reaction,” Chen assured her.

* * *

“Mr. Hall?” A new fellow appeared on the screen. He was older than Irwin’s appointed attorney, but Irwin immediately had him pegged as another lawyer. He was dressed much too nicely to be a government functionary from any level that would deign to speak with him.

“Yes?” Irwin answered simply. He wasn’t willing to be formal or needy with his captors.

“Mr. Brooks has been removed as your court-appointed attorney. He was unable and unwilling to continue to represent you. My name is Dennis Howard. I’ve reviewed all the recordings of your conversations with Mr. Brooks.”

“Then you are aware I didn’t accept him as my attorney. You may assume I regard you the same. Just the fact that there are recordings shows how farcical this whole matter is.”

“I hear your objection, but the fact is I am charged with developing your defense if not directly representing you in court. I’ll be doing that even over your objections. You can not be allowed to waste the court’s time by refusing a defense and then claiming you had none. I have to ask, do you feel you are able to act on your own behalf? I could ask for an expert psych evaluation, but first I’d like to hear your assessment of your own state of mind for my own reasons.”

“You are concerned with being judged guilty of war crimes later,” Irwin said with conviction and no hint of a question in his voice.

“I consider being brought to such trial a very unlikely end to this matter,” Howard objected. That fell short of a denial.

“So do I,” Irwin agreed. “Home has no ability to occupy a nation so much bigger than us. That is the only circumstance in which you would ever stand before an international court. That was always the problem after we demanded and accepted your surrender. There is really no way to enforce our terms except to go to war again. Still, you may be accused both from Home and in the sight of other nations. It might even make visiting European nations risky if they issued indictments against you. Some of them would enjoy discomforting North America that way even though they otherwise tread carefully with the North American giant. The rest of the world probably thinks the whole thing is silly.”

“You don’t sound like someone unhinged from isolation,” Howard said cautiously.

“I’m sure your government has any number of pet psychologists willing to testify to my stability or insanity upon need. I remember reading that some experts regard isolation as a form of torture now. Let me assure you this incarceration has been an eye-opener for me, and of immense benefit. I’m not the delicate sort like many now who have to be constantly stimulated by externals lest they are left with their own uncomfortable thoughts. Rather, I am amazed by how much time I used to waste every day monitoring the news flow and silly mundane things. Very little of it was of personal benefit or even relevant. If I am not assassinated I will conduct my life very differently. I’ve started exercising again and I’ve explored the limits of my memory and found I could remember more of the books I have read and music heard than I expected. I’d take the time to add to those treasures.”

“Yes, well, the guards who monitor you reported you sing a great deal. That wasn’t actually taken as a positive sign by several experts of whom they inquired. I can’t imagine anyone would think to assassinate you.”

“Then you have little imagination. You and your government should be much more concerned with the mental state of my friends on Home than my mind. I’ve had occasion to wonder how stable Jeff Singh is myself, given some of his actions. He is definitely the sort of overly intelligent person who has issues with socialization. After considering some of the things Mr. Brooks said, I decided you are probably dealing with April Lewis. She is much more secretive than her partners and I have far fewer clues what her thoughts and limits are. Both have demonstrated a willingness to fight for each other and one assumes their Lunar partner, the Moon Queen as your press styles her. How I rank in their eyes and what they will do for me is a bit of a mystery to me too. Brooks intimated he’d seen a video purported to be made by me denouncing any violent support of my cause. So I assume April has taken some punitive actions. You aren’t a big enough fool to believe those fabricated videos, are you? The young fellow swallowed it hook line and sinker.”

“I saw the same release to which you would be referring,” Howard said, which was no reply at all. He did have the decency to look uncomfortable.

“Well if you are preparing a defense, they must at least have a judge who is going to hear my case,” Irwin deduced.

“Not exactly,” Howard hedged. “They are still having trouble finding someone who will sit for the case, and I’m more in a caretaker position collecting the evidence piling up and keeping it organized so when you do have new official counsel appointed I can assist him in discovery without any delay for him to become familiar with the case.”

“Then who do you work for?” Irwin asked, puzzled.

“I’m on detached duty from the Federal prosecutor’s office,” Howard revealed.

Irwin started laughing and proceeded to completely lose control, hooting, and snorting.

Howard just let him go, grim-faced, seeing it was pointless to try to interrupt his fit until he ran down on his own.

“Detached? That is priceless,” Irwin finally said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “You couldn’t make this stuff up. My defense is being assembled by the prosecution? What could possibly go wrong?”

* * *

Chen watched April’s announcement. There wasn’t much to be said. They got briefer each time. It was prerecorded and sent to a number of news agencies both in North America and abroad.

“You still hold Irwin Hall, North America. It’s going to hurt today. Do what’s right and release him before I start destroying things you can never replace. I’m prepared to leave you a third world nation if you defy me to the end,” April said. “This is not a negotiation, it’s an ultimatum.”

After some minutes and no reply, the machines followed their programming.

“That was the uncertain part,” April said, watching the flash disappear behind a cloud of muck and saltwater.

“You know, that isn’t going to kill anybody directly, but it is going to be a tremendous big mess to clean up after that gets through falling all over the city,” Chen said.

“Who was it, in ancient times, that would sow the fields with salt when they got through destroying a city?” April asked.

“The Romans,” Chen supplied. “They were never especially noted for benevolence to the conquered.” He didn’t note that she was doing things out of order salting first.

“Kind of like Jeff,” April decided. “If they ignore me maybe I’ll ask him to take over. He already has nightmares from Jiuquan, why should both of us have them?”

Chen couldn’t answer that. His own family had fled Beijing because it looked like his nation would defy Jeff until he bombarded the government out of existence. It had been a close thing. It was Jeff’s respect for the history and artifacts that stayed his hand.

“There you go,” April nodded at the screen. Scattered flashes marked the cratering of roads and power lines, the suspected routing of underground cables and the antenna yards connecting it to the outside world. The second wave disassembled five huge buildings down to ground level. There didn’t seem to be any protective fire from under the cloud of saltwater and lakebed covering the airport and ballistic site to the north. The last three weapons came in unopposed and burrowed deep under the complex. When they detonated it lifted the loose soil higher than the buildings had stood. When the jumble settled back it was impossible to tell where building or parking lot had been.

“And now I expect a lot of yelling and accusations,” April said.

“Yes, but who is yelling what will make a lot of difference,” Chen said. “I’ll have an analysis as soon as we have something definite.”

“The problem as I see it now, is that we have vastly different perspectives,” April said. “We remember the war and the treaty vividly having lived it. The Earthies who lived through it are all dead or retired. To the next generation, it is all dead history that doesn’t have any gut-level connection to them. Everybody always thinks they are the pinnacle of creation and grandpa and his generation were grunting savages. They really don’t see why they should be held to any agreement those fossils made.”

“They don’t feel it,” Chen agreed. “It’s only going to get worse as our generation counts diverge away from each other more and more.”

“I’ve got to get out and walk around. Don’t worry about reporting anything until tomorrow,” April said. “I’m going to go get some supper and not think about this.”

Chen nodded polite agreement, but didn’t really believe that was possible. He’d certainly had thoughts he’d wished to turn off many times in his life. So far, the talent had eluded him.

Chapter 15

“This is a disaster,” the Secretary of State said. Around the table, nobody on the Security Council or invited experts disagreed. “We’ve lost years of vital data and our best expertise for analyzing it. It makes us look powerless and encourages our enemies, not to mention the very real support her actions gave Texas to snatch more territory.”

“I know it’s hard, but be patient,” the head of Homeland Security, John Brandon, counseled them. “Sometimes a war is won with a single shot instead of armies and massive weapons.” He gave a nakedly contemptuous look to the military heads present.

“I can’t believe we couldn’t hurt them if we threw everything we have at them,” President Wiley said.

“You’re right, we can probably destroy both Central and then Home with enough nuclear warheads expended in a barrage. You might even get to enjoy the spectacle briefly, before it starts to rain ungodly large thermonuclear weapons,” the head of the Space Forces agreed. “If you want to see what happened to the Jiuquan and Vandenberg repeated on Vancouver, Toronto, New York, Mexico City, Chicago, Miami, Denver, Mobile, etcetera, etcetera, go right ahead.” It was his turn to look at the director of Homeland Security like he was a fool.

The Secretary of State looked at this exchange amazed. He knew Director Brandon was shown the diplomatic cable from Norway. Apparently, he was incapable of believing the young woman would follow through on that threat. He considered bringing it up, but there were ears in the room that shouldn’t hear it, and he suspected it would be for naught. He could just imagine Brandon saying in his flat Mid-western voice: “She wouldn’t dare!” Time to see to his own people’s safety and to the Devil with John Brandon.

“You’d never know it from public sources,” Brandon said with a smirk, “but Ms. Lewis has returned to Home and been seen in public recently. Why she left the relative security of the Moon is a mystery, but we will take advantage of that as soon as possible.”

“I’d be delighted,” the gentleman from Space agreed cheerfully, “but I seem to remember the last time one of your agency tried to arrest this young lady on our own territory, with an entire entourage of agents and security waiting on the roof, they all ended up suddenly dead. That was when she was younger, less experienced, and not as enhanced as she will be now.”

“I assure you, we won’t bother with the formality of an arrest this time,” Brandon said.

The head of Space Forces looked at the smug spook and decided there was no pointing out a successful assassination would still leave April’s partners of a mind to lash out. Possibly, on the full scale he’d warned about earlier. The man was incapable of thinking in terms of personal loyalties and honor. To his mind, it was just an impersonal chess game of geopolitical gambits. He had no idea what an individual driven by other thoughts and motives than his own might do. The best thing, he decided, was to hold back counsel that Brandon would only mock, and quietly move his own family far from any target area.

* * *

“Why don’t you go to the Fox and Hare?” Gunny suggested.

“You just like the security better at the club,” April accused. “I’m not really in a celebratory mood. I just bombed a bunch of spooks and snoops, and I suspect it won’t be enough to make them release Irwin anyway.”

“The special board said they would have stuffed peppers today,” Burt mentioned.

“OK, there will be a positive side to it,” Gunny allowed.

“The Fox and Hare is too rich for my blood anyway,” Burt revealed.

“April is an owner, so her table is never billed,” Gunny explained.

“And she still wants to go to the public cafeteria?” he couldn’t understand that.

“Would you really want to eat club food every day and never enjoy the simpler things? Wouldn’t you miss home cooking like your mother fed you?” April asked Burt.

“My mom was a busy attorney and dad was an accountant who traveled. If we didn’t want to wait to eat when one of them came in near bedtime, my brother and I popped frozen dinners in the microwave. It was better after we were both sixteen and had a late enough curfew to eat out. The cops didn’t hassle us as long as we took an auto-cab.”

“I guess I have an idealized image of normal family life,” April admitted.

“That’s the kind of stuff they showed on public TV programs,” Burt said. “Nobody we knew ever lived like that unless they were rich and kind of strange.”

“OK, we’ll go to the club tomorrow,” April promised. “You should have some extra perk for getting stuck babysitting me.”

“Not a problem,” Burt assured her. “It beats the heck out of running dock security on the south end, watching fat Earthies bounce off the bulkheads like drunk dirigibles.”

“Yeah, when I was a kid we used to beg to go watch,” April told him. “My mom always disapproved, and tried to make us feel guilty for making fun of people.”

“Let me scope it out,” Burt said, when they arrived at the cafeteria entry.

April glanced at Gunny and saw he looked pleased with Burt’s initiative, so she just nodded to him to proceed.

Rather than come back he contacted Gunny’s spex.

“He says come on. The mustache guy is there but nobody else they list as a foreigner,”

Burt was ahead getting his food already. April got the stuffed peppers too. When they sat, Burt positioned himself a couple of tables away, back to the wall like April and Gunny.

“You don’t care for stuffed peppers?” April asked Gunny.

“You have to look down too much to eat them,” he explained. “I can pick up a cheeseburger and find a French fry by feel, without losing awareness of the room.”

That seemed a little extreme to April, but how could she fault his diligence?

“Uh-huh,” Gunny said very softly. April just barely caught it. She hadn’t said anything so he must have gotten a call or text from Burt. When she turned her head to look at him Gunny didn’t meet her gaze, but even from the side, she could see his sheepish look at being caught out.

“Burt said the new guy at the counter is a North America, but a long term resident.”

“Not many places will hire them,” April noted. “What does he do?”

Gunny didn’t answer right away. He was probably asking for the question to be relayed.

“Jon says he appears to be filthy rich and just doesn’t want to live down there.”

“With the exchange rate what it is now?”April asked, skeptical.

“Maybe he gets paid in something decent, like Australian dollars,” Gunny guessed.

The object of their speculation took his tray to the furthest row of tables, facing them with his back to the coffee pots. That was a popular place for easy refills. The fellow with the mustache was almost between them. He was one of those people who ate off the tray instead of removing everything. He did the oddest thing. He got up with his tray and moved over two seats so he was exactly between the new fellow behind him and April.

“That was on purpose. He has cameras on the back of his spex,” April said. She’d used those to good advantage before herself, and immediately figured out how he knew what was happening behind him. But what was the point of it?

Gunny was immediately on alert over the weirdness and must have alerted Burt, because he looked up. All of them had stopped eating trying to figure out what was happening.

The new fellow leaned out looking past Mr. Mustache with a frown. He stood back up to move and so did the source of his irritation, turning to face him. The mustachioed fellow reached up and did something on his chest. Whatever it was, alarm flashed across the new man’s face and he did something foolish. He tried to draw on the man confronting him.

The mustached one was fast. So fast the fellow facing him couldn’t even clear leather before he jerked back with an uncontrolled spasm in response to an Air Taser jolt. The shooter hesitated a full second to see if the man might recover and try to get back up. He was so limp once down sprawled loosely on the floor it was obvious that wasn’t happening.

The fellow returned the black Taser to his holster before turning to look at them. He had a pleased with himself squinty smile. On his chest was a circular badge with a five pointed star cut-out in the middle.

Gunny was both impressed and cautious. The man was definitely gene modified and every bit as fast as him. He had no idea Texas allowed that now.

“You might want to question that man,” the Texas Ranger suggested. “I had firm intelligence that he was tasked with assassinating Miss Lewis.”

“From whom?” Gunny asked, still shaken and on high alert.

“The official name wouldn’t mean anything to you. They think it amusing to refer to themselves as ‘The Eyes of Texas’ unofficially,” he said.

“He’s alive to question?” That obviously surprised Gunny.

“Unless he had some medical problem he should be. My Taser was set on the high end of stun, but it wasn’t set into the lethal range. I thought he might still have some value to you for information. Just be careful. He may have some spectacular way to suicide. I’d suggest calling your medical people to sedate him. They should be willing to do that if you explain he could be a danger to himself.”

“This is going to complicate things,” April complained. “I know Texas took advantage of the things I did to North America, but I never wanted my actions to be seen as directly working for them.”

The Ranger looked a little irritated. “You’re welcome,” he said sarcastically.

“Oh crap, I’m sorry,” April said. “That must seem so ungrateful.”

“Apology accepted. There is no need to credit my nation or force. Your men might have stopped him, but likely more permanently. We inherited a great deal of information from the agency offices in areas we annexed, and from people who defected to our side. That’s how we knew they might move against you. On the whole, we decided you are a beneficial factor worth safeguarding,” he said, and smiled with more feeling.

“Thank you again. Is there anything we can do for you?” April asked.

“No, my work here is done. I imagine I’ll be recalled.” He frowned and looked down at his tray. “My eggs are cold. I believe I’ll go get a fresh breakfast. I imagine you folks will be busy for a few hours. If you want to share what you suck out of this fellow, I’ll be around another day at least. There might be some useful things worth knowing.”

“Yes, don’t hurry away on the next shuttle. I’ll make sure nobody gives you any grief over this and one of my intelligence people, Chen, will share information with you. He is well worth knowing and maintaining as a contact,” she promised.

“That’s what keeps the whole mess from grinding to a halt,” he said, “networking.”

* * *

“What are you going to do next?” Chen asked. He was a little scared to ask. If the program was to be one of escalation then the last act would be hard to follow.

“I killed a couple of hundred spooks and data experts in Utah, so I can’t say I’m just destroying property anymore. They don’t seem to twitch at even multi-billion dollar infrastructure, so I guess the only thing left is to target responsible individuals if I don’t want to be a monster who bombards civilian targets. I doubt they will rebuild that data center any time soon,” April speculated.

“I don’t think they will rebuild it at all,” Chen said.

“I suppose the skills will be harder to replace than the hardware,” April said.

“Those were upper level people for sure, but look at the population of Earth. Consider even how many really good IT people they will have in North America, despite a declining population. They’ll recruit easily enough but anything they rebuild will be dispersed. Very few of the best and brightest are going to want to work in the sort of facility that has a history of being blasted from orbit.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about it from that side,” April admitted.

“Who do you consider responsible?” Chen asked.

“Well, the laundry list of all those agencies that were so hot to claim credit for arresting Irwin seems a good place to look for targets. Want to bet I can ID where the head guy for each letter agency works and lives and track the car that takes him to work?” April asked.

“Probably,” Chen said. He was just as happy she didn’t ask him to do it.

* * *

“We’ve pretty well wrung dry the fellow the Ranger gifted us,” Chen informed April later.

“Already?” It was barely supper time. “I thought it would take a long time to soften him up and then proceed by increments to ask the same things over and over,” April said.

“That’s not how it works now,” Chen assured her. “We don’t even have to have him alert and responsive to read his brain. In fact, we can clear some lists with him better while he is sleeping. You read a list of three letter agencies to him while he’s in deep sleep and his primary association lights the right brain centers up like a light shining.”

“And then you make lists of the minor associations to build a pattern?” she asked.

“Of course, but we have names from public sources too. We can name who we know and then fish. There are only so many names, and lots of them can be had from other government databases, by running lists of property owners against travel times from their facilities, only looking at certain price ranges and security situations. You can work from both the high end of the organization they can’t hide, and the bottom end they didn’t think important to hide. If you really need a confirming link there are things like traffic cameras and license plate readers. They’d be horrified to see how their own tools can be used against them. Sometimes it is as telling if somebody isn’t in a database of driver’s licenses, insurance records or credit card lists as it would be finding them plainly listed.

“The brain responds much faster than a verbal interrogation where he has to vocalize the answer. You can learn as much in five minutes as an hour would yield if he were cooperating fully and answering everything. We have an organization chart of his agency that may only have ten percent of their people listed, but it has several unbroken lines of command clear across their ranks. I think even he’d be surprised how much he knew.”

“What is he then? CIA or military?” April guessed.

“CIA and something I never heard of, the TLA. I asked around and couldn’t find anyone who had a clue what they are. Except for Jan Hagan.”

“What did he say?”

“He choked on his coffee, went into a laughing fit, and waved me off because he couldn’t regain his composure. He disconnected without explaining but obviously, he knew of them. That’s sufficient to my purposes. I’m sure of our scan, however. He clearly identified it with the CIA in his scan, but it must be some kind of specialty group or deep black command.”

“What are you going to do with him?” April wondered. “I don’t suppose the Ranger wants to take him back?”

“The Ranger has zero interest in anything but the data we extracted. I rather thought you might offer to trade him for Irwin,” Chen suggested.

“Oh. Do you think they might go for that?” April asked.

“No, but it would make them look terrible to refuse,” Chen told her.

“Why even bother then? They already look terrible with no extra effort on our part.”

“They look terrible to you. This is a chance to make them stink to every soldier and agent who can picture himself captured and they can see they would be abandoned like trash even when a straight swap was offered.”

“I guess that’s another way to give them grief. As long as it doesn’t take over my life and become an ongoing thing,” April worried.

“They will be working hard to bury the story even faster than you want it to disappear.”

“OK, if you think it is worth pursuing,” April agreed. “Let’s post his pix and biometric data and all the professional associations you are certain about and offer a straight-up trade, no bickering, no other side deals, or payments.”

“That’s not how these things are usually done. You make a quiet offer on back channels and do the actual trade in a public but uncrowded venue. Word it was rejected still gets around to insiders who matter,” Chen said.

“Bah. If you want to embarrass them don’t do it by half measures. Post it as a news release. Get video of the Texas Ranger taking him down and include that.”

“I’m pretty sure he didn’t want credit,” Chen reminded her.

“Well, start the segment when his back is turned, and cut it off as soon as he holsters his Taser and starts to turn back to us,” Stop before you can see too much of his face. Even if you drop the top of the frame to hide his face, be careful not to show his badge,” April said.

“That would work. You do know they will go absolutely ape?” Chen warned.

“Good. I sure can’t get a rise out of them any other way.”

* * *

“Talk about a target-rich environment,” April said. “Almost all the Federal agencies that jumped on the bandwagon to arrest Irwin are housed together in one building in Miami.”

“Are you going to take down the whole building?” Chen worried.

“No, tempting as it is it’s too big to be personally horrifying,” April said. “I want to take one connected official at a time down and make the rest of them sweat. Unless they are incredibly stupid they will see I’m going down the list of the arresting agencies and they will wonder in what order the list is written and if they are next. The Secret Service acted for the Treasury, and I like the financial connection again. They probably think I’d go directly for the Secretary of the Treasury. Going for their goons first will throw them off. I have the head of their office in Miami identified and his house. I’m betting he’s too important to drive himself or trust an automatic car. I expect to see an official limo pick him up in the morning. The next day he’ll be targeted.”

“You realize they will scatter like roaches and be harder to find and target the next day?” Chen asked.

“Sure, but that makes it even more terrifying if I can find one after they try to hide. If I can’t find one from the Miami FBI office, there are other FBI offices and even his boss in Vancouver. I’m not that picky, it’s all the same infestation.”

That made Chen unhappy he’d made the vermin reference.

“So you are going to give them a day off without being hit while you prepare a video about the assassination attempt?” Chen asked.

“Good point. They may think I am getting soft,” April said nodding. “Give me those right of way easements for Vancouver. I’ll cut a bunch of those and give them an hour notice I am cratering their civilian airport with some rods,” April decided.

“They’ll have those filled and covered in hours,” Chen said.

“You still don’t understand how much North Americans are slaves to rules and regulations,” April said. “If it was a military runway yeah, they’d fill it and throw a steel mat over it. A civilian runway has Federal regulations about how it is built or repaired step by step. How the base is prepared, the rebar quality and placement, the exact specs of the concrete and how test samples will be collected, even who is eligible to bid to do the repair and what they must be paid based on the prevailing local wage. They will have specific set-asides for minority contractors and compliance with local programs and environmental studies to be done. If they try to shortcut any of it there will be a dozen restraining orders sought and the unions will shut the project down even without the courts. They will just refuse to work on it.”

“That’s madness,” Chen said. “In China, they’d fix it or be dragged off and shot.”

“Uh-huh,” April agreed. “Can your video guy make the release? I know it isn’t as difficult as the fake but you can review and make sure we don’t compromise the Ranger.”

Chen was getting ready to beg off, but that persuaded him.

* * *

April sent video to the news agencies again, this time without a lunar background.

“Irwin Hall is still held prisoner. Very soon the runways at the Capitol Airport will be cratered. If you don’t want any planes hit I suggest you divert any incoming flights and keep the aircraft already there off them. However, the heads of the agencies holding him are invited to go stand mid-runway. I’ll also be severing some communications infrastructure. I’m really irritated with you North America. I’ll detail why, and how it changes our conflict in a video release tomorrow.”

* * *

George Hartman was driving home on manual. He lived that far out in the boonies from Vancouver that the control grid didn’t extend all the way to his place. It kept the rent below half his salary even if it did add an hour of driving time every day but only half of that was on manual. The car drove him nuts every day flashing a warning in the instrument cluster and vibrating not only the steering wheel but also his seat that guidance was ending.

All the while his navigation software warned him he must resume manual control in a shrill irritating voice. The countdown progressed for five minutes calling off thirty seconds, twenty, and then the last ten second by second. It was easily the worst part of his commute.

Not only was there no way to cancel or mute it, the law now was that wearing noise canceling headphones was illegal and carried a bigger fine than he could risk. Trying to cut the speaker wires resulted in the computer refusing to start the car. All he could do was lay a slab of sound absorbing foam over the speaker. It was plenty loud enough off the backside through the dash and instrument panel.

It had been a little easier when he shared the driving duties with his roomie, but Harry got a promotion that took him across town. The fact they both worked the same hours in the Department of Labor had made sharing an apartment and riding together a little easier. Harry was still willing to shoulder his cut of the rent so George was happy not to lose him. He’d heard so many horror stories about horrible roomers who were impossible to get rid of once in. It would take another hour to wait for Harry to battle the traffic across town to still ride together. Traffic would be lighter by then, but not an hour lighter, and public transportation wasn’t reliable enough to trust. He got used to driving every day without any help again. Harry didn’t share the fuel costs now either so it hit both of them economically.

Harry bought a car, something he’d been avoiding for years. Going directly home he usually only arrived about ten minutes after George. The extra expense more than negated his increase in income, but to turn down the job could dead-end his career. He hoped to be patient and make it up with future advances.

George started to relax a little. If anyone was going to do something reckless like shift lanes or fail to maintain speed they usually did it right at the transition to manual control, no matter how obnoxious the car was about letting them know. The switch was a good half kilometer back and nobody had drifted from their lane or coasted to stop in the middle of the road. He stopped looking all around, satisfied nobody was bunching up, relaxed his two- fisted grip on the wheel, and started thinking about supper. It was his turn to bring it home or cook, and a pizza and salad was sounding better than standing and cooking.

A good two kilometers ahead, on the opposite side of the median there was a flash and a huge fountain of dirt and smoke burst skyward. Roadside bombs were rare but not entirely unknown. If he didn’t get past it he might be parked in a solid traffic jam for hours once investigators arrived. There was a significant thump from the explosion and he eased over to the right lane. There was going to be dirt and debris on the road for sure. He might even need to drive off on the shoulder.

Other drivers were moving to the right with nobody slowing down but one idiot in the far left lane who was braking and apparently intended to just stop without getting off the road. He’d be easy to pass. It looked sweet to get by with everyone funneling to the far right when another fireball exploded right where they were all aimed.

This was almost opposite the initial explosion, but in the time since the first one, he’d closed half the distance. Finding their side of the road blowing up in their faces destroyed any reasoned maneuvering. Some swerved wildly away back towards the left, some went the other way taking their chances with the shoulder or ditch where at least they wouldn’t be ramming another vehicle. A few braked hard and several not at all. It was inevitable some of them would collide and he saw that happening to several before they disappeared into the expanding cloud of dirt and dust.

George held his course straight ahead, pretty sure the impact was off the edge of the road. He’d caught just a brief flash of something coming down from the sky. It wasn’t a car bomb or an IED it was some kind of attack. He still had plenty of time to brake to a stop. The debris wasn’t anything his collision avoidance recognized, it was to diffuse and still too far out in front of him to force his car to brake. He was doing that manually.

Some chunks of concrete and gravel dented his hood and cracked stars in the windshield before he drove into the dust and dirt. He sucked in a deep breath, flying blind, still braking for another three seconds before he came to a full stop. There was a layer of dirt on his hood and a thin film of pale yellow dust across his windshield. Outside was a fog of dirt but not really dark like night time. He reached to turn the wipers on and somebody hit him from behind, slamming him into his seat and propelling the car forward. The impact lifted his foot from the brake too, letting the car roll forward unrestrained.

Behind him was another metallic thump and the car that had just hit him was pushed forward by an unseen vehicle and hit him again, if not as hard. Several more thumps of differing loudness happened behind him and a white pickup truck went past on the left so close he couldn’t believe it didn’t take his outside mirror off. It had a mangled rear end too.

At least twenty or thirty seconds went by with no new impacts. George wasn’t about to get out and chance being run over or crushed between vehicles. He’d sit right here until the authorities showed up to sort out the mess. The fog of dirt was cleared quickly, but there was a new haze in the air of smoke. Somewhere behind him, at least one car was on fire. He tried to call Harry to let him know that there was no telling when he’d get home. The car wouldn’t relay the message. When he pulled out his phone and tried to do it directly it said no service. The little graphic showing signal strength showed nothing. That was weird.

When the air cleared George was sitting with two wheels still on the concrete, but fifty meters ahead the pavement was bulged up with jagged blocks of concrete where the edge of a crater on the shoulder intruded into his lane. There was dirt on the road but piled higher to the southeast side of the crater. The wind was blowing dust and smoke away to the east, and a medivac fan platform went past headed to a point behind him. The craters on both sides of the highway reached clear to the boundary fence and beyond. It didn’t make any sense to him. Was somebody’s aim that bad to miss all four lanes of the road? Like most people, George had no idea what ran underground along the major roads, or that those data cables and fiber were the real targets, cut a score of other places around the capitol. The massive traffic jam wasn’t even intended.

* * *

On the north side of the Fraser River, the newer spaceport got a line of rods down the runway before the old airport to the south received the same treatment. Maybe the bridge between them would have been a logical target too but April left it unmolested. Somebody was smart enough to realize knocking any of her rods off target would endanger much more valuable assets like aircraft hangers and passenger terminals. The after-action analysis would go on for weeks between those praising his insight and those accusing the officer in charge of cowardice for failing to launch.

April’s hope for a protracted repair was dashed by the North American President declaring an emergency and ordering the military to repair the runways immediately. Her warning was taken seriously and no aircraft were lost. The impact was all out of proportion to the damage because it was right in the seat of power, not some backwater halfway across the continent. The breaks in the com networks weren’t total by any means, but it disrupted a number of Federal offices so it was politically sensitive. The firestorm that ignited on the news compared to her other much more damaging strikes surprised April but her mind was on her announcement tomorrow.

Chapter 16

The Foys woke up to that silence that comes with a really deep heavy snow. Eileen looked out the window and came right back to bed.

“Wake me up when it is May,” she demanded.

“You didn’t tell me you hibernate,” Vic said.

“I’m willing to give it a try. I’m not ready for it to be winter.”

“From a practical viewpoint I think we’re pretty well set,” Vic insisted, “better off than a lot of folks.

“Yes, I wonder if Alice is scared of the winter? She lost her parents in the wintertime. She never said if it was to illness or if they starved. One can lead to the other of course. Not that it sounded like things were much better at the Olsen’s. I’m a coward. I didn’t want to make her tell me that story or detail how badly the Olsens mistreated her,” Eileen admitted.

“I don’t think it would be a good idea to pry. I bet if she wants to talk about it she’ll bring it up in her own good time. About all we can offer is an sympathetic ear and better treatment. It’s not like she’s been with us long enough to build a depth of trust.”

When Eileen looked hurt at that Vic reminded her, “We agreed to wait until spring to show her some stuff, so even we have some trust issues this early.”

Eileen nodded. That made sense but wasn’t how she felt.

Vic selfishly hoped if Alice decided to unburden herself that she’d go to Eileen.

* * *

Chen’s man had the video ready. April didn’t make it her business to ask who Chen used for a lot of things. There was a fuzzy boundary there somewhere between normal research and information services and his connections to his spooky past. April really didn’t want to make him tell her she’d slipped over that line. If she wanted a person to do something, or a service rendered, she always made a distinction at the start.

“I’d use this in split screen mode,” Chen suggested. “It wasn’t composed to put you in front of the frame and not obscure anything. It was hard enough to include everything we need and keep the Ranger anonymous without doing that too.”

“OK, and I’ll run it on a screen by the camera so I know what it is showing and can pause it if I want,” April said. “I’ll watch it now and decide if I need notes to narrate it.”

The opening scene started with the second time the assassin sat down. The Texas Ranger was only an elbow and shoulder intruding on the frame. The camera slid off-center to hide the Ranger’s identity when he stood. The picture didn’t expand so his head was cut off the top of the frame as he turned and made the assassin scowl.

You could still see the assassin and as soon as the Ranger had his back fully to the camera the view opened up again. The assassin was somewhat obscured behind the Ranger, but he leaned a bit trying to look around him. April hadn’t remembered that clearly.

When the Ranger slapped his badge on his chest it wasn’t visible in his hand at all. That was excellent. Enough of the assassin’s face was showing, however, to make his shock obvious. His gun hand was clearly visible and there could be no dispute he drew on the Ranger. The response was so fast nobody would doubt the Ranger was gene mod either. April knew that would make a lot of Earthies hate him automatically. There was nothing to be done about that. Indeed it was their obligation to not tie it to the Ranger.

The actual firing of the Taser was almost anticlimactic. There was no bang, no wound or blood, and the spasm that launched the assassin on his back looked more like some a brief seizure or medical emergency that an act of violence. The action stopped there but then there was text detailing what they’d found out about the assassin.

“I’m not going to read that word for word,” April said, “I’ll just hit the high spots and offer to trade him for Irwin.”

“I’ll be watching,” Chen said. “If my people see any significant reaction I’ll let you know.”

* * *

April decided to narrate the video sitting down. When she got angry her body language said entirely too much and she didn’t trust herself to control it.

“Good evening North America. I’m sure you know that your government has a policy of using assassination. It’s rare you ever get to actually see it done even as a drone strike. Rarer still that you see it fail as that looks much, much, worse than the successes.

The day before yesterday my breakfast in the public cafeteria on Home was rudely interrupted. Watch this man because he is about to try to kill me. My own security might have stopped him or not, but it was through the intervention of a stranger to me that he was stopped. We are concealing that man’s identity for his protection.”

April allowed the video to run without comment until the data about the assassin appeared on the screen.

“The man was shocked unconscious with an Air Taser if you didn’t understand what you saw. He was then sedated by our clinic out of concern he might have instructions and the means to suicide. Home Security working with private contractors did an extensive word association brain scan to determine his identity and connections.

I’m fully aware this has no legal standing in North America and is considered an invasive medical procedure. We don’t care. It is not being tried in a North American court, and we are just interested in the facts. If we are off in some small detail the bulk of the truth is as you see detailed on your screen.

“The man is a North American agent, working for the CIA, and associated with some black subgroup called the TLA. You can see he was recruited from the military. The responses to his education, his direct supervisor, last known address and national identity number are yours to check before they are scrubbed from the system. I suspect his favorite ice cream and football team are included because my security has the same crazy sense of humor people in stressful environments like emergency rooms develop to deal with it.

“You can guess he isn’t my favorite person right now, and I doubt he will be employee of the month in his own spy shop. It really wouldn’t bother me to flush him out the airlock without benefit of a p-suit, if they just let the drugs wear off a bit first so he can properly enjoy it. However, I propose we trade this fellow for Irwin Hall straight up. A better deal you aren’t going to get out of me. Now that you have introduced assassination to the game again I’ll feel free to use it too. Do you really want to do that? Just let me remind you, this isn’t the first time I’ve survived an assassination attempt. Are you feeling lucky?”

She cut the feed and waited, expecting Chen to say something.

Chen was smiling when she expanded his window to talk. He wasn’t given to that a lot.

“I got it, but most of your Earthie audience is going to be oblivious to that old flat movie reference. Still, the few that get it will be amused and explain it to the others.”

“Movie?” April asked, confused. “What reference?”

Chen looked disbelieving, shocked, and then roared with laughter.

“Are you feeling lucky?” he repeated. “I’ll send you the movie file. That’s far better than killing the joke by explaining it.”

“If you say so,” April agreed. She had better things to do than watch old movies, but Chen was a valuable asset and she’d go out of her way to humor him.

* * *

The abbreviated Security Council watched the video and at the end, the list of information about the assassin remained on the screen.

“This is your war ending single shot?” President Wiley asked, “It seems to have been a dud round, Gentlemen.”

John Brandon, the head of Homeland Security and the CIA director sitting beside him looked straight ahead. Neither man wanted to be associated with the other today. If Brandon could have figured out how to throw his subordinate under the bus he’d have done so in a heartbeat, but he’d bragged on what they were going to deliver too much to try it.

“I can’t believe she burned his supervisor too,” the CIA man, Hartug muttered. “He seemed unconcerned that confirmed at least some of the data was correct.

“That’s the problem, right there,” Wiley said. “You think in terms of your agency and not the nation, as if we exist as an after-thought to serve the CIA. I want your resignation after the meeting and before you leave the building. You,” he said glaring at Brandon, “I’m not sure about. If you don’t say anything stupid like he just did, then maybe you will still work for me at the end of the day.”

Brandon nodded and determined he wasn’t going to say anything, but alas that went right out the window when Wiley questioned him directly.

“What the Devil is the TLA? And why did this agent work with them?”

“Today is the first time I’ve ever heard the acronym, just like you. “What is the TLA?” he asked, turning to look at Hartug.

“Screw you, I don’t work for you anymore,” Hartug said, waving his resignation letter he’d just scribbled out on his notepad. He slid it in front of his old boss.

“So it exists,” Wiley said, visibly angry.

Hartug just smirked and gave a shrug of his shoulders.

Brandon scowled, but inside he was celebrating his good luck. The little creep had deflected all the blame and hostility away from him.

“We’ll get to the bottom of this,” Brandon vowed.

* * *

Nick Naito invited some of his associates in for an informal meeting. Not just those he regarded as friends. Several were brothers in arms from their revolution and a couple had joined the government after independence. He was well aware only being a quarter Hawaiian, half Japanese, and a quarter Haole was a barrier to full acceptance and deep trust for some of them. He looked Japanese to many who couldn’t see the other influences. If he would never be their close friend they still needed people like him. The islands simply didn’t have enough pure Hawaiians to run things, not even as a ruling class, supposing people would put up with such an arrangement.

If they didn’t respect him personally they could use him to further their goals by means of his agency. He wasn’t in the Finance and Treasury group but Business was what created the wealth they supposedly directed. They couldn’t sabotage his objectives without shooting themselves in the foot. Nick had always kept his personal business as private as possible. He always identified himself as a writer, a propagandist, and an amateur historian. He never revealed he had any investment skills or that he had been taking online courses about large scale planning for several years. He still took classes and found a continuing relationship with the University and having reasons to be on campus valuable. Still, small incidents and cross connections to others made the brighter of his revolutionary associates aware there was more to him than surface appearances. That was exactly where he wanted to be.

He and the people he invited were down in the third tier of the new government. He’d avoided putting himself out in public as a leader and thus a major target certain to be taken down if there were any setbacks or their movement failed. He was still too young to be seen as a post-revolution statesman and there was plenty of time to rise to a higher office when it became safer to do so. Better to be known for now as a handy facilitator.

Since these people didn’t know his personal finances they were unaware he’d made intelligent choices in investments based on his inside knowledge of how the revolution would impact both company values and asset prices of things like real estate. Anyone who investigated him would probably conclude he shared a modest apartment with two other young men of mixed heritage. In fact, it was little more than a mail drop for him.

On occasions, he crashed on their couch when it was too late to climb the long drive to April’s home on the ridge and he needed to stay in the city. Since he picked up a full third of the rent the other two were happy to have him crash there occasionally. If asked, they affirmed he lived there and suggested that if a single young man didn’t come home of an evening occasionally it wasn’t any of their business to investigate, inferring it wasn’t any business of the person inquiring either.

Indeed his secretive nature was one reason several of them had accepted his invitation to meet with him. Especially when the address given didn’t match the address they were supplied to courier materials to him if necessary. If they didn’t have any clear idea of his economic status visiting him at April’s home would create the impression it was his and that would be very impressive indeed. The truth was his worth was somewhere in between needing to share an apartment and being able to afford a home like April’s.

If a check of the land records showed it belonged to a Spacer woman they had no idea if that was true or a subterfuge like sharing the apartment now appeared to be. That the foreign woman was a notorious revolutionary in her own country and had been involved in the killing of a major North American official and his security team in Hawaii made it all the more plausible that it could be a cover. Sometimes it was fun being deliberately mysterious and the best way to lie, sometimes, was to tell a truth nobody would believe.

April had to flee the island before she finished decorating. The house was very sparsely furnished but in very good quality wood furniture if of an odd style for the islands. There were some interior panels of stained glass and a couple of huge oriental rugs that would have been at home in a museum. It was an odd mix and didn’t have any of the island objects some displayed for political signaling. Neither was it a conspicuous display of wealth on top of the very expensive home and land. Nick added a few very modest objects of Japanese origins so it didn’t look quite so bare. There was a vase of indeterminate worth with a tasteful display of flowers and branches typical of Japanese taste. There was a scroll on the wall with brush calligraphy, and an unusually large and expensive telescope he’d borrowed left pointed out the window at the nature preserve.

Where he didn’t stint was in having a buffet set up for his guests. It wasn’t a huge spread but the prawns alone set him back a week’s income. Nick wasn’t much of a drinker, and had been delighted to find a catering service that would set up a full bar and only charge him for what was consumed. He’d been dismayed at the sum of what it would cost to buy a few bottles of all the common drinks people expected a decent bar to have available.

His guests all arrived within a half-hour of each other. Their cars were all parked around the loop that marked the end of the road on the ridge above the house. Two of them had drivers so there was someone watching the unattended cars. He’d warned Diana next door he’d have guests so she didn’t wonder about the sudden influx.

Paul Kanoa was sitting in a chair that gave him a view of the forest downhill of them. He was staunchly separatist and had pushed hard for preferences to native Hawaiians, but Nick noticed he hadn’t abandoned his Christian name like some and he moderated his support of Hawaiian privileges enough to make Nick wonder if a gene scan would show some elements that weren’t Polynesian in his genome. He was nursing a glass of something amber and seemed comfortable. Paul was a clerk in the new Judiciary and a particular target of Nick this evening. Nick had a beer and sat within range of Paul to speak easily.

“This is a magnificent home,” Paul allowed. “I particularly like the view and the way the other homes are set back on the ridge to each side, but the lease on it would ruin me.”

“Ah, well the trick on that is it was a rare fee simple purchase for cash instead of the usual ninety-nine-year lease,” Nick said.

“Is it your name on the title?” Paul asked a little too directly and rudely.

“Oh no, that would be awkward for me. It is titled to April Lewis of Home. If you investigated closely you’d find I’m the authorized property manager and caretaker,” Nick said. “In fact, the position allows me to manage the property without committing personal funds and it even allows it to be used as a channel to pay me for tending it in Australian dollars.” All of which their veracity software would confirm.

The lady from the New Department of the Census laughed disbelievingly at that. Nick silently thanked her. It implied it was all a setup to allow him the use of the home without personal exposure plus the benefits of access to preferred foreign funds. Hawaii didn’t have a currency yet and was struggling along with a mix of foreign notes of which the Australian dollars were preferred. The way he quickly disclaimed it was his when he obviously had free use of it made them disbelieve the truth of the matter. They had all presented false fronts, false names, and held hidden assets for years while pursuing their revolution. They just imagined he must be very clever indeed to have hidden his wealth so artfully.

“It does seem exposed out here on the end of the ridge,” Paul said frowning.

“I suppose it is vulnerable to attack by air,” Nick conceded, “though lower levels go down a long way and are bluntly a bunker it would be hard to breach. The long road uphill is a deterrent to that approach, and the security perimeter extends over the houses on both sides. The lady to the side here,” Nick said pointing, “just got back from Home where she has various business interests with Miss Lewis. I wouldn’t suggest wandering across her yard unannounced. The couple on the other side returned recently from a prolonged visit to Japan to take care of some family matters. They have an arrangement to have their place watched with Miss Lewis. She’s rather fond of them and checks in with their caretaker and has seen to their well being in a number of ways. Miss Lewis speaks Japanese and has many of their attitudes about valuing and caring for elders.”

Paul looked a little surprised. “So you have a tight little arrangement out here perched on the end of the ridge. That’s well thought out.” That was a huge compliment from him.

The fellow beyond Paul was Japanese in heritage though third-generation Hawaiian. He was the only one here from Hawaii’s tiny military. His new rank of Koa corresponded to the western title of Colonel and he came with previous experience.

“Were you aware when Miss Lewis was involved in attacking a Chinese submarine while she was a guest on the island?” Ihara Soga asked. “I was serving North America back then and saw a lot of the communications real-time when that happened.”

“I was already living here,” Nick said truthfully. “I heard of it after from a couple of cousins and an uncle who knew the host family and saw the weapons cross the sky.”

Ihara gave a tilt of his head that seemed to indicate that satisfied him. Nick was happy because he really didn’t want to expose exactly how his family had been involved with Tetsuo Santos and still served his Earth network. He and his brother couldn’t be tightly connected to that family by blood, which was all to the good.

“What exactly did you want to tell us this evening?” Ihara asked directly.

“Only that I was privately told by some friends of hers that the Republic of Texas is quietly supportive of Miss Lewis. I was told there will be feelers made to our government from lower deniable levels of the Texan government to similar levels in ours for closer ties. Eventually even an embassy or a consulate. That’s all, just a heads up so you know you may be getting such a call. That you can have the advantage of some warning it is coming if you get such a communication, wonder if it is real, and want to present it up to your superiors. I haven’t received anything in Commerce but am watching for it.” Nick didn’t oversell it. That would be counterproductive and call his loyalties into question if he strongly promoted it.

“Do you think that is a good thing?” Ihara asked.

“I’m not sure. I’d have to see some actual proposals.”

Any specific details had been withheld from Nick so they couldn’t be teased out by veracity software. He already knew too much.

“Texas, in my opinion, is in the ascendancy,” Nick added. “It’s too easy to assume North America is our enemy in every matter. They have only cut off trade with us and not taken military action against us. On the other hand, a closer association with Texas might be a deterrent to keep them from doing so in the future.

“We already have trade with Home even if neither of us has formally recognized the other. Texas and Home have pretty much the same relationship to Home. It is a complicated and fluid situation. What do you think about it?” Nick asked passing it back to Ihara.

“I’m entirely like you. I’d have to see if it has merit without making us a target. I don’t see us offering much to Texas militarily, except location. I’d hate to see us trade one occupying force for another, so I’d rather see them propose more trade to your department than a military alliance to mine, especially if they wish a base here.”

“Makes sense to me,” Nick agreed. He didn’t say that his cousin was spreading the same rumor of Hawaiian interest and possible feelers in Texas as another agent of Tetsuo. The cousin, like Ihara, was a former USNA officer now in Texan service. Nick had been very careful not to invite anyone attached to Hawaii’s new Intelligence Agency tonight. A professional might have dug deeper with more perceptive questions. The idea was now loose in the wild. Perhaps it would find someone who would think it an advantage for their agency to move first and make it a reality. The action might fizzle out or it might return a huge benefit for little risk and with almost no expense except the cost of a dinner buffet.

* * *

Chen was on the com and oddly he had Jan the Head of Security for ISSII Station on the screen with him.

“We have an odd situation here,” Chen started.

April didn’t say anything. She really got tired of begging every male in her life to just cough up what they wanted to say without preamble.

“There is a rather widespread reaction to your identifying our would-be-assassin with the TLA. In retrospect I should have advised you not to include that in your presentation since we didn’t know what it stands for,” Chen admitted.

“We all screw up now and then,” April said, and shrugged to show her level of concern.

“Jan here finds himself in a difficult position,” Chen said. “He asked me to speak for both of us to work a three-sided deal. The way in which I have an interest in that is he wishes to formally join forces with me doing investigations and security work. As a deal sweetener, he offers to explain what the TLA is.”

“Do you know what the TLA is?” April asked Chen.

“He wouldn’t tell me. He said if I knew you’d have it out of me.”

“Investigations and security work,” April said, sarcastically. “You’d just choke to admit both of you have been spies forever wouldn’t you, Spook?”

“Indeed, I feel my throat constricting at the idea of articulating that,” Chen admitted. “Anyway, the North American press, usually so accommodating, has been making all sorts of broad hints and double entendres about the acronym. They do love a good secret or fresh conspiracy theory. It’s been an embarrassment for a government that’s very hard to embarrass. Jan wishes not only to join forces with me but have it understood he may work with me on many of the requests you make of me. To make it clear, he wishes to come to Home permanently and asks to be under your protection.”

“I’m not sure my protection is that big of a deal. Just declaring Home citizenship has to mean a lot more. You know most of your work for us is directed by Jeff. I’m trying to see why you didn’t put it to him directly. Do you want me to act on your behalf with him? Is this because you saved our butts at ISSII and expect me to feel obligated for that?” April demanded.

“Yes, shamelessly,” Jan spoke up and agreed. “Look at what you are doing for Irwin Hall. Home citizenship should mean a lot more but I don’t see it is there yet. Home isn’t bombarding North America for Irwin. I need a sponsor and advocate who will go to war for me. I’m not sure Jeff fits the bill either.”

“Just between us, I’ve been encouraging everyone to let me handle this. Once political principles are at stake I’m afraid poor Irwin will be lost in the noise. Jan, what kind of trouble are you in that you need that level of protection?” April asked.

“I’ve been Head of Security for the International Station, well, forever. Having dual citizenship helped, and frankly, nobody else really wanted the job. It had all sorts of risks and very little in the way of rewards once your term was up and you went home. I stopped wanting to go home years ago, and never anticipated the political climate would change so. I’m not really in favor now in Germany or Switzerland. Indeed, if I go back it appears I’ll face all sorts of charges for past actions with little in the way of defense possible. I pretty much did all the things of which they accuse me. They used to be delighted I took care of matters, but both countries find themselves bullied by both China and the Russian Republic. Both are now interested in having control of the station to the detriment of the other instead of cooperating as in the past. To do that, they need to get their own man in place there. Both are keen to remove me and do it before my term expires. I’m not sure ISSII itself is going to survive the transition. There is serious talk about building a new international station with fewer nations represented and bigger more up to date facilities.”

“Oh boy. I’m going to bring Jeff in on com and ask him to support it,” April said. “If he won’t buy it we’ll work something out. But it’ll be much easier if he’s in favor of it.”

Jeff appeared working at a keyboard by his posture. He didn’t seem at all surprised to be confronted with a trio of callers.

“Jan has his butt in a legal and political vise. He wants to immigrate here and wants to go to work with Chen. They both want that to include working for the three of us and he asks my personal protection. You in to do that?” April asked.

“Of course, he’s a tremendous asset, and you owe him, so I do too. That’s very astute of him to seek your protection if his problems are of a scale to be addressed with thermonuclear devastation. My compliments and I’m sure Heather will sign on since both of us agree. Was there anything else?” Jeff inquired.

“No, thank you, dear,” April said and disconnected. “With your permission, I’ll fill him in on the details later.”

“Sure, I’m surprised you didn’t tell him right now,” Jan said.

“I could tell he wanted to go back to whatever he was working on,” April said. “He agreed. All I could do by refusing to shut up was irritate him and kill the deal.”

Chen just nodded. He had experience with Jeff.

“So tell me what the TLA is,” April demanded.

“It’s stupid, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when you asked before.”

“And yet, look how handy it was as a bargaining chip. It’s Earth politics, so of course it’s stupid,” April snipped.

“You realize they tend to identify themselves as liberal or conservative?”

“Yes, but since both want to argue over who hates Spacers more that hasn’t meant much to me. Like the big confrontation, we might as well call it a civil war, between the Patriots and the Sons of Liberty. They mostly disagreed over whether to kill us when it was safer or right now no matter what the cost. It’s hard to see any real difference between them.”

Jan nodded. “Well when they change administrations the hardcore factions in the appointed positions at the top generally get purged, but the bureaucracy is forever, and they never purge all the way to the bottom. As a matter of fact, they point to retaining people attached to the opposition as evidence they are bipartisan and open-minded. Those retained may not advance quite as well as those in favor but if they can hang on until their side gets a turn it will reverse for them.”

“Is this actually going somewhere?” April asked.

“Yes, the agent who tried to assassinate you was on the liberal side of the spectrum. That is the party in power now. But a few years ago he wasn’t. Back then he was biding his time, doing scut work and waiting until he would be favored again. He’d socialize with other agents of his political leanings and when they played poker or went out drinking they’d refer to themselves as the Token Liberal Agents, or sometimes as the Token Liberal Agency.”

April stared at him. “That’s it? It was a snarky joking name they applied to themselves. Why would it trigger strong responses in his brain scan?”

“Obviously it was a very long traumatic period for him out of favor. He internalized it strongly so he never let go of it. He deeply identified as TLA in his own mind,” Jan said.

“If I called them up and told them we goofed and explained what happened nobody would believe me would they?” April asked.

“Probably not. I admit I’ve joked about it before and once told Eddie if he didn’t know what the TLA was he didn’t need to know. This is the sort of thing that once it is out there never entirely goes away, because someone will always see it as a cover-up.”

“So what do we do?” April asked him.

“There’s not much you can do,” Jan said with a shrug. “Just not waste your own time thinking it is some deep black agency and let everybody else think as they please.”

“People will lose their jobs and be accused of conspiracy and disloyalty over this,” April predicted.

“Well that’s not all bad,” Jan pointed out. “It’s not like you spread fear and confusion among your friends by accident, is it? I’d have been hard-pressed to engineer such a lovely disinformation campaign on purpose.”

April could only smile thinking about it. Jeff would really be amused by the story.

Chapter 17

“Well that was easy,” Chen said when April was off the screen. “I need to fill you in on everything I’m doing for this triad. It’s interesting that they individually give me assignments without necessarily discussing it with the others. On occasion, the others get wind of the same cases independently and mention them to me. All three obviously have alternate sources, but April more so than the other two. Besides tapping Home Security and reports from a couple of physical security companies, she has an extensive network of informants who feed her odds and ends. I weaseled out of her one day that she gets several hundred messages a day. She was suggesting how I could use the same kind of software to sort my own reports.”

“She’d have to in order to have time for anything else,” Jan said.

“I was impressed that she adapted a relatively simple social secretary program to sort the message with tiered keywords. She isn’t a programmer but she did very well. The volume is so high because she doesn’t make any requests for specific intelligence. People simply submit random tidbits they think of interest and she sends them payments without identifying which report is winning them the payment,” Chen said and smiled.

“I’ve seen such a scheme,” Jan said, “but you usually have to drop random payments to both maintain interest and to cover up any pattern of what you found valuable,” Jan said.

“I assume she does,” Chen said. “Jeffrey tends to make requests of me for technical information that one can find from public sources. A lot of them are pay sources and the challenge can be making sure you don’t broadcast his interest with your searches. Heather, on the other hand, makes far fewer requests but they tend to be off Earth and very specific to persons and a general, ‘Tell me everything you can get on them.’ sort of search.”

“I have assets in Europe and North America,” Jan said. “You, I assume have mostly Asian contacts. I think our coverage will complement each other well. I assume you initiate some cases on your own? Have they ever tried to limit you from doing so?”

“Far from it. When we established our relationship Jeffery offered a decent retainer and suggested it was to his financial benefit for me to have other sources of income.”

“He doesn’t worry about conflicts of interest?” Jan asked.

“That one would simply kill me if he found me in breach of trust,” Chen said.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jan assured him. “I’ve had some dealings with them, you know.”

“I also partner with someone else April uses occasionally,” Chen said. “Unlike us now, I’m not at all certain April knows how connected we are. I’ll have to ask him how closely he wishes to work with you. I presume nothing about him.”

“The fellow who took her off Hawaii and came up later,” Jan said.

“You must know his name then,” Chen said.

“Call me superstitious, I’ve avoided saying it out loud,” Jan looked furtively at the corners of the room.

Chen laughed, “Yes, it would be unnerving if the walls said, ‘What is it?’ back. April feels free to call on him for favors without payment,” Chen said. “I have good reason to think favors are paid the other way too. He regards her well enough to initiate small actions on her behalf of which April is kept innocent so she can’t be caught out being aware of them. I’ll ask if he wants to formally meet you.”

“That would be a privilege,” Jan said.

* * *

Diana called Nick the next morning.

“Hello neighbor, my gardener just gathered a bunch of garlic from across the wall and is going to take it to market. If you want some come on over. I’ll feed you breakfast too.”

“If I bring a bottle of cheap champagne would you make Mimosas?”

“I haven’t seen a cheap bottle of champagne in decades, but I have orange juice whatever you want to bring. I’m down to vodka or rum right now.”

“Nothing so crude, I’m on the way with the bubbly,” Nick promised.

The phone Nick left on the kitchen counter. If he needed to talk to Diana privately it had a short-range encrypted chat app on it but he didn’t want anyone keeping track of when or how often he went between the homes. Turning it off completely just told any trackers something definitely was happening worth hiding. Revolutionary safety habits die hard.

Diana’s Newfoundland, Ele-‘ele, was at the stone fence by the time he got there, knowing what his voice on the phone meant and escorting him to the kitchen door.

“I saw all the cars last night,” Diana said. “A bunch of gas guzzlers too. I thought about taking their drivers refreshments but decided I’d just scare them.”

“Really? I didn’t know any of them made their drivers wait. I’d have given them a comfortable place to wait and something to drink if they’d brought them to the house.”

“Just two, the rest drove themselves like members of the proletariat. As if the workers could ever afford a Brazilian Fiat,” Diana said. She was setting the table while she talked.

“One must keep up appearances,” Nick said in a clipped voice.

“So this wasn’t friend friends but work friends,” Diana said. “I hope you aren’t unhappy and starting the counter revolution already.”

“I guess I have never said, but I’m pretty happy with how things have turned out so far. We didn’t have to fight the North Americans, we’ve avoided massacring any ethnic groups, and the government isn’t hiring every nephew and cousin to live off the rest of the population. I even got a job out of the deal at a low enough salary that nobody wants to kill me for the position. I’m working hard to see nobody does anything stupid like banning the importation of food or declaring shorts are illegal.”

“That was pretty stupid of the North Americans in a tropic climate,” Diana said.

“The Arabs do the same in worse heat,” Nick said shrugging. “We had a discussion last night about banning real fur on the islands. It got quite heated. Fortunately for Ele-‘ele, I was able to talk them out of it.”

“In other words, don’t ask what the agenda was. I know – it’s for my own protection. It’s a good thing I don’t run veracity software on you,” Diana said, loosening the wires on the Champagne. “You know, April accused us of importing revolution to New Las Vegas. I hope there’s no truth to that.”

“It’s us now, is it? I swear we have no plans that way. In truth, we hope to have better relations with other nations. I don’t hold much hope for joy with North America in the short term. It usually takes them a decade or two to get over being enemies, but Texas seems a good candidate for improved trade. Once you have their money committed closer relations naturally follow,” Nick said allowing her a general idea of the issues.

Diana frowned. “Just remember, that’s how Hawaii was taken over in the first place. They sent in the Marines to protect commercial interests.”

“A point one of my guests brought up last night. He didn’t want to see improved relations based on hosting foreign bases. I thoroughly agree with him,” Nick said.

“I think I got the truth out of you there,” Diana said working the cork loose carefully.

“You can run software on that if you want. I have nothing to hide.”

“I have thirty years on you, Bunkie, and my wetware says that is the biggest lie you will tell today. You have tons of secrets to hide and I’m just as happy not to be burdened with most of them,” Diana assured him.

* * *

Heather tried to get herself in the right frame of mind to call Timmy Holbrook. The man wasn’t like most of her subjects. She corrected her own thought… He wasn’t like any of her other subjects. There might be a few near-matches among Earth’s billions but she was pretty sure he was unique among her population. Jeff was about as close as you could find but even Jeff wasn’t the sort of mind to create new ideas. Jeff was better at looking over the things other people created, seeing relationships others hadn’t, and integrating them in new ways.

Dr. Holbrook didn’t mind being called Timmy. Most grown men were happy to leave the diminutive form behind at some point. Holbrook embraced it with no self-consciousness. He was also different to speak with because he didn’t seem to have any of the concern others showed speaking with their absolute sovereign. He wasn’t furiously trying to recall if he’d done anything to displease her or reduce his funding when her face appeared on his screen.

Holbrook was North America and Armstrong’s loss and her gain. When the other lunar colony was in political turmoil a few years ago, she’d snatched Holbrook and several others away before they got deported to Earth. It had been a stretch to set them up with facilities to continue their work. She’d had to cooperate with Marseille to do so and they still shared facilities and benefits with the French outpost, but it had been worth it.

Holbrook and his assistants had continued to crank out novel technologies and improve on the ones they already created. Heather really didn’t speak with him very often. She didn’t need to. Unlike some workers, the scientists got up in the morning eager to start work. It had been a huge boost to their productivity when Heather offered them a free gene mod to reduce the need for sleep by about half.

“Dakota, please hold my calls or handle them if that’s possible,” Heather requested. “I’m going to be tied up with Dr. Holbrook a little this morning. I don’t need any distractions while trying to deal with somebody that much smarter than me.”

Heather expected some snarky reply, but Dakota nodded pleasantly.

“Linda Pennington has called twice already this morning. Do you want me to deal with her?” Dakota asked with a predatory grin.

“Dear God, no,” Heather said, “at least not yet. I know how permanently you’d deal with her. One of the bad things about living on the Moon is you can’t fantasize about a random bolt of lightning taking care of difficult people for you.”

That task taken care of, Heather dismissed the mental picture and made her connection.

“Good morning Dr. Holbrook. How are things going with your studies?” Heather asked.

“I just got here this morning. I’m on my first cup of coffee and haven’t spoken to anyone.” He stopped and looked briefly puzzled. “That is one of those social greetings you don’t really want to be answered, isn’t it? If you wanted to know in detail you’d ask for a formal written report or get together for a discussion, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, it’s a limited scope inquiry,” Heather agreed. “If you had any fires to put out, whether physical or the organizational equivalent, of which I was not aware, I’d agree to offer help or call back another time. It’s one way to ask if you are free to speak briefly.”

“Ahhh, I’m getting better at sorting those out. I was briefly disturbed it was going to take me most of the morning to answer and I had other things scheduled.

“There are no significant problems apparent this morning with either the facility or any of my personnel. Our progress on several projects is a mixed bag, with some success and some disappointment. As my personal assistant and secretary is fond of saying, ‘You win some and you lose some.’ She has a remarkable ability to dismiss a line of inquiry that shows signs of returning little value for the resources it would need to continue.

“I believe the correct thing is now to reciprocate with a limited inquiry as to how your day is going?” he said and smiled. It was kind of scary. Heather wondered who taught him how to do that and if he had an orthodontist, given his perfect dentition.

“No emergencies here either,” Heather said. “I do appreciate the information your assistant is proving of value. I’ll move on to my primary purpose in calling this morning.”

Dr. Holbrook nodded looking relieved.

“Dr. Holbrook, I wonder if it is possible for you to undertake a new study, or help set up somebody to do so under your direction?” Heather asked.

“It is always possible, but we always have more lines of inquiry than we have resources. I need to know how you regard the potential value compared to what you know we are working on,” Holbrook said. “It would be a matter of dropping something less promising to take up this new research. Do you have some estimate of its worth? I will assume you see potential or you would not be asking.”

“Do you remember I sent you a memo that our survey crew saw an alien vessel make passage through the same star system during a visit?” Heather asked.

“Yes, that was interesting, but their drive system appeared similar to the one being developed by Earth nations. It is already inferior to ours and we recovered no artifacts or detailed data. I saw it as a dead-end for now. Do you have new data?”

“We have more data of which you were not apprised,” Heather said. “Previously, it was also a dead-end and a politically sensitive secret we contained as potentially harmful to us. That has changed because we will soon have alien artifacts.”

Heather wondered if he’d be angry he wasn’t told everything but he just looked interested, not upset.

“The Martians have an ancient alien starship wreck,” Heather said. “That has been the driving force behind their declaration as a nation. It is not going well for them and they are expelling other researchers, much like Armstrong did, to reduce their population and concentrate on the wreck rather than the original Martian studies.

“Due to reduced support from Europe, they are up against time limits and need help to remain a viable outpost. They have already had one political killing and change of administration rather than engage in mass murder to maintain their secret.

“In my estimation, revealing they hold this wreck would result in the Earth powers taking extreme measures to seize it. They will envision all sorts of exotic and disruptive technologies coming from it. The truth is otherwise. Not much has been found. The Martians are also lacking in the sort of high technology experts who might find such discoveries.

“That is where we come in.

“In exchange for very limited support in supplies, evacuation of some personnel, and a couple of special machines, the Martians will trade us three distinct subsystems from the ship that they have been able to remove intact. Neither they nor I imagine these are major parts of the vital systems such as the drives, but they still have large potential value to us. It is imperative we maintain the same secrecy for now or risk political chaos.

“I thought of you first as our head investigator, but the return is uncertain. It could be great or nothing. Are you willing to take the risk?”

“Oh yes. Everything on which we are working at present are incremental improvements on existing technologies. This has vastly more potential. I’ll personally take charge of this and supervise three assistants who will each concentrate on one device, but be aware of the others and share information freely. Four people are feasible for both physical and information security.”

“We’re looking at a few weeks before we deliver our aid and take possession of these items as our fee,” Heather said. “Do you need anything to prepare to receive them?”

“I’d like a separate tunnel bored with a controlled entry inside our present security perimeter. I’m sure there is unused cubic behind ours in the public works section. Inside, each device should have its own tunnel and branches but a common lavatory, break room and at least one simple room for researchers to take a nap or stay overnight at need rather than go home. You might consider if any of these scientists being expelled would be of value to recruit for your own uses.”

“That’s an interesting idea. I’ll issue orders today for the boring machine to come down your central corridor and extend it. I’ll arrange it for the first off shift that it can be transported there. You may have to have some workers skip a late shift they intended to work, without giving them any real explanation.

Dr. Holbrook smiled. “My mother taught me the administrative protocol for that. I’ll simply tell them it’s going to happen because I said so.”

Heather struggled to keep a straight face until she signed off. Dr. Holbrook could seem very strange, and then suddenly absolutely dead normal neurotypical without warning.

* * *

The agent in charge of the Miami Secret Service office thought he was smart. April had two previous satellite views of his limo picking him up. The driver stopped at exactly the same spot and went around holding the door open for him before he emerged from the house. He carried a case tucked under his arm and tossed it on the seat before getting in. This morning the same limo parked at the same spot and the man emerged from the house while the driver was still walking around to open the door. The man reached up and put his hand on the roof, getting in with the portfolio still tucked under his arm.

It irritated April. How stupid did they think she was?

She watched the imposter drive off and waited. A half-hour later a delivery van showed up at the rear entry and a man unloaded things to a two-wheeled hand cart and went inside. A man, another man she was sure, came out much too fast to have made the delivery and gotten a signature. He was very awkward at returning the hand truck and pulling the door down. April assumed there must be a driver. Surely, driving a delivery truck would be above his station. If they wanted to play with her she could play with them.

Examining the possible routes to the Federal building there was a long stretch of road they would likely take through a golf course. There were no side roads and beyond was limited access. Traffic was heavy enough to provide a long enough transit time and restrain their movement to let her send a message.

Her first rod dropped from orbit starting when the van was about a kilometer and a half short of the last side road. By the time it was a flaming meteor descending from the sky the van was past the turnoff and committed to the road. The rod didn’t hit the road, rather it was aimed out on the golf course a half kilometer to the side near the opposite end. The rod was followed by others at twenty second intervals, walking a line of explosions right up to the road. The water table was so near the surface here that they made an impressive fountain of mud each time a rod blew a shallow crater in the golf course.

The motorists on both sides either braked to a stop or sped up to escape the line of explosions walking toward them, although a few played it much too close and emerged from the mud storm wipers working to clear the muck. The last rod in the series cratered the now vacated roadway.

When traffic going the opposite way cleared the van did an awkward turn as did others, having to back up twice to point the other way. It didn’t have an opportunity to even start back the way it had come before a line of explosions repeated the same process in front of them cutting off their retreat.

With the van was stuck behind a line of traffic and trapped between the cratered ends of the road April dropped two more rods to make sure her point was driven home. A rod dropped on either side of the road exactly beside the van, as close as she dared without the risk of killing the agent with a slight miscalculation. It pelted the van with debris and likely busted the windows. Certainly, it was deafening and if the man wasn’t scared out of his wits then something was terribly wrong with him.

It took a full half-hour for a fan platform to land and extract the agent. The pilot stayed in the platform and a guard went to help him across the shoulder and uneven field. The delay after he boarded suggested they’d shut down the fans to keep from soiling his suit. It wouldn’t have surprised her if the guard had carried him piggy-back to preserve his dress shoes. If there was a driver left in the van they didn’t rescue him. She’d seen enough and cut the feed even though she had more time bought. She couldn’t imagine she’d failed to make her point.

* * *

“I can work with you,” Tetsuo said. “We do have different styles. You are publically notorious, which came back on you eventually, but it can be useful too. I’d rather remain unknown to the public, but that has its own hazards. If I vanish there would be no outcry.”

Chen was just observing, nervous over the meeting he’d arranged.

“The public has a very short memory. I expect I’ll be forgotten quickly,” Jan said.

“But institutional memories last longer. Your face is on the web beyond ever erasing. I will be happy to partner with you like Chen. Having you as a public face might even have business uses. Chen and I can hardly open an office and be seen coming and going. But I don’t intend to appear with you in public.

“That’s perfectly acceptable,” Jan said. We may be able to create a sort of transitional agency that affords some information gathering to augment security services such as Christian Mackay offers. Some would be quite open and some clandestine.”

“Exactly, Chen and I regard helping Home and its institutions as beneficial to our own safety and fortunes. We are not chauvinists, but it is our haven from Earth. For example, we are running a small operation to draw Hawaii and Texas together as a counter to North America. We generally regard North America as hopelessly flawed and in opposition to Home. We want to be paid when that is possible, but we also act in our own interests that way when it is possible incidental to our other work. How do you feel about that?”

“It’s nothing I haven’t already done,” Jan said with a casual wave. “I helped April escape ISSII without specific payment, and it had eventual benefit. Flushing the offending Chinese out the airlock was something I added for free and happy to do it. I’ve come to regard aiding April and her people as pretty much the same thing as aiding Home. I hope to now benefit from doing what just seemed the right thing to do at the time.”

“Yes, I think we can work together just fine,” Tetsuo said smiling.

* * *

Heather had their jump crew in again. If she talked to only Deloris on com she had no feel for how their chemistry was working. She wanted to feel sure she wasn’t piling too much on them like she had before. They seemed happy and attacked her buffet without restraint.

“Laja has some time free before she starts for Larkin,” Heather told them. “She’s going to second to one of his freight handlers after the chief is promoted and the current second moves up. I’d like you to take her on a tour to recover mining yields and refuel mills and claim radios on the minor planets.”

They all did the look around thing so quick she’d have missed it if she blinked. Deloris just nodded yes easily. Apparently, they weren’t having any second thoughts they were shy to bring up about Laja since their last visit.

“Do you have a preference who takes her and who gets leave?” Heather asked

The four looked back and forth among themselves like they’d done before but it seemed to require a back and forth look that touched each of them and took a couple of seconds to work this more complicated question out. It was starting to creep Heather out that they seemed to communicate non-verbally. If they at least lifted an eyebrow or used some helmet talk like riggers it wouldn’t be so strange. It was enough to make you reconsider telepathy.

“I’ll fly it with Barak. Alice and Kurt will take leave,” Deloris told her.

If they did this flying together Heather had to wonder if Laja would be able to decipher their code or not fit in? If she couldn’t, Heather resolved not to automatically blame her. There were procedures to follow on a flight deck, not nods and blinks.

* * *

“Better for us if she’d killed him and a hundred innocent bystanders,” the Secretary of Defense said. “It was humiliating. She played with him and it hasn’t gone unnoticed he was willing to sacrifice the limo driver and double to put her off him.”

President Wiley sighed. “If the banker would have a fatal accident, food poisoning or something, there would be nothing left to argue about. People will believe it if they know what’s good for them.”

“She said straight out it would be blood for blood,” Brandon reminded them. “Reviewing everything that has happened, she has done everything she said she would. The woman hasn’t backed off or bluffed once. What the public will accept is irrelevant. We’re actually at horrible risk just holding him. If he really did have a heart attack or something she’d never believe it. I’d never believe it at this point.

“If she just removed New York City from the map we might survive as a nation,” the Secretary said, “but I wouldn’t expect any of us in this room to be around to see how it works out if we trade New York for one rather unexciting banker who committed an obscure and non-violent financial crime. Too many people will know. It’s not like we arrested him in secret and the issues haven’t been out before the public.”

“Assuming she would stop there,” the Commander of Space Forces reminded them. “If she dropped a rather large weapon such as they’ve used before on say, six major cities I’m not sure the nation would survive in a recognizable form.”

“Do they have six?” The Secretary asked.

“We have no idea. They could have used those two and be out or have sixty ready to rain down on us,” Director Brandon said. “These three have such tight security we have no way to determine what they are doing. They use less than two dozen fabricators and suppliers and it’s impossible to sort their weapons purchases from their other businesses. Their suppliers are paranoid and all know each other. We suspect only the three principal owners have the actual keys to the weapons systems and they don’t share any of their private systems with the militia or other armed transport businesses. There are no government reporting requirements or bidding processes to expose the extent of their preparations. It’s just too small an organization to penetrate.

“That statement about ‘Do you feel lucky?’ is both strange and troubling. Some thought it a quote from an old flat movie. It wouldn’t make sense because the character in that scene had shot his weapon empty and was bluffing. She’d hardly signal us she was bluffing.”

“Not unless she really wants to sucker us into giving her an excuse to bombard us and still be able to claim it was our decision that forced it later. It would allow her to keep her hands clean for public opinion and history,” President Wiley said.

“Once you speculate beyond the first layer of deceit you are gauging your own levels of paranoia as much as your enemy’s intentions,” the Secretary insisted.

“If you don’t feel like committing political suicide, and you have to give the damn banker back, all I can think to suggest at this point is to get the best exchange you can with the least possible public humiliation,” Brandon suggested. “Take the assassin back gratefully even if we don’t really give a damn about repatriating him at this point. It will be one small thing that looks better to the public. We can arrange for a safe pasture to put this old horse out to retirement where nobody will get to him for internal methods and secrets.”

“Then arrange it as best you can, quickly, before she decides to kill the next target instead of just playing cat and mouse with him. That would make coming to an accommodation with her even more difficult to justify,” Wiley said. “I’m giving clear orders he is to be released at your direct request in case anyone balks.”

“Brandon nodded, happy inside that these orders seemed to indicate the CIA chief had deflected all blame off him or he wouldn’t be charged with this task.

“I’ll see to that without delay,” he agreed.

“And Brandon, I’ll accept it may not be possible today but I want a small very black group formed to study how to take down these Spacers. I want them to keep at it until they have a viable plan and I want it compartmented so tight the Homies never hear of it.”

Brandon just nodded.

Chapter 18

“I’m Peter Prescott, assistant to Director of Homeland Security John Brandon,” the man on the screen announced.

“Hang on,” April said, splitting her screen and running a search on the name and title.

“OK, I see you online. Nice picture on the department site too. What do you want?”

“I’d like to arrange the transfer you publicly offered of Mr. Hall in exchange for the operative you are holding.”

“What’s to arrange?” April asked. “Put Irwin on a plane headed to any free country and I’ll make sure your guy is on the next scheduled shuttle to ISSII. For that matter, Irwin is a big boy. Turn him loose at any airport and he has credit to buy his own ticket anywhere he wants to go. That’s also why I’m not asking you to show me your authority. It doesn’t matter what you say, only what you do.”

“Surely there are other conditions,” Prescott said. “We certainly would like to have some guarantees you won’t turn this trade into a public spectacle.”

“It’s kind of late for that, I mean, how much more of a spectacular can I make than an orbital bombardment?” April asked him.

“Your statements and the tone of them in your communications are of as much or more concern to us than the physical damages that have occurred.”

“Ahhh, OK. We think differently. You don’t want me to keep talking about it and embarrassing you after you give him back,” April figured out. “I have a life. I’m not interested in spending my time tormenting you once I have what I want. You may have even noticed my statements before each strike have been progressively shorter. Once I have Irwin free I won’t keep harping on it, I assure you.”

“Can you say the same for Mr. Hall?”

“How can I speak for him? Irwin does business with me but he isn’t my employee. Truth is, we don’t really socialize, though I’d count him a friend. Perhaps you should ask him if he’s willing to be muzzled to be released. One thing I’m sure of, if he agrees he’ll keep his word. But don’t be surprised if he’d rather sit and contemplate his navel than give you the satisfaction of yielding. Don’t mistake how quiet he is for a lack of character. Whatever story you wish to tell your public to excuse releasing him doesn’t concern me.”

Prescott stared at her. He’d asked the jailers if the banker was really still fit physically and mentally to be returned because he didn’t want his own people to trap him in a very public fraud. They’d told him just like April had, how hard and centered the man was. He still felt a disclaimer was prudent.

“I was assured he is healthy. I asked so I wouldn’t be seen as bargaining in bad faith. I can’t say he may not be traumatized. I certainly might be.”

“Send him back with all his limbs and digits and I won’t argue about his mental state,” April said. “After all, your assassin didn’t have an easy time of it here. We’ve kept him sedated so long you’re going to have to detox him. You might also make sure he doesn’t have a suicide impulse triggered that letting him return to normal will activate. That’s on you if you lose him by stupidity or on purpose.”

When Prescott didn’t react well past the signal lag April grew worried.

“What else?” Her face got hard. “You aren’t holding out for a ransom or something are you? Be happy I didn’t demand you reaffirm our old treaty. I won’t do that because bluntly, your word means nothing to me. You people have lied and lied to me too many times to fool me again. Just because I’m speaking politely doesn’t mean I don’t hate your guts, Earthie. Just push me to find out how much.”

This woman was dangerous, Prescott realized. He needed to speak quickly because just his brief silence had been misconstrued. He shook his head no to signal he’d respond and picked his words carefully.

“No, I believe I accomplished all I can. We have no further…” he caught himself before he said demands. That was probably not a good word to use, “requests. I’ll tell the Director the terms of the exchange. It should happen quickly. How do you want it reported to you?” Prescott asked.

“Give Irwin his phone back, or a new one. I’ll believe him when he tells me he is free and I can drop some security to meet him. He’s going to accept that gift from me until he’s back home or I’ll wash my hands of the whole matter and write him off as terminally stupid,” April said.

That jolted Prescott more than anything she’d said before. He couldn’t imagine what tangent this woman might take. What diplomat would threaten the person she was working to release in her next breath?”

“That, of course, is between you,” Prescott agreed. “I’ll go set it in motion right now.”

April just nodded and didn’t waste a goodbye on him before stabbing disconnect.

Prescott let out a long sigh of relief that he made it through this emotional minefield. It took a few moments to regain his composure before he called his boss.

* * *

“You are being released,” a strange man informed Irwin on his cell monitor.

Irwin had been singing an old musical he remembered from his childhood. He suspected he’d made up some of the lyrics to fill gaps in his memory. That didn’t dim his enjoyment of it at all. He’d sung it this way so many times now he probably couldn’t relearn the right words again. He finished that measure and stopped.

“Oh well, I believe it will be tacos for lunch again,” Irwin said, “so no great loss.”

Prescott still wasn’t sure this was a sane and stable individual.

“Don’t you want to know where?” Prescott asked.

“Do I have a choice?” Irwin asked. “I was on my way to Belgium if that’s an option.”

“No, France was willing to accept you after all the public… fuss. So there you go.” He hadn’t identified himself and Irwin seemed uninterested in that too.

“That will do nicely. I don’t have much packing to do,” Irwin said with a gesture around the cell. “So…”

“The guards are coming to escort you out. It’ll be just a few minutes and they’ll take you to Out Processing. For your belongings,” Prescott said.

Irwin laughed. “The bureaucratic mind is an amazing thing. After kidnapping me and forcing me here, it still has to show it is in control and will decide exactly how I must leave. I suppose they will cuff me to make sure I don’t escape on the way to my release?”

“Undoubtedly. I’m sure it’s a rule of the facility for handling prisoners. Officially, you are being expelled, so it’s not like a release after exoneration. My name is tied to you since I was tasked with this mess. I didn’t volunteer. I have an interest in seeing you safely on that plane so I can say that successfully terminated my involvement.”

“I can’t fault you there,” Irwin agreed. “I could cause you untold harm if I were vindictive and decided to escape on the way to the airport.”

“How so?” Prescott asked, puzzled.

“If as I suspect, you’ve been dealing with Miss Lewis, picture how likely she would be to believe you’d innocently lost me on the way to fulfilling whatever bargain you’ve made.”

Prescott could picture that, given the undercurrent of his last conversation with April. Irwin had a smug smile that said he knew the value of his life now and what it could buy. He didn’t think Irwin was suicidal, but he’d tell the guards to treat him that way and make sure they used those cuffs and hobbles. He couldn’t see why Irwin would be angry enough to trade his life for a few million Earthies. He didn’t think he’d been tortured. But the fact the man thought of the possibility and how to do it so easily was enough to scare him spitless.

* * *

Even Barak, the youngest of their crew, thought Laja looked awfully young as a first impression. She didn’t say a lot right away or assume things like how they would want to be addressed. She asked several intelligent things, the first being if she would have any duties at all or just observe. The thing that impressed both Deloris and Barak was nothing she actually did or said. Nothing that she was aware of at all. It was simply that she showed up in a top of the line moon suit with her name printed in faded vacuum marker and visibly worn. Rubbed and scratched and stained from long hours of use.

When they got clearance from Central Traffic Control and plainly stated they intended to leave controlled lunar space and make a transition to Ceres, Laja’s eyebrows went up, but she stayed silent. Heather obviously hadn’t mentioned the changed policy of not hiding the drive capabilities to her.

The transition did get a “Wow” out of her, because the Moon was visible out their ports and just vanished when they jumped. The arrival wasn’t nearly as spectacular just being a starfield and Deloris explained they had a long burn to make to match velocity with the minor planet.

“Do you guys have any objection to me running a public eye?” Laja asked, tapping the dome of a lens on her shoulder.

“Not as long as you don’t publish me belching or Barak picking his nose,” Deloris said.

“No problem, I’d never show crew in an unfavorable light,” Laja assured them.

“April always runs a cam,” Barak said. “I bet she has years of video. I know she has almost every hour of her time when she visited Earth.”

“My mom encourages the whole family to do it,” Laja said. “She figures if somebody is stupid and kills themselves the video will be a powerful lesson not to do the same. And if it wasn’t their fault it can still help avoid the problem for somebody else.”

“She’s right,” Barak said. “When Deloris and I went on the first snowball mission our suit cameras saved our butts. The whole mission was a study in what not to do. I was working outside rigging engines and lines under this fellow Harold Hanson. He kept ignoring basic safety directives such as unclipping from safety lines. When we came in from working the ice clung to our boots and it had enough volatiles to stink, so he had a habit of kicking one of the safety line posts to knock the ice off before going in the lock.”

“Kicking? With his suit boots? This isn’t going to end well,” Laja said.

Deloris returned to the seat by them with coffee for everyone. “It’s Heather’s own coffee as a crew gift when she sent us off, cool enough to drink without burning your mouth.”

Laja took a moment to savor it. “I had some of this when we went begging for business and for my job. I didn’t expect to have it again much less so soon. Mom buys instant coffee, some German stuff, Tchibo, but it never compares to real bean coffee.”

“The Three have been taking care of us in little ways,” Deloris said, “little luxuries and Kurt and Alice are on leave now to Home. We hope we made a good choice working for them and it will pay off very well in time.”

“I’d work for room and board and a chance to fly starships,” Laja said, “but you don’t have to relay that to them. If I can get paid too…” She made an expansive gesture that wasn’t very clear except to imply that was overwhelming. “So, do continue. How long did it take this idiot to kill himself?” she asked Barak.

“Two weeks, fortunately not until we had the motors set and the supply and control lines iced in. He kicked the ice off one last time with his safety line off and the pressure boot flange fractured and blew off.”

Laja stared horrified. “Did you ever recover the body?”

“Nope. He propelled himself out of sight.” Barak made a WOOOSH sound and a sweeping gesture. “All we recovered was his pressure boot with the cracked flange.

Laja sipped her coffee and frowned. She was obviously thinking so furiously Barak and Deloris let her digest the story before saying more.

“I get the hazard and failure part of it,” Laja said, “but I’m trying to see how this story ties into your needing your camera recordings.”

“Oh, that’s because the XO and the Captain tried to frame me for killing him. The fact I was keeping my own recordings was important. They claimed the suit recordings were lost. Indeed, they implied I might have done that to cover up my crime. I was even confined to quarters by the XO for a while,” Barak said.

“But not by the Captain?” Laja said, looking even more confused.

“The acting Captain,” Barak allowed. “The Captain was incapacitated after we had a fire aboard and we couldn’t find him. The bridge was locked and no watch set. The XO gave me a hearing on the accusation during that time when she was doing emergency medical work on the Captain.”

“Nobody on the bridge is crazy, and that wouldn’t have been your duty for sure. It’s hard to imagine letting things get that messed up. You must have been cleared then or when you returned because you’re still a rated spacer,” Laja decided.

“Not really. It never came up again. The XO sent me off under cabin arrest, but the Captain regained consciousness and informed her he wasn’t going to take the blame for Hanson’s death and he’d see she’d never fly again. She took him at his word and killed him.”

“Your XO killed your Captain?” Laja asked, mouth not quite able to close.

Both Barak and Deloris nodded yes.

“Didn’t you find it difficult to serve under her to bring the ship back?”

“Thankfully, she solved that dilemma for us by taking an EV without remembering to put a suit on,” Deloris said. “She very politely left a suicide note too. Other than the fact nobody was left who knew how to fly the damn thing, it greatly simplified everything. It did leave us a bit short-handed, however.”

“Why haven’t I heard about this?” Laja asked.

“Nobody involved would really benefit from it being made public,” Barak said. “It didn’t cover the accrediting body or the owners with glory. We didn’t want to advertise it since you know how people are. A great many would always wonder if things could go so bad and we were really faultless. There were mistakes made after that too, when the owners didn’t make adjustments to our required duties even though half the crew was gone. It’s a wonder we didn’t lose the ship after, just from that mistake.”

“It must be a lot more complicated than that,” Laja decided.

“Oh my, yes. That’s just the highlights. But it’s enough of the story for you to be aware we’ve been on a very difficult cruise. Alice was part of that expedition. We all got treated very well as far as professional credentials and advancement for bringing the ship home. Unfortunately, we didn’t make much money, but then we were lucky to be alive and much, much more experienced. We’re still applying the lessons we learned to try to develop better recruiting methods for Jeff.”

Laja looked at both of them wondering how they could be so dispassionate about describing a voyage like that. There was no angry cursing or raised voices.

“After such a horror story you aren’t going to be very trusting, and you will be very picky and cautious about crewing with anybody you don’t know thoroughly, like me.”

“She figures stuff out pretty fast,” Deloris told Barak.

* * *

The last person April expected to call her was Irwin. He was sitting in a small aircraft using a standard seatback phone camera. He didn’t look unhealthy or particularly stressed.

“Nobody told me you were released,” April said, surprised. “What’s wrong with these people? I made a bargain to release their guy when you were let go. You’d think they’d be clamoring for me to keep my end of the deal. They better not claim I didn’t.”

“You took a hostage?” Irwin asked. “I have no idea what’s been going on. Nobody will tell me anything. This is the first free access to a phone I’ve been allowed since being arrested. When I asked if the phone was active and could I use it the attendant smiled and said nobody ordered him to deactivate it or keep me from using it. That seemed to amuse him. I was just about to ask if it was you who got me sprung as my first question. They said you were warring with them but never told me any details.”

“I’ve been… encouraging them to let you go,” April admitted. “With help, but better not to discuss it in detail on open com. I didn’t take a hostage. The CIA delivered one on a platter by activating a sleeper agent on Home to assassinate me.”

“Well don’t rush to release him just yet. I’m in a State Department biz jet somewhere over the Atlantic. At least that’s who the attendant said he works for when I asked. He’s in civilian clothes. They claim France has agreed to accept me, but after I disconnect they could make a U-turn, or push me out the hatch over the Azores.”

“Then France should have called me,” April insisted. “Somebody should have called me.”

“They may be afraid you will have cameras and news crews there when we land and use the occasion as propaganda to further sully their reputation,” Irwin said.

“You’re right. It would have never occurred to me they have any sort of a reputation to protect,” April admitted. “I need to talk to the French and make sure how they are going to receive you. I’ll make sure you are going to have their best security, and arrange for some serious protection to join them as soon as possible to supplement or replace them. Before I go is there anything else you need? Did they return your belongings? Do you need anything brought from Home?”

“Why do I need any security now?” Irwin insisted. “They’re letting me go. It would hardly make sense to turn about and snatch me again.”

“They wanted me to assure them I wouldn’t keep making a public spectacle of our dispute,” April said. “I agreed, but when they asked the same for you I told them I really have no handle on you to make such a guarantee. They may regard you as a potential liability. I doubt they’d snatch you again but they might silence you. Of course, if you wish to bet on their benevolence and sense of fair play I can wash my hands of the matter and let you arrange whatever you wish in France. If they dump you on the tarmac and take back off you at least have some cards or funds I assume?”

“As a matter of fact, I did have my wallet returned to me. I have my own bank’s taster card and my cafeteria card for photo ID.”

“Well, that’s going to impress the Earthies,” April said.

Irwin winced. “Nor do I have my luggage or clothing beyond what I am wearing. They also didn’t return my supposedly illicit coins or bits. The charges against me were not withdrawn, rather the fellow releasing me said I was being expelled.

“Who was that?” April demanded.

“You have to understand. There is a certain psychological battle one engages in as a prisoner,” Irwin explained. “They had certain expectations about how one should react that I refused to fulfill. I strove to stay outside the typical responses of the helpless and frightened. So refusing to ask the man’s name was to imply he didn’t matter.”

“That’s hardcore,” April said. She obviously approved.

“I sang quite a bit too,” Irwin revealed.

“Oh, sort of reverse torture,” April said, nodding her understanding.

Irwin ignored that. His mother always said he had a nice voice.

“I put myself in your hands,” Irwin decided. “You’ve had such success so far. It seems short-sighted and ungrateful to ignore that and chart my own course before I even know how you brought me to this point. I have more stories, but if you wish to arrange my reception I’d welcome that. We can speak again and decide if I should return to Home or continue my business trip. I have no idea what may have changed. The investors may have been intimidated by my arrest. I need to speak with everyone involved.”

“I’ll go do that before you’re on the ground,” April said and disconnected.

April punched in Mssr. Pierre Broutin, Foreign Minister of France as a search. It would be embarrassing if he’d been retired or removed in the short time since he’d visited Home and April didn’t know. She didn’t follow Earth politics closely enough to know but what they might have had an election last week or if they might be in the midst of some uproar about him or his party. If he wasn’t in power and in favor she really didn’t know another French politician to call directly. The first story up was about him dealing with some mess involving Albania just three days ago so he was golden to call for help.

As always, Broutin looked like an ad for an exclusive men’s tailor when he appeared.

“Pierre, April here. I’m still on Home so don’t let the speed of light lag on the com drive you crazy. I have a friend now being transported over the Atlantic to be released in France, expelled really, by the North Americans. Nobody told me they were transporting him. He called from the biz jet himself. I don’t know who to call on your end. Can you make sure he is met and kept safe? I have no idea who to call. He has no clothes and little in the way of papers. I suppose they should just put him up in a decent hotel. I’ll send private security, but I’m sure he’ll be wheels down before I can get them there.”

There was lag while he listened and perceived she was done.

“We are aware they intended to accept our invitation to host Mr. Hall. I’ve spoken with Joel about this just yesterday, but they have not informed us he was on the way. If it was a commercial flight he’d have been required to be pre-cleared before he left, but if it is a diplomatic flight that isn’t done. I’ll have it investigated and get back to you shortly. Is that satisfactory?” Broutin asked.

“Perfect, April agreed. “I didn’t know if you would be aware of it, much less the Prime Minister. It’s more a financial dispute that should have never been a problem.”

Pierre smiled. “The Prime Minister follows any news about you. He’s a romantic and sees you as a pirate and a throwback to a simpler more direct era.”

He paused, smiling more than could be accounted for by lag, considering what to say, or perhaps whether to say it at all.

“I believe in the English idiom you’d consider him a fanboy.”

April had suffered through a period when Home was in revolt where the newsies promoted her image, abused her naiveté really. It hadn’t helped she’d adopted a dark and militaristic mode of dress. The result had been a lot of fanboys, but they were mostly teens and twenty-somethings copying it in rebellion. There were flash copycat outfits sold that were quickly banned from schools and public venues. The fanboys grew out of it and she rarely dressed like that now. To think that somebody still thought that way was a little creepy but a middle-aged politician even more so. She’d have said so, but it seemed counterproductive to scold the people rendering her aid.

“Thank the Prime Minister when you have an opportunity,” April said.

“I will, but you might consider taking a few minutes to do so yourself after the affair is concluded,” Pierre suggested. “It never hurts to have friends in high places.”

True, and a cheap price for their help, April realized. “I will,” she promised.

Pierre nodded and disconnected.

April hoped Jeff was as receptive.

“Hello dear,” April was gratified to see he didn’t have his distracted face on, and she could really speak to him in detail. “Irwin is on his way to France. Mssr. Broutin is supposed to arrange a safe reception and confirm it with me. Can you arrange some private security to cover Irwin until he is safely back here?”

Jeff frowned. “I think so. Otis and Mackay declined a rescue, but I believe they’d take a guard assignment now that he’d freed. If they aren’t free they have partners to take the assignment. I’m very aware I can exert undue influence as you taught me. I’ll ask them and make sure they understand they can refuse without prejudice.”

April for her part was regretting they’d had that talk.

“When do you want them ready to go? It will be a good five day trip to France even if the shuttle flights all line up nicely,” Jeff reminded her.

“I’d hoped we could provide transport,” April coaxed him. “Dionysus’ Chariot isn’t in use is she?”

“OK, call it two days with aggressive acceleration,” Jeff corrected.

“I thought we agreed to stop hiding our jump capacity,” April reminded him.

“You want to micro-jump through Earthie radar coverage to LEO direct and land? We could do that in three jumps, but we’d need a bit of velocity to insert in LEO. It would be a long burn on top of obvious superluminal transitions. Are you sure you’re ready to put on that big a show?”

“Why not? How long are we going to tiptoe around and hide it?” April asked.

Jeff took a deep long breath. “OK.”

“Can you get Deloris to lift for Home dock as soon as you have a contract for security?”

“Deloris and Barak are in the outer system with an apprentice, collecting product off the French mills and refueling things,” Jeff said. “Alice isn’t rated and doesn’t want to be and I wouldn’t trust Kurt to play jump ship billiards inside L1 and do a hot atmospheric landing. He just doesn’t have that level of experience yet.”

“You just want to do it yourself,” April accused.

“Not really, and that surprises me as much as you. I’m gotten to the point where what once sounded like an adventure to me now just sounds like a thousand ways for things to go bad. I know I’m much more experienced and understand the systems and software better than anybody else. I have no desire to taunt anyone to make a point, and would take every opportunity to avoid coming anywhere near North America airspace.”

“If you’re going to play it so safely then you’d have no objection to me sitting second seat and weapons board,” April challenged him.

“There’s nobody I’d rather have beside me,” Jeff said, shocking her. She expected endless reasons not to risk both of them, including what a disaster it would be for Heather.

“What’s your estimate from dock here to ground in France then?” April asked.

“Assuming we can hire the security and they are waiting at dock with you, an hour for me to get to Home, a half-hour to load, a half-hour talking to traffic control between jumps and an hour deceleration and atmospheric entry. I’ll try to call and hire them on the way to save time,” Jeff said.

“Three hours? An hour to Home?” April asked skeptically.

“Including my time to get aboard,” Jeff said. “If we’re not being shy about demonstrating jump technology then I’ll jump away from the Moon after I’ve lifted a kilometer and jump right back to Home as close as I dare.”

“Is a kilometer safe?” April worried.

“I’d do it at a hundred meters straight up in an emergency,” Jeff insisted. “In fact, I’ve given it some thought. If you jumped from Earth it would just drag an envelope of air along with you. I’m still not eager to find out what would happen if you transitioned into an atmosphere.”

“Promise me you won’t do that just to find out if it works,” April asked. “That’s the kind of thing you need to test with a robot from a good safe distance.”

“Absolutely, I wouldn’t do that unless I was sitting under an inbound warhead there was no way to intercept or evade any other way,” Jeff promised.

“Go, and let me know if Otis or Mackay sign on. If they don’t we need to find somebody else. I’ll pass what the French say to you as soon as I hear. I have no idea where in France we need to go or if they will allow it.”

Now all April could do was wait. That was the hardest of all.

“Otis, this is Jeff Singh. I’m on the lift to board the Dionysus’ Chariot at Central. Irwin Hall is released and on a plane for France. It’s no longer a hostage situation or a rescue, but April wants to deliver security to him. If you want the job, be at the north docks as fast as you can gather your equipment and be there. If you don’t want it I absolutely won’t hold it against you, but see if somebody else qualified will take it. I’m flying the drop myself with April second. If nobody takes the contract we’ll guard him,” Jeff suddenly decided. He’d argue that with April later.

“As fast as we can get there? Today?” Otis demanded, shouting a little.

“I expect to be there in less than an hour, in France in a couple more hours.”

“We’ll be there,” Otis promised, if only to see what the man was flying.

“Otis says yes,” Jeff sent to April. “They will be at the north docks as soon as he collects Mackay and gears up. He may beat you there.”

Chapter 19

“Central Traffic Control, this is the armed merchant Dionysus’ Chariot piloted by Master Jeffery Singh ID number 899-17-1179 piloting solo, requesting clearance to exit controlled lunar space. Be aware I am filing an unconventional flight plan. Please do not assume there is an emergency or declare one when I disappear from your radar.

“I request lift on my 14:07 Zulu tick at two g to a kilometer altitude and I intend to make a superluminal transition to exit your control volume on a line tangent to lunar orbit two hundred thousand kilometers along the negative vector. I will then rotate and do a superluminal transition to a point trailing Home’s Earth orbit sweep and contact Home Local Traffic Control for entry to their control volume while braking to match their orbit and request docking. Please copy Armstrong Control and advise my status.”

To Traffic Control’s credit, there were only ten seconds of dead air time before they responded to this outrageous flight plan.

“Dionysus’ Chariot, you are cleared to lift on your numbers and we are copying Armstrong Control. We suggest you allow us to advise Home local by relay, as they will have less than the usual lead time to accommodate fitting you in traffic.”

“That’s an excellent idea, Central, thank you. I’m in my two-minute window.”

“Be careful out there,” Central said automatically.

“What the hell?” said an indignant unidentified voice. It wasn’t Central and Jeff didn’t think it was Armstrong. He strongly suspected it was Earth Control monitoring and they just saw his flight plan, but they didn’t say anything more before the Chariot lifted on auto.

A short boost ended in free fall. Dionysus’ Chariot turned itself on thrusters and did a star shot to lock its attitude well before it started to fall again. Only the lines on his screen changing as the computer worked down through the flight program told Jeff that the ship had jumped. It wasn’t obvious until the ship rotated a hundred eighty degrees and the crescent Moon recentered itself in the forward viewports. The Earth hung to one side.

There was a brief movement as the ship aimed slightly away from the Earth at Home, which was of course not visible at this distance. Jeff programmed that as a separate action. It might not be as elegant but if anything went wrong it would be easier to figure out why later. He had a stop programmed. He wasn’t sure why. It just seemed like the right thing to do. “Execute,” Jeff said, and the Moon was suddenly big and off-center to his left.

“Home Local, this is the armed merchant Dionysus’ Chariot inbound along your trailing Earth orbit. Jeff Singh, Master. Requesting clearance to match velocity to the edge of your controlled space opposite the Moon. I then intend to request docking on the north spindle.”

“Dionysus’ Chariot, we were told to expect you. There is no obstructing traffic. You are clear to decelerate to your requested area at will. This is freaky. I see you on radar and briefly saw your transponder at extreme range at the same time.”

“Thank you, Home Local. I am flipping and braking to match you.” He didn’t really see any point in addressing the controller’s comment. It was still freaky from his side too. There wasn’t much difference in retained velocity from Central to Home, so he slid to a stop with Home outside his right viewport in an easy ten minutes. He called April and advised her to coordinate with Otis and hold any conversation with him until he docked. Clearance to lock three on the north spindle was granted and both normal and anticlimactic.

* * *

Otis and Mackay were at the third lock waiting before April could get there. Both of them looked a little rattled. She hoped they’d lose that before they landed. It wasn’t exactly confidence inspiring.

“You know we only have couches for two?” April asked. They had a third man she didn’t know and a huge pile of cases and bags on a big freight cart. “Gunny wanted to come along too, to guard me not Irwin, but there just isn’t room.”

“Lou is just here to take anything we don’t load back to storage,” Mackay assured her. “We brought everything we could think of and expect to leave some of it.”

April had on the armored tunic she owned. It was older but she’d never bothered to upgrade it and it still offered significant protection. Otis and Mackay had on some sort of semi-rigid armor she’d never seen before.

“What is that stuff you have on? This is ballistic protection,” April said, tugging at the fabric near her hem. “I’ve never seen the stuff you’re wearing advertised.”

“The backing in this is similar to what you are wearing,” Otis explained. “Jeff didn’t mention this to you? It’s a joint project and he bought in on it recently. He’s counting on Heather buying some units too. These are the first copies we just got for evaluation. We had no idea that we’d have an opportunity to test them in the field so quickly.”

“You don’t have a set for Jeff?” April wondered.

“No, sorry, we don’t have a set for you either,” Otis said.

“This is fine for me. I don’t intend to get out there on the pointy end of things,” April assured them. “Jeff shouldn’t either, but you know Jeff. I brought soft armor like this for Jeff because he didn’t take it when he went to the Moon. This stuff goes inside a pressure suit easily enough.” Both of them were bulky even without armor, but April didn’t want to mention that.

“It didn’t seem to us it would be of that much benefit to be well armored inside a regular p-suit that is so easily opened to vacuum. We intend to have a version made that protects against injury and pressure loss.” Otis said.

“Makes sense,” April decided. “You can leave anything that you wouldn’t use in pressure here. You are going to be protecting Irwin against individual agents or nut cases, not any sort of military action. You won’t need anything long-range or explosive munitions. If you blow up buildings or endanger the public we’ve failed because we’re guests. The Foreign Minister informed me that the Prime Minister ordered you to be regarded like embassy security.”

Otis nodded and made a gesture to Lou who started setting things off on the deck to be loaded and leaving other bulkier items on the cart to take back. Everything was in sticky bags and the cart itself tacked to the deck with a sticky strap. April was glad to see a couple of shoulder fired missile launchers with huge bores left behind.

“I got a call back that Irwin will land on the spaceport side of Macron Field,” April said. “They diverted the flight there from the civilian jet port. The crew didn’t like it but they were invited to pick another country to land if they flat out refused. They may just hold him on the field until we set down nearby. We’re not going to be running that far behind their arrival.”

“That’s what Jeff told us,” Otis said, and looked at her funny.

“You didn’t know? Recently I was told rather emphatically this was an open secret. Gunny knew. He never hinted at it?” April demanded.

“Gunny won’t tell you your hair is on fire if it isn’t mission-critical,” Mackay growled.

“I’d find it hard to mention anyone as secretive,” Otis said, looking at her accusingly.

“That’s… courteous,” April decided. People didn’t usually discomfort her so directly.

“Pretty much everybody who can get their own socks on in the morning without help knew that you had a star drive,” Otis admitted. “But we had no idea you could use it to move around inside the system.”

“We couldn’t at first, but like anything we are still improving and developing it,” April said. “We only recently decided there is no point in actively hiding it. If the Earthie governments want to pretend and keep it off the web, hiding from their own people, that’s theirs to decide to do.”

“They’ll make it a legal secret so even if you do know you can’t say so,” Otis agreed.

Otis frowned at the two piles Lou made and retrieved one heavy item from the cart. He didn’t say anything to Lou like he was unhappy. April wondered what it was but didn’t want to seem critical.

The deck vibrated with the bumps and mechanical vibrations of a ship touching the spindle and the grapples latching. The readouts by the lock turned amber and then green.

Jeff came out of the lock looking entirely too cheerful for somebody involved in a serious rescue operation. April immediately thought he’d been buried in mundane business too long. Doing something different ignited that spark in him she hadn’t realized was dulled.

“Oh, very good, you have the protos on the armor already,” He said, checking out the new suits on the security men. “Have you shot anything at them yet?”

“There’s nowhere to do it safely on Home,” Otis said. “Maybe on the Moon when we come back.”

“Or somebody may help you test them on Earth,” Jeff said. April wished he’d shut up. That wasn’t a positive reinforcement that they’d made a good contract. Otis apparently knew that was just Jeff and ignored it.

“Can we load this stuff up? It’s about two hundred kilograms plus both of us.”

“That’s not worth putting in the freight hold. There’s netting on the back bulkhead on the flight deck. Secure them there. Are you going to ride in your armor?” Jeff asked. “I’m suiting back up after I put on the soft armor April is waving at me.”

“Do you expect anybody to be shooting at you?” Otis asked.

“No, but silly me, I never expect strangers to shoot at me,” Jeff said.

“I’ll trust you to evade and not bust it doing something stupid,” Otis said. “It takes longer to get in and out of this than a p-suit. That is, unless you hit the quick release and then it takes even longer.”

Lou started taking the equipment inside even before they finished talking.

“I had them top us off on mass. We’re good on fuel and coffee. I’ll put this on out here where I have more room,” he said taking the tunic.

In zero-g all April had to do was get her toes jammed in a take-hold and pin Jeff’s boot with the other foot. He handed her his helmet and pushed the attached suit top away while he wiggled the tunic down. By the time he was shrugged back into the suit and sealed back up except for his faceplate, Lou was back out and dismissed to take the cart back home.

Jeff made sure the lock was set to admit both security men and gave a perfunctory glance to satisfy himself the luggage was distributed and secured. Then he and April got their hires strapped in. They fit the acceleration couches without removing the cushions, barely. The danger was their arms wouldn’t tuck inside the sides, but they assured Jeff they had commands to lock them in position.

Once they were safely positioned April and Jeff sought their own couches.

* * *

“I’m going to go meet these Home people,” Joel said.

“That will complicate things for all the security involved,” Broutin said.

“I’m under no obligation to make their lives easier,” Joel scowled, “though you’d think so to talk to them. I’m sure our security, the port police, and the national police will all be watching these Home agents and the North American agents if there are any on their plane like they are threats. One hopes they remember to look for external threats.”

“Our security?” Broutin asked.

“Oh please. Tell me you didn’t intend to meet them,” Joel said.

“I certainly will if you are going to meet them,” Broutin said. He didn’t speak to his original intent.

“You just want to meet Miss Lewis,” Pierre accused.

“Absolutely, I doubt I’ll ever have another chance. I’m surprised she’ll set foot on the Earth after all the problems she’s had here before.”

“You should really consider going to Home yourself and getting the full life extension treatment before you are too old and doddering to benefit from it,” Broutin said.

“Are you planning to do that?” the Prime Minister asked. “You are only a decade behind me after all.”

“Yes, if you’d only have the courtesy to lose an election,” Broutin said. “If it looks like you intend to die at your desk I may bow out and resign in another cycle or two. If you wait until everything is as you wish it you will never leave. There will always be a new crisis.”

“And here I thought you were waiting for me to die to have a shot at the job yourself.”

“Now you are just mocking me,” Broutin insisted. “I’d rather open a bistro. Somewhere I could have a private table to the back and entertain interesting people in the evening.”

“The little pirate has a club,” Joel remembered.

“Perhaps that’s where I got the idea,” Boutin admitted.

“You didn’t get a start on some gene mods when you were up there did you?” Joel asked.

“I wish I had, but they keep adding to the prohibited lists and I was scared I’d outlaw myself early by carrying one of the forbidden mods,” Broutin said.

“You always were a cautious one,” Joel said.

Pierre suspected that wasn’t a compliment.

“Do you want to ride over together with me?” Joel invited.

“Our security won’t like us all in one car, so yes, definitely yes,” Pierre agreed.

* * *

“Home Local, the armed merchant Dionysus’ Chariot piloted by Master Jeffery Moses Singh ID number 899-17-1179 assisted by Master April Lewis ID 737-62-4002 with passengers request clearance to undock your north spindle and leave your controlled volume. Please be aware we are filing an unusual flight plan. We intend to transition at your control limit to uncontrolled translunar space, make a burn to acquire velocity sufficient to make a reverse transition to a tangential insertion in LEO adjusted for axial tilt and below orbital velocity for the emergent altitude. We will be making a descending approach from the east southeast entering controlled airspace over France and landing on the spaceport side of Macron Field. Please copy as filed to Central, Armstrong and Earth Control.”

“Dionysus’ Chariot, please hold ten minutes for inbound traffic to the south spindle. Forester’s Ferry anticipates docked and clear by 15:25 Zulu. Can you adjust or do you need to refile?”

“Local Home, we shall adjust our first transition and burn while in uncontrolled space to match the first filing with the same arrival time,” Jeff promised, punching the change in the computer while he was still speaking. Nobody said anything for several minutes.

“Dionysus’ Chariot, be advised Earth Control declines to release on your filed flight profile. Their members are protesting it is not physically possible. Your filed final approach is across disputed areas of Iran and Turkey. We can not guarantee the local authorities will not launch on uncleared traffic even above their controlled airspace in the absence of their positive assent back to Earth Control.”

“Thank you, Local Home. I certainly can’t ask them to guarantee what the Turks or Persians will do, and I totally acknowledge that. I do however intend to fly it as filed. Please copy the objecting members via Earth Control that I can’t guarantee it won’t rain thermonuclear weapons from their sky if some excitable fellow shoots at me.”

There was snickering from the back. Jeff ignored it.

“Uh, Dionysus’ Chariot, we relayed the recording of that so they have it verbatim. You are cleared of Home control per your filed plan at 15:15 Zulu. Be careful out there.”

* * *

After a lengthy burn, Ceres slid into view beside them. It didn’t look all that different than the Moon except the scale of the craters made obvious it was smaller and had not had the cataclysmic collisions Luna experienced. Laja was interested but not overwhelmed.

Deloris said what she was doing establishing an orbit, but wasn’t excessively chatty.

“We’ll have a chat, snack, sleep period, and set down tomorrow,” Deloris said. “Last time we were here I didn’t sleep well at all on the surface. There was just enough pull to give me odd sensations my sleeping brain interpreted weirdly.” She retrieved a tray of bite-size snacks from the galley and made it adhere where they could all reach it.

“Now, about assigning you some duties,” Deloris said. “I have no detailed orders from Heather, but she wishes you to gain skills, not just be a tourist.”

Laja perked up but didn’t start pleading her case.

“How much vacuum time do you have accumulated?”

“Three thousand three hundred seventeen point four hours in vacuum, and six hundred seventeen hours in the suit but in pressure,” Laja said consulting her spex.

When Deloris just blinked at her Laja went on. “My suit meter automatically senses if I’m in pressure and logs it separately.”

“Have you started Life Extension Therapy?” Deloris asked. “You don’t look old enough to have that many hours.”

“Wait,” Deloris said sharply, lifting a forestalling hand before Laja could reply. “That sounds like I’m calling you a liar. I’m not and don’t want… conflict with you. I’m just trying to understand how it can be possible.”

“No, I have no LET. The main thing is I started doing supervised vacuum work when I was eleven. I learned to drive rovers, do survey work, and boreholes. My mom didn’t let me put charges in them until I was fourteen. I’m almost seventeen and I still haven’t run a tunnel boring machine,” Laja said, like that still was a sore point with her.

“Were you a big eleven-year-old?” Deloris wondered. “How did you fit the suit? Or did you have one custom made and carry your hours over?”

“This is my third set of arms, and my second set of legs. My legs were already getting a growth spurt at eleven. Mom bought me the smallest torso they made and it’s still not tight on me. It used to be awkward to walk in. If the legs were short enough to push my shoulders against the pads the crouch was like half-way to my knees and I had to have a double pad behind my butt in order to be able to sit down. It took a couple of years to grow into it to be able to walk fast with big steps.

“I know most folks won’t let a child wear a suit with accessible controls and fasteners until they are twelve. I was very serious and mature. The family needed the help, and girls mature faster. My cousin wasn’t allowed in a suit that wasn’t slaved to somebody else’s control and the closures keyed or zipped until he was almost fifteen.”

She gave Barak a challenging look.

“No argument,” he said, showing his palms in surrender.

“I believe I will risk allowing Barak to take you out on these minor planets,” Deloris decided. “They will have less gravity than you are used to. Barak has experience on even smaller bodies, where the gravitation was more of a hindrance than just being weightless. If he finds too much to do to instruct you or watch you as closely as needed he may choose to go out solo. Don’t take that as criticism.”

“Do you set a watch?” Laja wondered. Deloris noted she didn’t frame it as “Don’t you set a watch?” Neither did she volunteer to sit a watch.

“It has not been our custom even with a crew of four,” Deloris told her. “If there seemed a hazard or an environment poorly understood I might. Given the small volume of the cabin, we wear suits maneuvering and on duty. A fairly small breach would drop us below breathable pressure faster than you could get in your suit. But they are optional in your sleep period. You are simply trading trusting the cabin integrity for trusting your suit.”

“True, but I know my suit and maintain it,” Laja said. “I don’t have the knowledge to feel safe trusting the ship integrity when I could add another layer of protection.”

“You can suit back up to sleep if you like,” Deloris allowed. “The ship was designed by Jeff Singh with the idea he’d be using it himself. That’s about the best recommendation I can make for its integrity. You may come to trust it more with familiarity.

“Our tours are too long to stay buttoned up start to finish and we clean up when we go off duty. I hope you are not body shy. We don’t have the means to accommodate that. It would take a contortionist to clean up in the toilet and change in there. It hasn’t been a problem because we four are all family. You can string an elastic tube hammock like we’ll use or grapple your suit to a take-hold to sleep,” Deloris invited.

“My family hasn’t had the luxury of much private space until quite recently,” Laja said. “Nor much in the way of comforts like soft furniture or decorations. My mom compared it to pioneers living in a log cabin. I slept on a king-size air mattress with five other kids until I was ten. We all had one toilet and shower to share and our clothes and personal stuff were all in duffle bags. I can’t tell you how tickled I was to get not only a tiny room but a rug too.”

“I grew up spoiled,” Barak volunteered. “My mom has a huge cubic on Home and I had my own room with carpeted walls and a private com desk. Our common area was a big open room with viewports and a low overhead area to grow tomatoes and herbs. We had a full kitchen and a table to sit everybody at once and guests.”

“And your sister became the sovereign,” Laja remarked.

“Not that she aspired to that,” Barak said. “Have you ever heard the story about how she started taking oaths?”

“No, that was before we came up from Earth,” Laja said. “Nobody has told me much about before we bought in. Mom hasn’t included it in my schooling so far.”

“Then that’s another long story to tell in detail later,” Barak said. “As well as more details about our voyage from hell of which you only got the barest outline of so far. Be assured, I don’t get much in the way of special treatment. Don’t think for a minute it intrudes on the command structure.”

“You aren’t as old as she is, are you?” Laja asked Barak. She was obviously trying to figure out the social dynamics that were much more complicated than the command structure.

“No, Deloris obviously has life extension work. Nobody her apparent age would have command authority. All of my partners are physically older than me and more experienced. I defer to the ladies in social things too. Kurt pretty much follows the same rule.” Barack hoped Laja would take that as a hint to direct social questions to Deloris.

“After you advised him to do so,” Deloris reminded him.

“I do occasionally have something to contribute,” Barak admitted.

They all cleaned up with wipes and got fresh suit liners. The dirty ones went in the vacuum cleaner to be pumped down and tumbled clean. Laja might not be shy but she did turn her back to clean up and didn’t intrude on their baths. When they climbed in their tube she got back in her suit and clipped on to a take-hold so she didn’t drift.

Barak was mildly uncomfortable with a stranger aboard even if they had agreed to it. After all, he worked with other people on the Moon. Heather kept them busy when they weren’t flying. He’d just gotten used to crew and family being the same very quickly. There was a nagging worry that Alice and Deloris might want to expand the family to Laja and where would that end with a long program of recruitments? That was more worrying because he’d delegated those sorts of decisions to the ladies and would have to live with it.

He hadn’t thought of all these questions back on the Moon with Alice and Kurt. Now was an awkward time to bring them up. He couldn’t even speak privately with Deloris until he had spex or a suit on. He had no idea if Laja used helmet talk. He hadn’t seen her use it. He’d have to find that out before they went EV tomorrow. If she didn’t know it that was just one more thing he had to teach her.

He wondered if the times it was just the four of them flying together was something he’d look back on fondly, and never experience again? But maybe they could form a company and work for themselves. It just depended on what they found out in the stars. So far there hadn’t been anywhere you could actually live, or resources any better than you could still find inside the solar system. But Jeff seemed very optimistic and he was uncommonly smart. If they didn’t find anything he thought his time was still well spent.

Just about the time he was wishing he had an electronic sleep inducer to quiet his racing mind, Deloris gave him a poke in the ribs. Her nose was over his shoulder from behind and she could easily speak low to his ear.

“Relax,” she ordered. “You are stiff as a board and I suspect you are being stupid. Everything is just fine. If you don’t relax I swear I’ll go get my Taser and zap you limp.”

When he stifled a giggle she knew that was just what he’d needed. It wasn’t long before his breathing slowed and he curled slightly in the zero-g.

* * *

At 15:15 Jeff gently pushed them off the spindle with thrusters and gave a very brief burp of the main drive when they were pointed safely away from Home. At a kilometer away and a little bit to make sure nobody complained he was shaving it too close to the local traffic zone he reminded his passengers to make their arms safe. He was going to do a one-g plus burn to get up to the proper velocity he’d need emerging in LEO. That was adjusted up a little to make up the time they waited for traffic. The Moon slid by with increasing speed on their left and the Earth emerged from behind it.

Otis and Mackay were talking low in the back. Jeff only caught an occasional word.

“You guys might like to look over at the Earth and the Moon,” Jeff suggested. “The first time I did this I was oblivious and didn’t even know it had happened. I was trying to figure out where my drones went and didn’t even look up through the viewports. Jump is coming up in thirty seconds. Get a couple blinks in or you can be looking at your eyelids when it happens and miss it.”

The twin crescents of the Moon and Earth vanished and the sun didn’t shift location enough to notice.

“Just out of curiosity, how do you know it’s the same universe?” Otis asked.

Jeff didn’t say anything for a long time.

“Sorry if that was a stupid question,” Otis said after the pause was embarrassing.

“I’m thinking. There is nothing in the math to address that. I simply can’t answer the question that poses. Now, if we went to a universe that is so similar to ours that another ship with analogs of ourselves made the same transition and is now in our universe, then how would I ever know? In that case, I’m not sure it would even matter.

“If however, we went to a completely different universe our friends back on Home might be upset we vanished like the Pedro Escobar,” Jeff speculated.

“If there really are different universes I would think they would be ordered by similarity,” April said.

“On what could you possibly base that?” Jeff asked.

“Things should make sense,” April insisted. “If they don’t, there’s no point to anything. It wouldn’t even be worth trying to figure things out any better. Why would our universe make sense with rules that make things like this ship work among other universes that are chaotic and useless?”

“I don’t know. I doubt I’ll ever get an overview to see either,” Jeff said. “I think you just invented a religion, that the universe must make some kind of sense as its basic tenet and if it doesn’t it’s our lack of understanding.

“I find that strangely compelling,” Mackay said. “It’s too simple and undemanding to label a religion, but I think it makes a decent philosophy.”

“Well, it has one step to go and I’ll find it compelling too,” Jeff said.

“What’s that?” Mackay wondered.

“April just had to say it was obvious. I have yet to see anything fail to verify once that has been declared.”

“Not yet,” April said. “But I’m leaning that way.”

Chapter 20

“They changed Hringhorni’s thrusters for us,” Deloris said as she descended with a very light touch on the controls. “Actually, installed a second set in parallel. Eventually, they will update those on Dionysus’ Chariot too. When Jeff tried to land on Phobos with the Chariot the front and rear thrusters were not capable of being set to very small precise values. The side thrusters used to turn it were fine. Those are used to rotate the ship to take and hold a star shot and have to be very accurate. The original front and rear thrusters were meant for pushing the ship safely away from dock and maneuvering to grapple the nose. He had to fire them back and forth until he found two in sequence that didn’t quite match in the direction he wanted to go.”

“I don’t think it would have occurred to me to use the variations between individual firings that way,” Laja admitted.

“Oh I might have,” Deloris laughed, “about a month later maybe. Jeff saw the problem and solution as soon as his minimum breaking burn lifted him instead of just slowing him.”

“What are we going to do here?” Laja asked.

“Ceres was kind of a failure in the first round. We should have taken some bore samples and not left the tracked French mill. That’s what they call the atomic separator,” she added if Laja didn’t know. “The mill with legs got a fair yield of silver, but not enough to leave it in place. It was instructed to walk over to the other mill for pickup. The tracked one reported back after a week that it wasn’t getting any significant yields of metals. It’s not too bad for some things like sulfur, but you have to process so much material it can be found elsewhere easier. What it does have is lots and lots of carbon. It’s rich in both organic compounds and even substantial amounts of elemental carbon. Unfortunately, French mills are not efficient at processing feedstock with a super abundance of one element. That’s strike one. Ceres seems to be about twenty percent carbon on the surface.

“Strike two is that it isn’t at all like regolith. It’s more like clay slush. It’s rather slick and soft in random patches. The tracks kept getting mired and the yield telemetry reported was crappy so they sent a radio command back to shut down until we could retrieve it. Mo or Jeff or somebody will have to design a machine with a hull like a sled that can slide over the surface and is purpose-built to separate carbon. That carbon is going to fill a lot of tunnels on the Moon once they do get it working. It will be cabbages and cucumbers in a couple of years.”

“Is this confidential?” Laja asked. “My mother needs to know about this.

“We don’t have a lot of rules about what is secret and not,” Deloris said. “Heather expects us to have some sense about what would be damaging to her and to our own employment if we discuss it publicly. It’s not like any of us have ties to Earthies or even speak with Earthies. My guess is she just hasn’t seen any reason to make announcements about what we are collecting yet. She’ll worry about that when it is actually in hand to sell and deliver. I’m sure she’ll be delighted to have your mom as a customer.

“I’m setting down a hundred meters from the tracked mill. I’m afraid the exhaust plume may damage them any closer and Heather would not be amused. The plan is to take the legged one to Haumea. We are actually not mining Haumea but a much smaller body orbiting it. It’s not visible from Earth and if anybody argues Heather will say she’s claiming Haumea and associated bodies like its moons. Eventually, we’re going to have a harvester made just for Haumea to gather frozen nitrogen. Having a safe alternative to skimming Earth atmosphere just makes sense. Just like a carbon harvester for Ceres. We were going to put French mills on Eris and Makemake but brought them back unused. We’re still going to go back and refuel the claim radios, because Heather figures that much stuff will be valuable eventually, but not this trip.”

“What did you do with the mills you brought back?” Laja asked her.

“They got installed in lunar craters to process regolith. We may eventually haul some back out here if we can figure out where to put them. The Hringhorni has landing pads but they aren’t really suited for very small bodies. Jeff is promising to design a sort of spike or harpoon we can shoot into an ice ball or asteroid and then grapple on it. Barak is all for that because he doesn’t want to mount engines like we did before.”

“Everybody agrees we don’t have enough experience or resources to try dealing with Titan. The Earthies would have a fit if we land on Europa because they have some insane idea we might contaminate it. Ganymede is a real possibility but again, such a well known major moon the Earthies may make it more trouble than it is worth. We’ll have to quietly land there sometime soon and do core samples and stuff to see if it is even worth arguing with the Earthies about mining it.”

“It’s cheap to maintain our claims on what we tagged, and the longer we go without challenge the firmer our ownership. Barak thinks we will find stuff around other stars worth far more than here in the solar system. I personally feel it will be more efficient to go for really small bodies. Stuff small enough to push home or drag along in our jump field. We’re building an artificial moon around Mars and we can take them there and break them up and process them.”

You can do that?” Laja asked, amazed.

“Within limits,” Deloris said. “You can’t sit on the Moon and jump expecting to drag it along. April was actually worried about that at first.”

“Excuse me for saying so,” Laja said, carefully, “but so far claiming and mining these minor planets sounds like it has been a bust.”

“Yeah, but we’re learning a lot. We’ll apply that to what we find around other stars. We’ll have plans for all sorts of specialized mining machines. Just the carbon from Ceres will be a nice payday in a couple of years. We will make something even if our share is just pocket money for now,” Deloris said. “With life extension, we can afford to hope it will all work out in good time. Jeff promised us one percent. If we find one decent star system our fortunes will be made.”

Laja’s mother had explained to her in detail why she was piling up tunnel boring debris rather than give it away for free fill. She’d actually paid attention to her mom’s economics lecture. She said nothing at Deloris’ revelation and managed to stifle a visible reaction. One percent of everything around any star would be more wealth than any Earth nation had ever controlled. At that scale, even a system of dry barren rocks was valuable given the newest tech to separate it element by element. She’d jump at any chance to get a similar deal.

“There, I think I am down. Give it a second to make sure it doesn’t rebound.”

“No bounce,” Barak said after a minute. “When we go out I’ll look and make sure you didn’t push the pads under the surface. I’ll shovel them off if we have mud on top.”

“Would that be bad?” Laja wondered.

“A big glob stuck on a pad could throw our center of mass off,” Barak said, “and it could come loose at a very bad time and get flung who knows where? If you need to use the toilet, now is the time before we go out.”

* * *

Elaine sat at the table with her hands around a mug of herbal tea, looking out the window at the blowing snow. None of them had been out of the house for three days. The living room was shuttered and blocked off with a doubled over tarp so their world was shrunk to the kitchen and bathroom. The doors to the bedrooms were shut and the shutters closed in those rooms too so they were dark. They had the table pulled away from the corner and camp beds along two walls in the kitchen. They missed the privacy but trying to heat the entire ranch house in the depth of winter would use too much wood. Making sure they still had wood in the spring was an actual matter of survival.

“When we lived in LA and I was a space nut I followed everything I could about the habitats and the Moon,” Eileen told Vic. “There are cameras all over Home and ISSII, not so much the Moon. I don’t think I am going to change my mind about emigrating, but I wish I had some idea what is going on out there.”

“You can use the sat phone to read news articles,” Vic suggested. “Don’t forget you can get foreign access you couldn’t from local providers. I don’t mind spending a little bit. We have a base fee to cover even if we didn’t use it at all.”

“Maybe I will then,” Eileen said. “The screen is way too small to look at any of the cams though. I wish I could show you where I want to live.”

“Read the manual Cal sent us,” Vic said. “I think you can use it as a modem and cast the image to a bigger screen.”

“We’d never charge a battery up enough to run the big computer on your desk. I see you have backup power for that, but it’s a huge battery,” Eileen objected. “It has to be dead flat by now and might not even take a charge. Our solar charger only gets a couple of hours of sun at the kitchen window and we need that for the phone and lights.”

“Let me think on that,” Vic said. “I can be pretty handy if I put my mind to it.”

Eileen whispered something in his ear and he laughed. Alice looked up and raised her eyebrows, but they both ignored her until she went back to her book.

* * *

Jeff rotated Dionysus’ Chariot so the twin globes of the Earth and Moon came back into view. From this angle, both were illuminated to the same side about half-way with the terminator directly facing them. Otis and Mackay in the back looking over the command seat didn’t say anything, but they were so far away the Earth and Moon looked tiny. Both could be seen through the circle of one’s thumb and forefinger held out at arm’s length and Otis lifted his arm and did that very thing. Neither of them ever expected to see them from so far away and it had an unexpected emotional impact.

“We’ll appear in Low Earth Orbit retrograde, but actually below orbital velocity,” Jeff said. “We’ll brake a little harder and at a steeper angle due to the hold at Home, but nothing too uncomfortable. I’m not sure we can get Earth Traffic Control on the radio from here. We just have a standard twenty-five watt transceiver. I’ll call as soon as we are closer. We’ll be under the relay satellites so our exhaust won’t interfere. Get your arms back in a safe position and locked,” he reminded them.

“Number two, please put your board in weapons mode and watch for any foolish actions by their dissenting traffic partners. You are weapons-free and I suggest you use orbital assets rather than onboard systems.”

“How strongly do you wish me to respond?” April demanded.

“If they simply paint us with targeting radar ignore it. I doubt either of them have beam weapons. If they launch on us remove the launch sites thoroughly. Suppress any defenses until you can lay a large weapon on them and not waste it. Lay the commands in all at once because I feel we can jump back out safely from as high as we’ll be passing them. I should have plenty of time to do so after you inform me you are done inputting commands and before any missile could climb to us.”

“Aye,” April said. Her monitor expanded from ship controls to show the globe below them overlaid with icons of available rods and larger weapons. It made her momentarily uncomfortable to know their passengers could see the screen and even record it with their spex, but she suppressed that as unworthy. They were allies and dependable. Also, it wasn’t like they’d see the launch codes on the screen in the clear.

Jeff didn’t warn them again like the first transition. Suddenly they were looking at the curved horizon of blue and clouds and black above. They immediately rolled over so the black disappeared and the Earth rolled past their viewports until the scene was reversed. There were a few patches showing coastlines and brown but nothing of recognizable outlines like a map. They immediately braked hard and started slowly rotating tail down.

“Earth Control, Dionysus’ Chariot in descent for Macron Field, France. I know this is an unauthorized maneuver but they are expecting us and you can give them a courtesy traffic advisory if you would, please.”

“Dionysus’ Chariot, the entire net is advised of you as traffic to be avoided, authorized or not. We’d give collision avoidance for a close passing asteroid too. We advise you the French DO would just hand you off to Macron approach direct as they only pass along shuttles that have an extended glide path. Call Macron 121.15 directly for a vertical approach.”

“Thank you, Earth Control,” Jeff said tapping his screen. “We will contact Macron Control on approaching twenty-five kilometers altitude.”

“We are past where either the Turks or Persians have sufficient lead time to launch on us,” April advised Jeff. “I doubt any of the Balkans care and we’ll briefly overfly Italy in the north but I’d seriously be surprised if they will object.”

“Macron Control, this is Dionysus’ Chariot of Central Registry, Jeffery Singh master.” He diplomatically skipped their custom of identifying as an armed merchant. “We are on approach from suborbital insertion and will pass north of Sainte-Marie-la-Blanche in about five minutes. We will enter your controlled airspace from the east southeast about fifty kilometers out. May we have clearance and an assigned spot for vertical descent to your apron, please?”

“Dionysus’ Chariot, please squawk seven nine five three. English ATIS is 127.12. You are cleared straight in vertical below ten kilometers. Your visual approach target is a standard X-circle at 49.052266 and 2.610043. Advise 125.32 you when you are in vertical descent. If you can, minimize your transonic approach please.”

“April check ATIS and see if there is anything I should know. I’m altering our approach profile to go subsonic higher. I never think about that.”

“Wind is from the northwest at 10 kph with no significant gusts. Cloud cover at two thousand meters. Well crap, it is raining,” April said. “I didn’t bring an umbrella.”

* * *

Barak and Laja didn’t go through a final suit check quite yet. Barak got in the equipment lockers and got some extra equipment.

“The landing pad below our lock has fold-down panels on each side to give us a sort of deck off which we can work,” Barak explained. “Since it has more area it’s less likely it will be pushed below the surface. But I’m bringing the shovel along in case I need to clear the others.” The shovel looked decidedly fragile, but Laja assumed it was of high strength materials. The business end swiveled and locked to give you a choice of square or pointed blades.

“If the smaller pads sank very far we’d know because we’d be tilted off the vertical.”

“That’s true,” Barak agreed, “and if it was that soft Deloris would probably have moved us off to a different location for fear it would keep sinking.”

“What are those?” Laja asked as he pulled out what looked like miniature canoes in a silvery metal. They were more like long skates than short skis.

Laja had some doubts about them but kept it to herself.

“These are to let you slide across the soft spots and slick surface,” Barak said proudly. “They’re my own invention. They aren’t exactly snowshoes or skis and are rather specialized. As their inventor, I have named them sliders. Notice the texture on the bottom. They are like cross country skis or Moon boots and slide forward easily and resist slipping back when you push forward.”

“You have poles too?” Laja asked.

“Of course.” Barak reached in the back of the cabinet and produced them. “We have these too.” He produced a thruster harness similar to the old fashioned rig construction workers used to wear over their suits. It had over-the-shoulder straps and a belt with a single strap that passed between the legs. By adjusting both you could position the front and back nozzles on the belt close to your center of mass.

“Notice that you can tilt the nozzles up so they push you down firmly into the surface. The gravity being so weak, that’s the only way you will get enough traction to push on anything. And in the horizontal mode at low power they can push you along. At least that’s my theory,” Barak said.

“You realize if you get a few people stationed out here long term it isn’t going to be long at all before they are racing with these things?” Laja asked him.

“That may be, but we don’t want to test that today,” Barak said firmly. “The French mill with tracks is only about forty meters away. The walker was further out but will come right up and all we have to do is hook it to the crane. Deloris set us down really close. So this shouldn’t be too hard. We have as much time as we need.”

“Not us, I mean crazy people, teenage boys for sure will race on them,” Laja agreed. “The trick will be not to fly off at a tangent and orbit.” She gently flapped it away from her by the shoulder straps to stretch it out straight so she could wiggle into the thruster harness. “You know, these look kind of kinky,” she muttered.

She didn’t really ask Barak anything, so he found it easy to ignore her.

* * *

April didn’t need an umbrella. They were provided. What was even more surprising was she didn’t need to hang out the ladder they carried for a vertical landing. Jeff dropped them exactly on the X as a matter of pride. Their exhaust raised a cloud of blown water and steam from the tarmac. When it cleared an odd vehicle lumbered up to them. It was one of the bucket trucks the port kept for servicing lights and building exteriors. It lifted a rectangular work basket that could hold all four of them comfortably and drop them to the ground level. There was even a little gate so they didn’t have to climb in. The umbrellas were hanging over the gate.

Pierre Broutin and Irwin were standing with a slightly older fellow who must be the Prime Minister, Joel Durand. They had guards holding umbrellas and a second row of other officials behind the guards with uniformed officers. Behind them all April noticed there were other guards and uniformed police facing away from them, surveying the hangers and a few other planes and shuttles. It seemed a little overkill. Uniformed men took their umbrellas and sheltered them as soon as they stepped out of the bucket. It bothered April that the men holding their umbrellas were exposed.

Jeff suggested Otis and Mackay wait to unload their baggage until later since a lot of it suggested weapons just by their shape. He promised they would arrange it but he and April took the small soft bag each had along. They were pretty sure they would be offered overnight hospitality and if not they were easy to take back.

By the time they reached the ground, there was a line of barricades with bright yellow and black strips extended around their ship. Outside those barriers were three armored vehicles. April wasn’t sure what you’d call them, they weren’t your classic tank with a turret and cannon on top, but they had road tracks with rubber cleats, sloped fronts and helmeted soldiers on top manning an open turret with a stubby weapon that looked formidable. The critical component to it all as far as April was concerned was that the guns were pointed out away from their ship. There were extra barricades and another vehicle she assumed would be moved into the gap when their reception committee left.

Broutin introduced the Prime Minister and Jeff was a little shocked and stiffened for an instant when Joel took him firmly by the shoulders and kissed him on both cheeks. He managed to recover in time to turn his head and lean into the second peck and reach up to mirror his loose embrace.

April knew Joel for a bit of a fan, romanticizing her role in the rebellion. Seeing her as a throw-back to a simpler age he found more attractive than his own. Knowing that, she didn’t allow the formal stand-off embrace with hands on shoulders. She stepped inside that to hug him closely. It obviously delighted him and while she was close April thanked him quietly for helping her friend Irwin.

“I was happy to,” Joel said. “They obviously delight in framing mischief by decree. Who exactly is harmed by the coins in a distressed traveler’s pocket? I assure you that won’t happen in France. Now, you’ve come a long way, surely you can accept our hospitality for at least a night. Your friend Irwin declined to stay as an official guest. I suspect in his mind more to protect us than him. So he is invited to stay at a local hotel as our guest. He objected but I insisted on that much at least. Will you stay the night in my official residence or do you see a need to stay separately as he did?”

“We’d be happy to accept your hospitality, but we also need to install our security people with Irwin,” April said, inclining her head to Otis and Mackay. “I’m not at all sure he will agree to come back to Home just yet. He has unfinished business in Europe he may insist on finishing. So they will remain with him. We need to speak to him about that tomorrow. Can you have your security help them retrieve their equipment from our shuttle and find rooms near Irwin or install them all in a suite? Notice they have Tasers if that requires any special permission.”

“I will tell my people to aid them and allow them to be the first tier of defense in case they are jealous of their jurisdictions. They will be deputized to bear arms at need. He will join us and you can speak with him tonight if you don’t mind talking business after dinner. Our own security can watch their rooms so I can have the pleasure of all of you for dinner.”

“I’m afraid I didn’t bring very formal wear,” April said.

“Bah, no need to make it a stuffy affair. I shall forgo formal attire to set the standard,” Joel said. “I may even prevail upon Pierre to forgo a tie.”

“If you insist, I’d hate to outshine you at your own affair,” Pierre said with a smile.

“See what insolence I get constantly?” Joel said.

“What happened to the North Americans who delivered Irwin?” April wondered, looking around like the plane might still be in sight.

“They are off somewhere being refueled,” Joel said with an indefinite wave. “You don’t really have any need of them, do you? No packet of papers or anything to be returned with them to their government?”

“No. I was just curious. Their agent in trade for Irwin is being sent to WHOOPS. The Larkin shuttles travel a little slower than we do.”

“So I understand,” Joel said lifting his eyebrows. “Come, let’s get out of the rain and let these fellows close their perimeter and help your men. These fellows get all twitchy the longer I stand in one place. They imagine assassins are rushing to any public appearance from kilometers away.”

“You are probably in more danger from standing next to us,” April said. “I’ve never heard anyone say a harsh word about you.”

“You flatter me, but I’ll accept it,” Joel said, handing her into the limo first.

* * *

“What you been reading?” Alice asked Vic after he turned the phone off.

Eileen didn’t put her book down but listened carefully. She wondered what Vic had been studying so intently too. He was taking quite a few notes in a Moleskine journal he used for important observations about planting and daily weather. He kept a record of their mining area and where they had success and found concentrations and larger nuggets. So it wasn’t just a casual interest whatever it was.

“The fellow who is going to bring us fertile eggs and hopefully establish our own chicken flock had us bring him some old fashioned thermometers from Nevada.”

Alice nodded her head yes. Vic hadn’t been sure she even knew what one looked like.

“We had an old tin advertising sign on the back porch with a glass thermometer in it,” she said. “Mom said it was an antique. It had red stuff in the glass.”

“That’s similar to what we have now, but the chicken guy had electronic thermometers. Before we got him new ones he jury-rigged some homemade batteries to run them with pieces of metal for electrodes hanging in electrolyte in old food jars. I’m trying to see if I could make something similar but better. Eileen would like to use a bigger monitor than the little screen on the sat phone and it would take more power than what he cobbled together. All he had to replace was a little button battery.”

“That’s shiny. I didn’t know you could make batteries without like a big factory,” she said, showing with a double-handed gesture how big she thought it would be. “Are you going to make it run the big monitor on your desk?”

“That’s a little bit more than I think I can make work,” Vic admitted. “We have a tablet though that I think I can charge up,” Vic said, showing with his hands how big it was. “If it won’t charge up it may be within the capacity of the batteries to just run it directly.”

“So will you have jars with metal hanging in them? I can picture that.”

“Not exactly, I don’t have much copper around the ranch and even if I could make the cells, the individual batteries, big enough I think it would eat up the metal too fast. But I have been reading about batteries that use one metal and air instead of two kinds of metal. You can use iron and I have a whole lot of rebar leftover from doing concrete work and other pieces of angle iron and bars to last a long time. I’ll try it tomorrow.”

“If you say so, I don’t know much about that kind of science stuff,” Alice admitted.

“I hadn’t thought, but you aren’t getting any schooling at all. That’s something we need to correct,” Vic decided.

“Hey, I’ve read a whole bunch of your books and I’m learning stuff from them.”

“Yes, but I’ve seen which ones. Fiction isn’t always accurate about things. You need some real history. Some stuff like Mark Twain you need to know the real history to be able to understand it.”

“Eileen has been teaching me stuff too,” Alice protested. “I’ve learned how to sew a little and cook much better than before. Of course, it helps to have something to cook.”

Alice had that worried look that said she was afraid Vic was going to make her do all kinds of things she really didn’t want to do.

“I’m sure we can find lots you want to know and will enjoy,” Vic said. “When I make these batteries I’ll show you how to use my hand tools. That’s something everybody should know. I have bicycles ordered we’ll get in the spring and if they need to be worked on all of us should be capable of doing that. When we start planting in the spring we will show you what we are doing and explain why. Raising food is something else everybody better know how to do now.”

“You ordered a bicycle for me too?” Alice asked, stunned.

“Yes, if we have to travel, like back from the spring fair or to the fall festival do you think you could run all that way and keep up with us?”

“No, but I didn’t know you were getting bikes either.”

“We arranged that in Nevada,” Vic said, “and I added an order for you to Cal in text on the phone. So you wouldn’t have heard, but I didn’t really mean it to be a secret.”

“There’s something else you are going to have to teach me,” Alice said.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t know how to ride a bike.”

Chapter 21

The walking mill was still approaching when they opened the lock. Like and ungainly insect it didn’t move a new leg until it sensed the other was touching ground. In the weak gravity it moved in slow motion that was exasperating to watch and wait on.

Deloris opened the hold hatch on the deck below them and deployed the crane out the opening remotely from the bridge. Given the weak gravity Barak didn’t use any of the take holds on the outside to lower himself. He just stepped out and easily landed in a crouch. At about three percent g it was easy to look like a gymnast acing a landing. It took a half minute to fall fifteen meters and he was going less than a meter a second.

“Drop our stuff to me,” Barak said. He grabbed them and placed them carefully on the extended flanges of the landing pad.

Laja was more cautious. It still looked like a big drop to the way her brain was trained. She stepped off but reached out and grabbed the crane cable as she passed and let it drag through her glove.

Barack hooked the cable to the walking mill once Laja was clear and rode it up with one hand around the cable. The walker was far lighter than the tracked machine and once it was in the hold he again just stepped off and landed easily beside Laja. She followed his example and inserted her boots in the toe cup of the slider and pulled a strap across them.

“You go ahead of me,” Barak said. “I want to keep an eye on you and help you if you have any trouble with the sliders. I’ll be behind you but to your right so when we try the thruster you won’t be right in my path.”

“Alright,” Laja agreed. She turned with tiny steps to aim at the machine. She leaned forward and slowly crouched before pushing into the ground behind her with the poles. She went forward but still came off the ground for about three meters. Fortunately she had good balance and landed evenly. It was slow going, and hard to make every motion gentle and controlled. It just looked stupid too.

“We need long telescoping poles,” she immediately decided. “The angle you push should be almost parallel to the ground so you don’t lift.”

“Good idea,” Barak commended her. “I’ll have them fabricated before our next visit.”

Laja managed to stay in contact with her next shove, but it was going to be really slow. She looked up at the machine and then back at the ship. It might take ten or fifteen minutes to get to the machine. Barak hadn’t come along with her at all. He was still standing just barely off the landing pad.

“Are you going to come along? Laja asked him.

“I’ll let you get a little bit ahead. I want to try pushing with the suit thruster.”

“You better lean forward a little or tilt it up a hair. It’s really easy to lift off the surface,” she warned.

“I think leaning will be enough. I’ll give as short of a burn as I can and try to just catch up with you,” Barak said.

Laja could see him lean forward, poles behind him off the ground. He used his helmet controls to fire a short burst. The exhaust wasn’t visible at all. He moved forward sharply and let off quickly enough. However, his right slider seemed to be pointed off to his right from the left one. As he passed her he was doing a slow-motion split and his forward lean was increasing. About three meters past her the split widened until the sliders went sideways and the sideways drag of them threw him forward.

“Oh, oh, oh… Oh crap, I’m past my balance point,” Barak had plenty of time to say and he pitched forward in slow motion. He crossed his arms in front of him and managed to keep his helmet and gloves up out of the slime. The front of his suit and arms back to his elbows were all smeared though. On the plus side the whole movement took him two-thirds of the way to the machine.

“I’m coming,” Laja called. “Don’t try to get up yet.”

It took her five minutes to reach him.

“Are you hurt?”She worried when she pulled up beside him.

“I may be a little sore later. I don’t think I’ve done a split like this since I was about eleven years old. Once the slider was running straight it just went off with a mind of its own. I should have turned the fronts towards each other so they’d run together.”

“Is that what you did before?” Laja asked.

“This is the first time we’ve tried them,” Barak admitted.

Laja just looked at him, put out.

“What is this… stuff?” Laja demanded. “Plain old regolith on the Moon is bad enough, and even being dry it can cling nearly as badly from static, but this is nasty.”

“It’s liquid ammonia with a bunch of organic garbage dissolved in it and basically clay. There are a bunch of gritty silicates and water ice mixed in it too. I suppose somebody will figure out uses for it if people ever live out here but it isn’t worth hauling home.

“I’m going to push off with my arms and see if I can get back vertical without pushing off the surface or flipping on my back.”

“Why don’t you plant a pole right in front of you and lift yourself up it hand over hand? It seems to me that would be a lot more controllable,” Laja advised.

“That might work. It’s a good thing they are on lanyards.” Barak levered himself up enough on his left arm to get his right hand pole out from under him. In the light gravity, he worked his way up the pole with both hands until he could drag his right slider back in and get some weight back on top of it. Lifting himself on both poles he got the sliders both back together under him.

“I’m going to skip the thrusters until we have some way to steer better,” Barak said.

“Do you need to go back?” Laja asked. “Don’t risk yourself.”

“No, no. I just stretched a few things further than they enjoyed. Let’s go on.”

Going even slower, they arrived at the machine. The side facing the shuttle was caked with slime thrown up by their exhaust.

“The splattered stuff is lighter in color because our exhaust dug up water and melted it. You have detectable water vapor at the surface because it is constantly sublimating,” Barak said. “As hard as it is to move around, it still might have been easier to sit down further away to avoid coating it like this,” Barak decided.

“It’s really not that thick,” Laja said scraping at it with a pole. “Is it stuck here?”

“It wasn’t when it shut down, but it looks like it might have sunk a few centimeters. I will have Deloris command it to back up. It’s already pointed straight at the ship. See the track marks in the muck? Deloris landed almost right on top of them.”

Laja kept quiet while Deloris and Barak made sure what they intended to do. The tracks on the machine started turning dead slow, but it didn’t move.

“Hold on a second. It doesn’t have a lot of clearance. I think maybe it sank until it is dragging bottom. Laja and I will go around the front and pry with our poles.”

After much side-stepping and careful maneuvering, they were at the front with their sliders jammed up against it.

“Ready?” Barak asked Laja.

“On your word,” she agreed.

“Pry as soon as you see Deloris engages the tracks,” Barak said. “Go ahead, Deloris.”

The tracks started again and they pried, but it didn’t move.”

“Speed the tracks up please,” Barak requested.

The tracks sped up once and again. They pried a little harder and the front of the machine started to lift. It massed as much as a small pickup truck, but it only weighed a few hundred kilograms here. The machine backed up hard and started for the ship. Barak had leaned into it too far and fell forward again in slow motion between the sliders, his toes still in the straps. This time he got his poles positioned to stop his fall.

“It’s rolling,” he called. “Do you have it on camera to stop it short of the ship?”

“Yeah, I have a good view. Don’t worry, I’ll stop it before it bumps us but close enough to get the crane cable on it,” Deloris promised.

“I know the drill on this now,” Barak said before Laja could be helpful. He lifted himself on a pole until he was on his knees and then repositioned the pole and got all the way upright. When he looked over the spinning track had sprayed Laja from head to toe with a sticky mess. She wasn’t saying anything but she didn’t look happy.

From the cargo hold hatch, the crane deployed again. Deloris could do that from the flight deck. Barak fitted the hook to an eyelet on top of the machine making sure the mouse was clipped all the way shut and stood well back.

“Lift it very slowly and let me watch from the side to make sure the ship doesn’t tip,” Barak told her. The cable slowly got straight and the nearest landing jack did sink a half-centimeter or so before the machine started to lift at one end.

“Whoa! It’s lifting on the front first. Tap it just a couple of centimeters at a time,” Barak requested. “I want to make sure it isn’t going to swing back and forth and tap the ship. It’ll be a really slow pendulum with such a long cable in such weak gravity.”

When it lifted clear it did swing ponderously, but to the side not toward the ship.

“It’s only swinging a couple of hundred millimeters and not toward the ship. I’d haul it up slow and when it gets higher the period will shorten and the energy bled off flexing the cable,” Barak said.

They watched it rise until it was about three-quarters of the way to the open hatch.

“I’m stopping right there for now,” Deloris informed them. “I can feel the top of the ship wiggling back and forth in time to it. If you guys want to come on up to the hold you can be waiting there to strap it to the deck when it settles down and I can run the boom in.”

They pulled themselves up the take holds although the hold opening was easily in jumping range. If they missed they might fall back and foul their suits even worse.

“So, how do I clean my suit?” Laja asked when they had the machine strapped down.

“Command decision,” Deloris said before Barak could speak. “We will be returning to the Moon early. I know they have analyzed the soil here for resources, but I have no idea what hazards it has for toxic compounds. We have four one-size-doesn’t-fit-anybody emergency suits. You two can leave your dirty suits in the lock and put emergency suits on for our return. The next modification I’m going to request for future explorers is a lock that can be used as a decontamination booth to spray down somebody in a suit and flush the waste outside.

“I won’t ask you to continue our planned stops wearing emergency suits. They’re for emergencies not normal duty and lack too many features. We have nothing critical to accomplish to make it worth risking any of us. Please think through how you will remove your suits to avoid getting contaminated touching the outside. If you get smeared beyond what can be cleaned with a couple of sani-wipes remove your suit liner and toss it back in the lock before you seal up too. We don’t need that stink inside the ship proper. I have no idea how long it would take the air system to get it all filtered out.”

“Oh man, that stuff stinks worse than the ice ball did,” Barak complained. It was drying and caking up already in the warmth of the lock but still made their eyes water.

“Next time, we sit for awhile and then flush the first fill of air out to get rid of the volatiles before we get out of our suits,” Barak vowed.

“You probably wouldn’t know, but it smells like cat pee,” Laja told him.

* * *

Joel’s official residence was garish to a Spacer. It wasn’t anything like the lavish architecture and gilded furnishings for which French kings were famous. It was comparatively modest as befitting a modern democracy. There were still patterned carpets and drapes and free standing furniture that were alien to the compact way people lived on Home. Worse, there were all sorts of objects sitting out unsecured. Home was long past being able to move fast enough for knick-knacks to become missiles, but the custom endured.

The junction of bulkheads and overheads on Home didn’t have fancy crown moldings and there wasn’t fancy millwork around ports and hatches. Even though it wasn’t fancy carved work with leaves and flowers to spacer eyes it was busy.

The bedroom to which she was taken had something she’d never seen before, wallpaper. It was pale blue with texture and striped vertically with pink satin ribbons. The bed was so high she’d have to jump to get on it, and the shower absolutely dazzled her with a rainbow of metallic glass mosaics. It was all a bit much.

April hadn’t brought a formal gown or fancy shoes along though she owned some. She was wearing a suit liner, the armored tunic that made the pressure suit an uncomfortably snug fit, and only had two casual outfits in her soft bag.

After cleaning up, she put on chocolate brown slacks of synthetic wool with a gold and green embroidered side seam, darker matte slippers with thin socks, and a pale lemon blouse her tailors on Home made to her specs with just a slightly taller banded collar than usual. The blouse had a single stitch line of pale green near the edge of the collar and cuffs to avoid being dead plain. The color worked better than plain white as a background to the yellow gold and diamond necklace she had made on her Hawaiian visit.

The blouse also had French cuffs to show off the most recent jewelry she’d received from her hosts, a pair of rectangular flat, gold cuff links capped with a dome sheltering a single brilliant cut diamond in each dome.

April wore her hair Spacer short with just a little brushed up in front. She wore earrings inherited from her brother that had a triangular diamond to rival the cuff-links paired with a large emerald. The colored stones worked fine next to the lemon blouse and green accents. She rarely wore any of the jewelry alone, but the cuff links were only polite to wear since they were a gift of the French. The other items made sure they knew she wasn’t impoverished and overawed by their gift.

She wore her spex and adjusted a new feature of this recent model, the ability to pick a lens tint and have it bleed in from the side leaving the center clear to see through. April looked in the mirror and adjusted them until the gold-tone speckles near the edge were a fair match for her jewelry.

Her only weapon was an antique aikuchi stuck in her waistband, gifted to her by the media star Genji Akira. It just wasn’t possible to carry more as a gracious guest of France. In North America, she would have demanded more as her treaty right.

Jeff came in and raised his eyebrows. April was dressed and ready to go to dinner early. It wasn’t like her.

“The jewelry is kind of over the top. I know I don’t always get social things. Instruct me, please. What are you trying to say with it?”

“We are very different societies already,” April said, frowning and trying to say it well. She was also aware their rooms were probably bugged. Jeff was probably too polite to leave behind little snoopers of his own, seeing it as a breach of their hospitality.

“Being peers of Heather doesn’t mean much here. The few monarchs left are more national pets and vestiges of the past than actual rulers. The few who technically have a voice in politics use it with a great deal of caution, because it might lead to the final removal of what powers they still retain.

“Being able to stand up in the Assembly and get a serious hearing from the other taxpayers of Home is a kind of influence they would understand, but I really doubt they have an understanding of the metrics other Homies apply to us.

“Military power is also something to which they can relate, but they already know the ability to apply violence is a very crude tool. When everybody has the ability to destroy their enemies but dare not, then it’s useless for subtle work. They’ve seen we are willing to hit China and North America more than they would dare, but France and the other countries that don’t fancy themselves super-powers have no desire to shoot at us or make grandiose declarations of how we are pirates and outlaws. So we’re no danger to them that way because they don’t intend naked aggression.

“Indeed, Broutin said Joel affectionately describes me as a little pirate!

“We are relatively rich, thanks to you, but our companies publish no reports to stockholders and no public tax returns. They have no solid idea of how rich we are. Nevertheless, wealth is something they can understand across all the cultural and political spectrums and that is the message.

“Wearing my best jewelry sends the best signal I know to take us seriously. This is the sort of jewelry only royalty wear on special occasions and it is regarded as a possession of the state, not their personal property. It’s returned and locked in the treasury or a museum after it is worn. Or the very rich such as video stars may wear similar pieces. Often they wear copies and the real ones are kept in secure storage.

“They paid me a huge compliment to gift me with the cuff-links because it acknowledged I was the sort of person to own such things. To not wear them would be like not putting out the throw your favorite aunt knit for you when she comes to visit. But I don’t want them to think it’s the only nice thing I have. The whole ensemble is probably worth twenty or thirty million euromarks right now but I’ve deliberately avoided having them appraised. If anyone is ever so gauche as to ask their worth I can honestly say I don’t know, it doesn’t matter because they aren’t investments, and would never be for sale, they are to wear.”

“Then… the plainer clothing is to not steal attention from them?” Jeff asked.

“And it shows we live differently,” April agreed.

“Maybe I should have some sort of ornament to establish my status,” Jeff mused.

“You are so sweet. To many of the Earthies when we walk in with my hand on your elbow that’s exactly how they will regard me and how I present.”

“You are not an accessory,” Jeff protested.

“Thank you, but that does remain a very persistent aspect of Earth Think, and that’s one more reason why you are sweet. Now you need to get ready too.”

* * *

“I’m not going to send you back out until we modify the hold and the airlock on the Hringhorni,” Heather informed the crew first thing. “Mo had a devil of a time figuring out how to clean the French mill and the mess it left behind in the hold. If we had anywhere in pressure big enough to hold the Hringhorni we wouldn’t have wanted to contaminate that space with Ceres soils.

“He finally came up with a pressurized cleaning tool that uses a spray head on the end of a wand. The design is used for washing down vehicles and large equipment quite often on Earth. It uses way too much water but it does work. The alternatives would be even more ridiculous in using consumables. In a vacuum, the spray goes straight to steam. In any sort of dense atmosphere, it will just be warm water.

“It took sixty liters to get the hold flushed to vacuum in its present configuration because you have all sorts of pockets and corners. The spray comes right back at you just like a radar reflector. It blows half the dirt back where you just removed it. We are eliminating all those recesses, smoothing over everything, and redesigning the hatch itself so you don’t have places that trap and hold dirt. The inside of the hold will be as seamless and slick as we can make it. Control panels will be flat touch screens. Tie-down recesses will be round channels below deck level with radiuses at both ends and no sharp corners. Things like power outlets for standard plugs will be behind flush-fitting plates so you can flush everything from back to hatch easily.

“We’ll be doing the same with the airlock. There will be recessed storage in each with a wand and flush controls for the temperature and flow rate. The hose will be long enough to allow suits to be sprayed clean outside the entry hatch if that is practical. The suit room will also have a separate pressure hatch so it will be separate from the rest of the storage on that deck. You’ll be getting a lot more water storage in the Hringhorni to cover any need to use the system.

“This is exactly the sort of thing that made us hesitate to land on Titan or Europa. By the time we attempt atmospheric landings in environments that can contaminate the ship, we’ll have the systems we need to deal with it, one hopes.

“I may have a Mars mission coming soon, but the Hringhorni would be flying overwatch protecting the Chariot. It isn’t built as a planetary lander.”

Deloris was listening intently, waiting for some hint of censure for her decision to end the mission early, but there was nothing at all. She certainly wasn’t going to engage in self criticism if Heather was happy.

“How long will the Hringhorni be out of service?” Deloris asked her.

“The fabricators decided it was easier to split the ship between the airlock deck and the hold. They’ll have much easier access to make major changes. A lot of things are still waiting on minor details. They are designing and fabbing models of things like the flush plates and lock controls, and then after they test them for release from suit remotes and for a functional seal with the new washer they can then integrate them into the new deck design. If they test well, some of the test components may see actual use. The larger structural pieces will take more than a day to print and cure. They told me to expect about two weeks out of service.

“If you two wish to join Kurt and Alice on recreational leave that’s fine. If you want to stay on active duty and take assignments locally we can always find plenty for you to do. I read your report and it was factual and sufficiently detailed, but rather dry. If your mission was too short to make an evaluation of the apprentice I can understand that. If not I’d like some indication, no matter how tentative, as to her suitability.”

“The apprentice showed maturity beyond my expectations,” Deloris said. “We revealed a lot of personal work history and she made perceptive, but not critical, extrapolations of how that would affect our command style and integration with others. She seemed to me to be sixteen going on thirty for social maturity. She stayed polite and helpful on EV when I’d have been laughing at Barak and cracking jokes instead of being solicitous and concerned for his well being.”

Barak had wisely remained silent but Heather was pointedly staring at him. “I didn’t cover myself with a lot of glory on EV,” he admitted. “I think Laja wants to go out there,” he said, giving a wave at the overhead and by implication far beyond, “bad enough to put up with a whole lot of crap.”

“Well, in all fairness we should endeavor to avoid testing her limits on that, don’t you think?” Heather suggested.

“Sounds like a good program to me,” Barak agreed.

* * *

“Does it really have to be this complicated?” Alice asked.

“It does if you don’t have that big factory you were talking about and trucks delivering exactly what materials you need all made to the size you need,” Vic assured her. “We were spoiled by having cheap miniature batteries you could just throw away casually when they wore out. We saw some for sale in Nevada and they aren’t cheap anymore. They wanted four times what we paid pre-Day.”

Alice had seen him cut the stainless screen and prepare the rebar and charcoal so she had some idea what he meant about the labor in materials. He’d called her back to see him assemble the last cell and activate them.

There was a line along the kitchen counter of quart jars with a roll of cardboard inside each. A roll of small opening stainless poultry wire held a charcoal electrode and a length of rebar sanded clean inside a paper separator. Small nuts and bolts served to connect wires to the wire cloth and rebar electrodes, all hooked up in series to boost the voltage.

The chicken wire was bent over the top lip to hold it to the top part of the jar. The iron rod hung on a wood crossbar almost to the bottom. After he demonstrated assembling the last cell he poured saltwater in each jar until it touched the bottom of the charcoal electrode and would be wicked up into it. The center electrode hanging lower was immersed.

Vic couldn’t find his multimeter. He was sure he had one somewhere from before The Day to check outlets. The LED Christmas light he’d cut off a rope of them started to glow within about thirty seconds after adding electrolyte, so he was getting something.

“What actually makes it work?” Alice demanded.

“That is one of those questions that you need to know a whole lot of other things to understand. You might as well ask me how my truck worked back when I could still buy gasoline. You do realize it has hundreds of parts all working together to make it go and can’t be explained very simply?”

“Yeah, but the simple version is it burns up gas to get the energy to move. I can’t see where these get the power to make electricity. I know there are generators people used to use when the power went out that burned gas too. But these don’t burn anything.”

“In a way they do,” Vic said, “the iron rod will combine with oxygen from the air just like gas combines with air. Eventually, it will be eaten away and I’ll have to replace it. It just isn’t an open flame and it won’t happen fast enough to make it noticeably hot. If you want to understand this kind of stuff we can give you lessons in chemistry. At least the simple sort of chemistry I know and have a couple of books about that you can study.”

“Maybe, show me the books and I’ll look at them a little myself. I never thought about how they worked when I could just get in the kitchen drawer and get a fresh battery from a whole box of them,” Alice admitted.

The little LED seemed much brighter now. Vic took it off the output lines and attached two binder clips pressed into service since he didn’t have any alligator clips. They were wired to a charger cord cut off its wall plug. A big smile spread on his face when the tablet screen showed a battery icon and swirling circle to show it was charging.

“I think another solar charger would be easier,” Alice told him.

“Yes it would,” Vic agreed, “but it’s too late in the season to have Cal drop one to us, and you might be surprised how much the one we have already cost us.”

Alice looked at him with an unguarded face that said she didn’t know whether to speak or not. After a thoughtful pause, she decided to risk it.

“We passed several solar chargers you could have had for free,” Alice told him.

Vic was completely stumped about what she was talking about. He said nothing but it was obvious he had no idea how that could be.

“We passed several highway warning signs that light up at night with little flashing lights when a car approaches. The solar cells and a battery are up on a pole turned to the south. All you need to harvest them is a hacksaw. It’s not like anybody is going to come along and wreck now because it didn’t warn them of a curve or steep downhill is it?” Alice asked.

“It just never occurred to me to steal one,” Vic admitted. “If they are still working at night and I saw them flashing maybe I’d have thought about it. Walking past them in the day they might as well be invisible. I’m just so used to them being there that I don’t think about them any more than the speed limit signs or guard rails. It still feels like vandalism to me even though it makes sense. Like you say, it’s going to be a long time before they serve their original purpose, and our need is great enough to justify taking them. At least that’s what my head is telling me. I paid for them in taxes,” he reasoned.

“You’re too nice,” Alice said. “If there is ever gas for sale again and cars using the roads that will be the least of things they’ll need to fix.”

That was true, Vic decided. If he was too nice there were worse things of which to be accused. He didn’t care to deny Alice her opinions. As for the roads, there were places the roads were washed away or covered with mud and rocks from the uphill side. There were even places weeds were starting to grow in the cracks or over the edge of the road. If things didn’t return to normal for some years it would be a real problem when the bridges deteriorated. Vic wasn’t like Alice, he was pretty confident order would be reestablished from outside. The only thing he wondered now since they had access to the news again with the satellite phone, was if it would be imposed from North America or the Texas Republic.

“Come the spring we’ll do that,” Vic promised. “When we have our bicycles it will be easier to haul them home too.” He was already making a mental list of what he’d need. A hacksaw like Alice said, but wire cutters, a crowbar, screwdrivers, and Channellocks. Oh, and bungee cords, lots and lots of bungee cords.

Chapter 22

“Oh nice, I haven’t seen that outfit in a while,” April said.

“We do make a matched set today don’t we?” Jeff said smiling. April was all in tones of brown and yellow and he had on a dark brown jacket. It wasn’t like a tailored suit jacket, but still much more formal than what Homies usually wore. The fabric sparkled with an occasional specular reflection, not in your face dazzling like sequins, but just an occasional spark of light that actually drew your eye better than a constant show. It was soft and unstructured lacking even a button closure but it hung nicely.

His trousers were off theme a little, being black with a similar line of glitter down the sides, but the shirt picked it up with a print of geometric shapes in many hues of tan and bronze with a metallic sheen. He rarely wore jewelry, but some years ago bought a gold necklace to go with this outfit on April’s advice. His footwear looked nothing at all like any Earthie would wear. They had more in common with ballerina slippers.

The overall effect was not Earth formal, but neither was it an in your face insult to Earth proprieties. The colors were muted and the jewelry understated. April had never prevailed upon him to get his ears pierced, which wasn’t unusual on Home. The colors all went really well with his coppery Indian complexion and deep black hair.

“I’m wondering who will be at dinner and what it will mean?” Jeff said.

“Joel, Pierre, Irwin and us. Spouses I suppose. I don’t know if Joel is married. I never asked Pierre if he was married and he never spoke of a wife. For some reason he never seemed the sort to marry to me,” April said.

“Really?” Jeff asked and looked up at the corners of the room to remind April that the walls likely had ears in this situation.

April gave an exaggerated shrug to say she just didn’t care for any listeners. She was remembering Pierre slept with Heather’s mom, Sylvia, that night long ago she’d stayed over at their home. She’d bunked with Heather and Barak had his own tiny room, so there wasn’t anywhere else he could have been. It scandalized her the next morning when he’d appeared at breakfast. That’s where she’d met him, back pre-revolution. To say so out loud might cause trouble here and now, not just for him but for them. They didn’t need to create an uproar when things were going smoothly. It wasn’t her job to analyze their Foreign Minister’s morals for them.

“I’ve noticed Earth politicians use every occasion in some way,” Jeff said. “They never just do something for its own sake if there is a message that can be sent or an image put out to the public. They may have an ally or an enemy here to send a message.”

“That’s human nature,” April objected. “That’s why I dragged you to Cindy and Frank’s tailor shop to have that outfit made. Not so much for me but for you. People posted pix of us at the club and other places to What’s Happening and other boards. I didn’t want you to get a reputation as a dour person who only lived to work and had no idea how to relax and have fun.”

“And to better be your accessory at least a little bit,” Jeff accused.

April gave a much smaller shrug to concede the point.

“I admit, I saw that people treated me differently when I bothered to dress up. It carried over to when I wasn’t dressed up too, which amazed me. That’s why I went back and got a couple more dressy outfits without you making me. Surely you noticed?”

April nodded. “The blue, the amber, the dark green and the black,” she easily named from memory. “Pretty soon you’ll need a closet! You’ve learned to send messages with your appearance too. I’m surprised you didn’t bring the black outfit. It seems the closest to Earth style. For some reason, it’s my favorite.”

“It’s way too similar to a tuxedo. When they look at me I want them to have a visual reminder we are from a different culture. It should be like sitting across from a Persian in turban and robes or an African in a dashiki, but not too alien,” he said and frowned.

“A balance?” April asked.

“Yes, my father has started applying a bindi again,” Jeff said, touching between his eyebrows. “He said it helps him when he does video conferencing since he does so much business back home now. He said our relatives made fun of it but the trend is for men to use it again. When he was in school growing up he’d have been mocked by his teachers, but now it makes him seem less alien.”

When April looked where he’d touched thoughtfully he hastened to add: “If I used it I’d be lying. I never really was part of that culture like my father.”

“We’re making our own culture, Lord Singh.”

“Good, because I’m not totally fond of any I’ve seen, my Lady April.”

“Lady Lewis if you don’t remember to append the ‘my’,” she reminded him.

“I never thought I’d see you embrace it,” he admitted.

“Like a colorful shirt, at times it’s handy to differentiate yourself,” she said.

“They said to come down at 1900,” Jeff said. “Do you want to be early or late?”

April’s eyes flicked up and to the right to check the time.

“Let’s not play games. If we walk slowly we’ll arrive right on time and send no message which is probably confusing,” she teased.

“OK,” he said offering an arm. “One good thing, with all the rush and switching across time zones I’m hungry and won’t have to fake a polite interest in the food.”

* * *

“Do you have some paper and a pencil I can use?” Alice asked. Her manner was unusual, rather sheepish, and Vic couldn’t figure out why. She’d been quiet and looking pensive and distracted about something all morning. Behind her, Eileen sitting reading with her back to the window for the light looked up briefly from her book but she didn’t want to get involved with this.

“There’s the notepad on the kitchen counter,” Vic said, but she knew that.

“I’d rather have full size sheets, and more of them,” Alice said.

“Well, if you want letter size,” Vic said, showing the size with his hands, “there’s a whole bunch of it in my printer in my office. Take a flashlight since it is shuttered and take what you want. There’s even a couple packs of printer paper I haven’t opened on the shelves. It’s not lined of course. Do you want it to write or to draw?”

“Write, I don’t need lines, I can print pretty straight. But I want a pencil not a pen so I can erase and change things,” she said. “Do you have a few extra pencils so I don’t have to take the one in the kitchen?”

“If you look in my desk the second drawer down on the left is pretty much full of pencils and pens. Some of the pens are probably dried out but I never go through them. If you dig way down there should be some erasers that are much better than the ones on the ends of the pencils. If you plan on doing corrections it helps to write with space between your lines, so you can go back and put in whole phrases instead of just substituting words,” Vic suggested.

He didn’t ask what she wanted to write but the question was plain on his face.

“I’m going to write about how things were for me before The Day with my mom and dad and how different after, also about the Olsens. I figure lots more is going to change and happen to write about in the future. The longer I wait the harder it will be to remember it all,” Alice said. “Some things already seem like they happened so long ago it isn’t quite real.”

She’s going to write about the Foys too, Vic realized, and wasn’t all that comfortable with the idea. All he said, however, was, “If you need any help with words or grammar we have books for that too, or you can ask Eileen or me.”

“Thank you,” Alice said. She pulled the board wedged against it and slipped around the tarp to the cold side of the house where his office was, tugging it back closed as well as possible until she could return and could seal it better.

* * *

When Jeff and April arrived downstairs a servant was waiting to direct them to the library. April hoped that didn’t mean dinner was delayed. She was hungry and alcohol was unlikely to improve that. Irwin was there already and looked so relaxed she wondered if that wasn’t his first drink in his hand. There were two men she didn’t know and a lady sitting closely by Joel with a proprietary hand on his arm. The fact their host and the others were lounging about in a circle of chairs instead of standing suggested there might be some delay.

April looked around and her mouth fell open in shock.

“You look so surprised, my dear, but I’m at a loss to know why,” Joel said.

“I’ve never seen so many books. I mean actual paper books.”

“Well that’s sort of the point of a library,” he said and smiled.

“I knew in the abstract people still keep books. Indeed I have a friend who is writing an illustrated history of Home,” April said. “I just expected a library on this scale to be a government facility or perhaps at a university. I’m frankly impressed and I didn’t anticipate how nice it could be made to look.”

“Don’t be impressed too easily when you see others,” Pierre said. “Joel won’t brag, but not only has he read a number of these volumes, but there’s a little shelf over by his desk that has a number of books he penned. However, some of the wealthy make a show of literacy but actually just tell their decorator to fill the shelves and get a nice balance of colors and sizes. There are design houses that sell books by the shelf meter.”

“I have a few thousand books on my pad,” April said. “Most of which I’ve read, but the cost to lift physical copies to orbit and beyond is prohibitive. I’d quickly run out of room for them too.”

“I’m being a poor host,” Joel decided. “Please, tell Frederick if you’d like a drink and I have some introductions to make before dinner.”

Frederick had approached and stood waiting while they were talking. April saw he was dressed like the servant in the hall but wasn’t sure of his function.”

“Oh, I’d just like some Champagne, please.”

The fellow nodded and looked at Jeff.

“Scotch whiskey with just a little water please.”

“If books are too heavy surely bottled spirits are extravagant too,” Joel said.

“Yes, but it is at least used up and doesn’t fill up your cubic,” April said.

“It’s sometimes hard to imagine the differences in how we live,” Joel said. “I do envy Pierre that he’s been up there several times now. He has the most interesting tales. Often it is the little things that surprise us most.”

“New Las Vegas makes an industry of tourism,” Jeff pointed out. “We don’t get as many, but we do get some tourists. There’s no reason you couldn’t visit yourself. It’s very safe and there isn’t any open hostility to Earthies.”

“And that isn’t a slur?” Joel asked with apparent sincerity.

“No more than Homies,” Jeff assured him.

“When Pierre visited I sent a young man to guide him about and took him to dinner,” April said. “We’d be delighted to do the same for you.”

“I’ll remember that offer if the voters decide I need a lot more personal time freed up. Once you’ve held the top job taking other posts in retirement seems silly. So I’d have a lot more time to travel.”

Neither of the guests was bold enough to interrupt their host, but Jeff was visually appraising the others so Joel took a hint to introduce them. Out of courtesy presented his wife first.

“My Dear, I present April Lewis and Jeffery Singh. This is my wife of some years and partner in life Mylène.” Mylène just nodded and didn’t engage them in conversation.

“Mr. Singh, this is Henri Colombe. Henri is the Governor of our national bank. Henri, Jeffery Moses Singh of the System Bank of Home. With Irwin, whom you have met, these two are pretty much the sum of banking off Earth,” Joel said. Henri didn’t get up to shake hands. He seemed a little frosty actually.

“I have to issue a disclaimer,” Jeff said. “I am no executive. April here and Heather, the Sovereign of Central are all equal partners in the bank. It was actually April who conceived the idea of starting the bank, though she was on Earth at the time and put off the initial formation on me. So you have two officers of the System Bank here.”

Henri nodded an acknowledgment of that for April, looking her over with new interest that was a frank appraisal.

“Ah, no need for me to introduce her further then,” Joel said.

“I understand,” Henri said, “that you are also peers to the Moon Queen, however it is your custom to refer to her, and thus Lord Singh and Lady Lewis, is that correct?”

“We just say, Heather. She isn’t much on formalities. You don’t need to feel you are addressing the sovereign if you ask her to pass the salt at dinner. She adopts the plural mode of speech and gets an entirely different attitude that is unmistakable when she is speaking with that voice. It rarely happens outside her court.”

“She takes this seriously? It’s not just for outside consumption?” Henri asked.

“She holds court with a literal little carpet upon which you are called to stand, and sets her pistol on the table to hand to dispense capital justice if there is need. The people who are sworn to her take it very seriously. She did not seek them as subjects, they sought to swear to her for protection. As for April or me, we are not Lord or Lady away from Central and a fancy title and twenty dollars Australian will get you a decent cup of coffee on Home.”

Henri nodded but it was obvious he had reservations.

“I’d speak with you at length another time. Our present company would not appreciate prolonged technical discussions of things in which they have no interest. I wanted to meet you and get the measure of you, which I fancy I have already.”

“I’m in the public com list on Home anytime you want to speak,” Jeff offered. “The lag will drive you crazy but you can always come up and speak face to face in a much more secure environment with me. Do not be shy to run what we say past veracity software. Nobody on Home will take offense at it or pretend it doesn’t exist or that it doesn’t work.”

The other, younger man had been shifting to the edge of his seat as it became obvious the introductions with Henri were wrapping up. When Joel shifted his stance to include him he rose and approached even before Joel spoke.

“Lewis, Singh, this is Herman Bellinger. I confess presenting you with him is a bit of a self-serving act. I do not mean to lay an ambush for you but I’m afraid I find myself at odds with Mssr. Bellinger. He is put out with me and I doubt he would have come at my invitation alone but wanted to meet you badly enough to put up with my company. Bellinger, your nemesis,” Joel said.

Jeff was about to say, ‘Yes, your astronaut.’ However, being named as the man’s nemesis made him swallow that. He felt neither godlike nor avenging. Despite the off-putting introduction, Bellinger was eager to take his hand. He took it double-handed and didn’t let it go quickly. His gaze was so intense Jeff was disquieted.

“The radio beacon on the object at Alpha Centauri claimed for your queen was placed by a Deloris Wrigley. Were you along with that expedition?” Bellinger demanded.

“No, that was a four-person survey crew in the exploration craft the Hringhorni,” Jeff said. “I’ve been there twice before in Dionysus' Chariot, the vessel we flew here. Once with April here,” he nodded at her, “and once with Barak Anderson, one of the crew that placed the claims marker.”

Bellinger looked so shocked at the straight answer he was speechless. Apparently, he expected a firm denial and wasn’t prepared for honesty. Joel and Pierre looked shocked too.

“Your pardon,” Jeff said. “I realize we haven’t been forthcoming about our capacity until recently. We three decided just some days ago that there was little point pretending it was a secret. We left Home or Central too many times with no stated destination but translunar space to Traffic Control and came back with impossible vectors. We also made a couple of visits to Mars with impossible transit times. If the Earth governments want to keep their own people in the dark about it they undoubtedly can for some time. They have control of the internet internally. Our own people were telling us it was the worst kept secret on the Moon and sort of silly.”

“I, we… you,” Bellinger said and locked up. Jeff just waited for him to sort it out.

“May one ask just a couple more questions?” Bellinger finally requested.

“Please, I appreciate your bravery in following the Pedro Escobar not knowing if you would fail to reappear like them,” Jeff said.

“Would you tell me the timeline? When did you first go to Centauri, before or after James Weir and the Escobar?”

“We went some weeks before him. It was an accident actually. We were testing equipment and calibrating. April insisted I aim at Centauri just like we intended to go instead of pointing at random. Otherwise, I’m not sure we wouldn’t have been lost just like Weir. Then, when James didn’t return I went back to Centauri with Barak and listened and searched with what radar we have and couldn’t find any trace of him.”

“That was good of you,” Bellinger allowed.

“I met James Weir on Home,” Jeff said. “We hit it off rather well and I’m sorry he is missing and I assume dead. He was brilliant and it’s a great loss. If he hadn’t pointed out some of the mathematical oddities of the underlying theory I don’t know if I’d have progressed to our own drive.”

Bellinger nodded. “One last question, please. Did France know you had attained star flight before us?”

“I can’t see how,” Jeff said. “We were working on it but had an unexpected breakthrough. Only a handful of very reliable people knew for a short period of time, and France was still negotiating with us after the fact for things that wouldn’t have made any sense to be seeking if they’d known.”

Bellinger looked at his phone and let out a deep sigh. He keyed in something.

“You test, as you invited, as believing that. I retired in anger and had ‘insurance’ placed to embarrass France if I was harmed,” Bellinger revealed. “I didn’t believe they sent me away innocent of the knowledge you had been to the star. I was wrong and would have harmed them for nothing and unjustly. I just put in motion to clear the documents set to do that. If they want to kill me now they can. I don’t care.” He sat down hard.

“That seems an extreme reaction,” April said. “There is life after an error.”

“My whole life purpose was to be the first to another star. That is snatched away. What is left for me but to amuse myself with trivial pursuits in retirement?”

“What if it hadn’t happened in secret?” April asked. “There was always the possibility somebody else might beat you there. Would you have been so bitter then?”

“No, you’re right. It was the fact that I felt betrayed that made me angry, and now I’ve cut myself off from the agency and the program. I can’t see going back. I wouldn’t want me back,” Bellinger declared.

Notably, Joel didn’t contradict him.

A look of consternation swept across his face. “I owe you an apology too,” Bellinger said to Joel.

Joel made a ‘whatever’ flip of his hand that was more indifference than acceptance.

April wondered why he said ‘too’. He hadn’t really apologized to Jeff. But then he hadn’t really accused Jeff of deceiving him like France. April suspected it wasn’t really clear in Ballinger’s mind with whom he was angry.

“Perhaps you should emigrate,” Jeff suggested. “There are always openings for pilots and your qualifications with an extra-solar flight are rather impressive. I wouldn’t hire you at the moment, though we are taking apprentices, but I very well might after seeing if you can integrate with the Home culture.”

“Is that so hard?” Bellinger asked, surprised.

“A lot of them don’t last a month. If they stick it out to six months they stand a fair chance of making the transition,” Jeff said.

Bellinger didn’t say anything for a little while just sitting blinking until he became aware everyone was looking at him. “All this has been a shock to me. I have to think about what I want to do, to consider if I can make such a radical change, and if I have the resources to buy a lift to Home and have sufficient resources left to survive until I have income,” He considered, “and if it is permitted.”

“Irwin already informed me he is staying on Earth to finish out his business,” April said “If you are bold enough, show up at the field tomorrow. We’ll have two vacant seats in the back, and you can have a free lift to Home. You can save your funds for other things.”

Bellinger looked astonished again and just nodded until he realized how inadequate that gesture was and gave verbal thanks. He hadn’t accepted quite yet though.

“If everyone is ready I’m told dinner may be served,” Joel said, rising.

* * *

Alice sat down opposite Eileen with a clipboard holding a short stack of paper. She had a pencil in hand and sat a couple more to the side on the table. Rather than start in writing, which she’d been doing a lot lately, she looked at Eileen intently. Seeing something different was intended Eileen turned her head slightly and raised an inquiring eyebrow.

“Where were you on The Day when the lights went out?” Alice demanded. “What did your people say and how long did it take before you all realized how bad it was?”

To her own immense surprise as well as Alice’s discomfort Eileen put her face down in both hands and started to sob softly. Nobody, not even Vic, had asked for her story before.

Chapter 23

April was surprised that Joel set a table not much fancier than Heather’s mom Sylvia on Home. The china and napkins were similar. The utensils also were actual silver, not stainless. That was something April kept intending to buy for herself and hadn’t remembered to do. The one time she’d started to look, she found most of the patterns needlessly ornate and not to her taste. The biggest difference was Sylvia used placemats that allowed the surface of the wood table to show. In orbit, wood was a luxury one didn’t hide. Joel’s table was probably wood, April thought, but covered with a single big cloth with a pattern in the weave.

The settings at each place were easy to figure out. They didn’t put out exotic pieces like a fish fork if nothing was planned to be served that needed it. The napkin was folded in a pretty shape like origami instead of rolled in a ring. April liked that and decided to remember it as something she’d take back to use at the Fox and Hare.

Jeff was seated to Joel’s right hand, April next, and then the banker. Joel’s wife was at his other hand, then Irwin and last the astronaut who seemed very subdued. Pierre ended up at the opposite end of the table from Joel. If there was any logic or rank to it April couldn’t figure it out. She’d have put people next to each other that likely to want to chat, and then she reconsidered. That might kill the larger conversation. Indeed, April wasn’t sure what they were going to talk about. It seemed like a potential minefield of topics.

Mylène asked Pierre what he’d found different visiting Home.

“The children,” Pierre answered without hesitation. “April sent a young man to be my guide the first day before we met at her club that evening. He presented his card to me in the Japanese style, two-handed. It indicated he had multiple business interests, not one of which would be permitted in any developed nation on Earth. He made my relative’s children seem silly. Their children just aren’t very childish.”

“How old was this young fellow?” the banker Henri asked. “If my nephews in public schools have an absence from school that was not arranged ahead of time the school sends a compliance officer to verify they are sick and possibly demand they be taken to school. The parents are then charged for transporting them and fined on top of it.”

“He looked to be about fourteen years old,” Pierre said. “He indicated he would miss a class on History and a class on Materials Science. He felt the educational value of dealing with someone from a different culture was more valuable than the missed classes he could easily make up.”

“A different culture?” Henri asked.

“I had the same reaction,” Pierre confessed, “but I think I’ve come to agree with him.”

“Who would authorize him being out of school?” Henri asked. “His parents?”

“He never really said,” Pierre replied, but looked up at April and Jeff for an answer.

Jeff looked amused and nodded at April to respond. That was far safer.

“Eric is a very polite young man,” April said. “He and his sister have been students of my mother’s school for some time now. There are two other schools of which I am aware of now, but I’m not sure if he uses either of them. There are a lot of tutors on Home. I’m sure my mom would arrange a tutor for something like Materials Science if he didn’t find it on his own. Or he may use a web class from some Earth University. I’d assume he left text messages for my mom or his tutor that he was going to be busy and not contribute to the class that day. The fact he can call off on his attendance at will all boils down to one thing, who is paying?”

“So he goes to a private school? One that is very permissive about alternative activities such as travel and protests?” Henri asked.

“We don’t have any public schools,” April said. “If he doesn’t make use of the school for which his father pays good money he’d have to answer to his father. If he was such a poor student he wasn’t benefiting from his opportunities my mother would discuss it with his parents, but if in the end if it wasn’t corrected she’d drop him as a waste of her time. A terrible student would cast doubt on her effectiveness if she retained him just for the fee. There is no government agency doling out tax money for his butt to be glued to a seat each day, so nobody has any financial incentive to enforce attendance.”

Henri blinked rapidly, looking at her like she was insane.

“And what would happen to a student who refused to accept instruction?” he asked.

“I suppose the same thing that would happen to a student here who refused to learn,” April said. “Correct me if I am wrong. I know of no way you can compel someone to learn. If they attain adult age and have no skills they will be unemployable. They could live off their family, mooch that is, engage in some employment that requires no skills, which are almost nonexistent or be forced to come down here where there is the negative tax or some form of basic assistance in most of the developed Earth nations. I do know of one family who sent their rebellious son back to North America to a military academy.”

“Nobody likes to say it,” Pierre said, “but those who are truly incorrigible such as you are describing are the young men who end up in prison at an early age.”

“Makes sense,” April said, nodding, “but we don’t have a jail much less a prison. I suspect the Assembly would vote to flush a person who was an actual danger to the community out of an airlock sans suit, if we didn’t have Earth nearby as a safety valve.

“Do remember, we don’t have an arbitrary age of majority on Home. If somebody isn’t voted their adult status it isn’t dumped on them at a fixed date to act as an adult whether they can handle it or not. Nobody would nominate you or vote for you if you weren’t already demonstrating you were ready. You can’t assume citizenship and pay taxes or vote if you aren’t an adult. I doubt anyone would marry you or accept your certification as a pilot or other responsible position. Nor would anyone accept a challenge to a duel from a child.”

“Paying taxes is a privilege?” Bellinger asked.

“Certainly, if you don’t pay you don’t get a vote in the Assembly. You have no say at all in which way your country will go and what will be accepted in the budget,” April said.

“I will say the young gentleman indicated he has a love of History such that he has no trouble meeting the requirements of the class,” Pierre remembered, “and that the technical class was what he called a flow class. One comes in and departs at need rather than for a set period of instruction. So compelling his attendance for either would seem to have little relationship to his success.”

April nodded. “If something is really complex and you need extra time to think on it and come to a thorough understanding, setting a date to finish it is either guaranteeing failure or that you will be kicked out before you have an adequate mastery of the subject. If I’d been rushed to learn Japanese I’d have flunked out for sure. Life kept… interfering.”

“It does that, doesn’t it?” Joel said, smiling.

“But what seems different here for you?” Mylène asked. She was looking at April.

“We don’t get to see the same things here Pierre saw on Home,” April said. “My experience with Earth is limited to visits some years ago to my grandparents in Australia and just a couple of years ago to Hawaii. I didn’t get to meet any children to form an opinion of them. I got to shop with my grandmother for groceries and casual cut to size clothing. When I was in Hawaii my hostess took me to a designer for bespoke things. They were very different experiences.

“I got to drive a big Mercedes SUV, a truck. That was terrifying compared to flying a spaceship. I guess the biggest difference is I can walk around Home and Central without security most of the time but when we land here there are layers of armed men around us.”

Joel frowned like he’d pursue that but April continued.

“It feels strange all of you are bare-faced with no spex. I just expect everybody in public to have them on except very little kids.”

“In contrast, I found it strange Eric had them on when he met me,” Pierre said. “There is rather strong disapproval of young people having such an expensive appliance here. Speaking of schools again, none would allow them. It extends to adults at times. Police or technicians are expected to need them, but many small restaurants will turn you away and not seat you here if you are wearing them. The other patrons never know if you are recording. It’s like having your phone out on the table constantly. It makes people feel they aren’t worthy of your undivided attention.”

“Oh dear, I had no intention to be rude,” April said, but didn’t offer to remove them.

“We are used to dealing with other people,” Pierre said with a dismissive wave.

“Of other cultures,” Henri interjected, with an amused grin.

“Good shot,” Pierre said.

By this time they were on their third course and second wine. The dinner flowed easily without interrupting their conversation. April suddenly realized Mylène was not a decorative accessory to Joel anymore than she was to Jeff. She had directed the conversation from what otherwise threatened to be a very awkward start with a few skillful questions. April decided she should engage her directly.

“How about you, Mrs. Durand? If you could pry Joel away from the never ending business of state, would you like to visit Home or any of the other habitats?” April asked.

“You may use my given name,” Mylène said with a genuine smile. “I’m ready for Joel to retire to the point I’ve informed him I’m voting against him just to force the issue. I’d like to get us both the Life Extension Therapy regardless of the stupid prejudices against it, and if we can’t return to Earth because of that it’s their loss, not ours. They are driving the very best people off Earth right into your arms. At least those who are willing to live in a tiny box.”

“My wife is a lady of strong opinions, as both my allies and opponents are quick to find out in private,” Joel said.

“I can deal with that,” April assured him. “It seems like I am surrounded by strongly opinionated people. I’m used to it. My security often gives me grief.”

“They may have a point,” Joel said gently. “That video you released suggests you take unnecessary risks. If your security hadn’t intervened it appears that fellow intended to assassinate you. Unless you exaggerated the danger for propaganda purposes?”

“Oh no,” April assured him unoffended. “He certainly intended harm, but my security never had an opportunity to deal with him. That fellow that he drew on was a third party volunteer. If he got through him he had to get through my personal guard, a fellow from station security assigned me because I was in particular danger having an ongoing dispute with North America, and then me. I’m not slow and I go armed on Home. If he’d tried that on my man Gunny he’d have been dead, but the, uh, volunteer Tased him. The intel from that was useful.”

“My people said the fellow in the video was heavily enhanced and thus a Spacer,” Joel said. “But I’m willing to entertain other possibilities.”

“I suspect a lot of Earth countries are going to allow their own Special Forces and spooks to be gene-altered,” April said. “Otherwise they simply aren’t going to be competitive.”

“Texas,” Bellinger said from down the table with utter conviction. When they all looked at him he spread his hands. “Who benefits more?” he asked rhetorically. “Besides, look at Jeff’s face if you don’t believe me. You don’t need software to read that face. He couldn’t tell you a lie if his life depended on it.”

“As may be,” April said, “but I’m going to warn you. What he regards as truth may seem to have no relationship to any reality you can believe.”

“I’d sort of expect that from the mind that can create a star drive,” Bellinger said. “I flew the ship but understanding why it worked was beyond me.”

He stopped and looked at Joel intently and demanded: “Does France have any objection to me accepting an invitation to Home? Will you put any barrier before me?”

“Frankly, you’ve been a difficult man as a national hero. That’s why you were invited tonight, to try to mitigate that somewhat. I’ll be happy to be rid of you before you find another grievance. Go with my blessings. Take your pension and any assets. I’ll see to it. I wish you well and all the happiness you can find, far, far away,” Joel said.

“Thank you. You’re right. I’ve been a bit of an ass and I don’t expect forgiveness, but I’ll leave thinking well of you. I’ve made up my mind sitting here discussing Home with all of you. I’ll be at the port tomorrow to claim that seat,” he told April.

“I don’t know how far away your home is, but you can lift some keepsakes and papers if you wish. Bring what you want to a cubic meter and a couple of hundred kilos. Everything is more expensive on Home, but a lot of clothing you might think to bring isn’t really suitable.”

“Indeed, I went up wearing a very nice suit and it made me an oddity who stood out in the corridors,” Pierre said. “I had some things made to blend in such as this shirt. I expected Joel to harass me about it since he sternly ordered me to forego a tie. But he has ignored it.”

“I thought it very becoming,” Joel protested with hurt innocence.

“And that I don’t need to run through any software either,” Bellinger said.

“Amen,” April agreed.

* * *

“I’m sorry. That all came pouring out unexpectedly,” Eileen said, wiping her face with the damp washcloth Alice brought her. “I didn’t really know that was all bottled up inside. I’m such a coward. I was afraid you would decide to tell me everything you have been through and was dreading it.”

“That’s OK, I don’t really want to tell my story. I’d rather write it down. If you want to read it later when I’m done that’s up to you. But Vic went out to split wood as soon as you started crying and it’s almost sundown. He must be tired by now if he isn’t frozen. Let’s start some supper and see if we can coax him back inside,” Alice said.

* * *

The last bite of caramelized honey brûlée was eaten, or in April’s case pushed away half eaten in defeat. That was so difficult to achieve even Jeff noticed.

Joel invited them back to the library for an after dinner drink.

“If you will pardon me, I need to run along home and pack some things for our lift tomorrow,” Bellinger said.

“Go, and sin no more,” Joel said with an odd gesture like he was flipping something off his fingers. April looked a question at Jeff and he just shrugged. She wanted to look it up in her spex but given the controversy over them, she was afraid a prolonged search would be seen for what it was and offend.

Frederick was waiting for them in the library. He spoke quietly with Mylène and came over to April.

“I’ve had far more wine than I am used to and am stuffed. If you have some Coca-Cola that would be a treat I don’t often get, over ice please.”

“Of course,” he agreed and moved on to the men.

“The scotch like before,” Jeff said.

“The same,” Joel told Fredrick.

“You like that?” he asked Jeff.

“It’s good, it’s interesting, and I like bourbon too, but haven’t had a wide enough variety of either to form firm opinions. I’ve been trying to make our own whiskey and it hasn’t been a huge success so far. I got some expert help on the matter, a master distiller. It will be six or seven years before we know if his advice helped. He was totally uninterested in staying on the Moon or Home and living, as Mylène says, in little boxes. He did say that whatever we end up with it won’t be a copy of any Earth whiskey but something unique of our own.”

“Frederick, what is Mr. Singh’s scotch?” Joel called out.

“It’s Macallan, sir. Just the twelve-year, nothing particularly exotic.”

“If you have an unopened bottle send it off with him,” Joel ordered.

“I’m sure we do, I’ll package it up for safe traveling,” Fredrick promised.

“That’s kind of you. If we ever manage something of which we aren’t ashamed I’ll send you some,” Jeff said.

“You’ll have to export,” Henri said. “People want novelty even if it’s odd. Sometimes because it is odd.”

“And limit supply to enhance the novelty,” Jeff agreed.

“Irwin, you pay attention to those fellows I brought you. I assume you didn’t leave them at the hotel?” April demanded.

“No, they were being entertained with Joel’s security, much like us but with a lot less alcohol. I’m off to Brussels tomorrow and I’ll see how much I can pick up from when I was so rudely interrupted.”

“Their gear seemed to have my fellow’s interest,” Joel said.

“It’s new to the point of being experimental,” Jeff said.

“I believe you better walk April upstairs before you have to carry her,” Joel said.

“Huh?” April said, eyes popping back open at her name.

“I too need to get home while my family still recognizes me,” Henri said.

Pierre rose too, not saying anything but finishing his drink with finality.

“I didn’t mean to kill the party,” April apologized.

“Nonsense, it was a natural death after a full and good life,” Joel said. “I’m well past an age to stay up to greet the sun, and I’ll be much more amusing over breakfast.”

“Not going to happen,” April vowed. “I’m never going to eat again.”

* * *

April woke slowly with no alarm. The overhead looked weird until she remembered where she was. The bright yellow light streaming in the window like a searchlight was unnatural – to her.

Jeff was nowhere to be seen, but she heard running water so that must be him showering. She wondered how long they could lounge around before their hosts came looking to make sure they were well and alive?

“House, are you aware?” she said aloud.

“I listen. Questions of awareness and philosophy my owner will tell you are beyond me. But if you need services or communications I can set them in motion.”

“Are the Durands up and about? Has anyone had their breakfast yet?” April asked.

“The Durands are awake and asked to be told when you were both awake. I’ve now notified him you are both awake and he’s told the kitchen to have cold items available in the Sun Room in a half hour and hot breakfasts with a chef to do omelets and waffles by an hour. Does that work for you or shall I ask the Master to delay on your behalf?” the house asked.

“That works splendidly,” April said. The house, whatever its limits and abilities somehow managed not to be irritating like so many of her friend’s avatars.

“Finally, I’ve been waiting on the bathroom,” April said when Jeff emerged.

“I heard you talking to the house so don’t try to tell me that stuff. It couldn’t have been much more than a minute. Anyway, there’s the twin of the bathroom on the other side,” Jeff said pointing at another door opposite.

“A bedroom with two baths?” April said, incredulous. “You know I don’t care for planets, but the shower is civilization. This is an area in which we need to catch up.”

“I think you will be just fine with planets if we just have our own planet,” Jeff said. “They are pleasantly roomy and we can have a bath for each day of the week if you fancy it.”

“Maybe have them on a carousel,” April said, making a swirling motion with her hand. “If you open the door and it’s green you know it’s Monday, blue and it’s Tuesday, etcetera.”

“I’m a man of simple tastes,” Jeff declared. “Plain white is fine if it is self-cleaning.”

“You heard, we are to breakfast in the Sun Room?” April asked.

“Yes, I’m sure there will be a guide at the bottom of the stairs. Why don’t you get cleaned up and forego most of the jewelry this morning? I’d think breakfast will be informal.”

“Ask the house. It seems smarter than average.”

“House, is breakfast a formal affair here?” Jeff asked.

“Meals are rarely a dress affair in this Home unless it is a state dinner,” the house said.

“What constitutes ‘dress’?” Jeff asked.

“Black tie is the norm in the evening. Suits are acceptable but more often tuxedos or evening coats. Dinner jackets should be black or colored as servers wear white. Frock coats are coming back but are considered a bit frumpy and usually worn by foreigners.

“Breakfast is rather casual and a dinner jacket isn’t needed. If one wishes to wear a simple blazer or sports jacket that is acceptable. If you wish, I can ask your host what is expected for today.”

“Please do so,” Jeff requested. There was a pause of dead air. The house didn’t let them hear it putting the question to their hosts.

“Mssr. Durand says these people are from Home. Tell them to wear pants, avoid scary weapons that would frighten the help, and that will suffice.”

“You’re right,” Jeff told April. “We have a reputation.”

Chapter 24

If she forgot her sleepy words, nobody was unkind enough to remind April she was never going to eat again. The chef was delighted and amused that she agreed an omelet would be nice and instructed him, “Just toss everything in it.”

“Have you had an opportunity to read the news channels this morning?” Joel asked.

“Ugh, no. Why would I want to spoil a lovely day as early as possible?” April asked. “I have alerts set for friends and things that must be dealt with right away, good or bad.”

“The Republic of Texas and Hawaii have announced a joint committee to explore a free trade agreement and free travel between them without visas,” Joel said. “By the most amusing coincidence, Texas also announced they have placed points of inspection to interdict traffic on all the north-south highways across New Mexico and to the west across Arizona north of Flagstaff.”

“I have to look at the maps,” April said. “I can be kind of hazy on North American geography and I just don’t think about roads very much.”

Joel patiently piled fruit on his waffle while April tilted her head and stared at the ceiling as a blank background for her spex overlay.

“They keep surprising me,” April admitted. “I expected them to push to the east and try to reach the Atlantic. My man, Chen, will probably be able to explain why they didn’t or more likely couldn’t. When they pushed from the Pearl River to the Apalachicola River it looked to me on a map like it would be hard to hold such a long thin strip of land from being cut back off, but he explained the realities of the geography and supply from the Gulf. Now I do remember the North Americans took their own bridge down at the Apalachicola. I didn’t do that. So they wanted to draw a line there.”

“Do I know this Chen?” Joel asked.

“A private… researcher, my bad for saying his name out loud,” April admitted.

Joel’s software weighed ‘researcher’ way down the list as a near falsehood. It was the least truthful thing April said so far but Joel let it go.

“This wasn’t something you were orchestrating behind the scenes?” Joel demanded.

“Not at all,” April said absolutely. The verification software wasn’t going to read any hedging in that at all.

“I’ve never set any of this up just to favor Texas. It was just incidental to my own purposes. Now, if it made the impact of what I did greater that’s fine. But I never consulted with the Texans or told them ahead about what I was going to do so they could take advantage. I never asked for any reward either. I didn’t want to muddy the waters about getting Irwin released by giving them Texas as an issue to raise with me,” April insisted.”

“But I noticed that you didn’t correct Bellinger when he concluded it was Texans who intervened in your assassination,” Joel said.

April considered. There was no way she could dance around this without the software showing she was hiding something. She didn’t want to look evasive.

“Yeah, it was a Texas Ranger that took the assassin down. We didn’t know who or what he was until after he acted, and he didn’t want credit or public thanks. We tried to respect that. That’s why we avoided showing his face or the unique badge those guys wear. If you have no real reason to out him I’d appreciate you keeping quiet. From my view, you had it backward. I’m not helping Texas, the Texans are helping me.

“Notice that I’m not doing anything to help them in the west. In fact, I’m not sure what I could do to help them grab New Mexico or Arizona. I have my doubts they can cut off North America from Mexico. California is in chaos still and my guys said there is still a large North American military presence at San Diego. I have no reason to mess with them there.”

Joel didn’t insult her by acknowledging the software confirmed what she said.

“I believe, just as I had some reversed suppositions, you may too,” Joel said.

“Oh yeah? What?” April asked in sincere innocence.

“I believe Texas may be driving to the west to prevent Mexico from coming north.”

“Oh… You think North America has lost its grip on them?” April asked.

“We don’t see them pressuring Texas across the border on behalf of North Americas, do we? It looks like they have them surrounded on a map but as your friend told you that can be deceiving, I believe attacking Texas from the south would be suicidal. At this point, they’d have to retake a considerable territory just to reach the former border. On the other hand, California is drastically depopulated and much easier to consider seizing. San Diego will be a problem that can’t just be bypassed and allowed to remain at their back if they try.”

“That could get complicated,” April said considering all sorts of new ideas.

“That, my dear, is an understatement,” Joel said. It didn’t seem to spoil his breakfast.

* * *

April saw no need for an escort to the port. Joel informed her that just wasn’t how things were done. If they received a formal welcome they would be given an equally formal goodbye. To do otherwise would signal there had been some sort of rift.

When they were ready to walk down to leave, April got a priority message buzz on her pad the same time as Jeff. It was Irwin and he was brief.

Attacked outside our hotel in Brussels. Nobody is hurt. On route right now to an alternate hotel at my security team’s insistence. I will send more and video when we stop rolling. – Irwin

“We better go down and tell Joel,” Jeff said.

Instead, when they opened the door Joel was standing right there looking concerned.

“You heard already,” April said.

“Yes, we’re changing plans to take you to the port,” Joel said. “No leisurely drive in a limo. We have an armored fan platform and armed escort setting down in the street. Local police are closing it off at the cross streets and we’ll set down beside your ship at the port.”

“You might tell your guys there we’re expecting Bellinger. I bet they have everything closed down so tight they won’t let him near the ship,” April worried.

“I was already told he has been there since dawn and he’s sitting in a port authority car with his luggage. I think he was scared he’d miss your lift,” Joel said.

The fan platform didn’t just sit down in the street. It sat down inside the wall right on the front walk barely clearing the bushes. The fast movers sat in the street and as they came out the door a couple more passed overhead with a total disregard for noise abatement.

They were hustled in the troop carrier interior and pushed towards seats. Two kitted up soldiers were strapped in already and a hard-faced officer strapped Joel in yanking the straps extra tight. When he turned he was visibly surprised Jeff and April were both strapped in without help.

“Helmet please!” April shouted over the rising pitch.

The fellow looked blank.

“Casques s'il vous plait,” Joel said.

The man reached over them and pulled helmets from some recess. More importantly, he plugged them into ports over their shoulders. Unfortunately, they were tied right in the command channel and none of them could talk without interfering with the flight crew.

The officer threw himself in a seat opposite them, pulled a lap belt on, and said, “VA!”

April was suddenly very heavy, whipped sideways one way, then the opposite and watch in fascination as the officer opposite calmly pulled his shoulder straps tight like they were still sitting parked on the ground.

When they leveled out April waved to get his attention. He lifted his head to show he was paying attention. April tapped the side of her helmet and held up three fingers.

He nodded, unplugged his own helmet cord and plugged it in a different port, flipping some recessed switches in a little control board. The pilot chatter disappeared and the engine noise was different.

“You guys hear me now?” April asked. Jeff and Joel confirmed.

“Under the circumstances, I ordered Mylène to stay home,” Joel apologized.

“I think you’re nuts to come along,” April said, “Though that may appear ungrateful.”

“Well at least everyone is in agreement,” Joel said. “The Captain here informed me I was both crazy and a tremendous pain in the butt to make them guard me under protest and unnecessarily difficult circumstances. Mylène was not nearly so polite.”

“Just because somebody went after Irwin doesn’t mean it is a general attack or will be coordinated in any way,” Jeff said. “But I’ll be happy to be off-planet.”

“I suspected you might,” Joel said. “That’s why I didn’t suggest a change of plans and a move to a safer location. We have an abundance of bunkers, after all.”

“Irwin, have you stopped moving? Can you talk to me?” April shouted in her phone.

“Yes, I can. Where are you calling from, the inside of a running garbage disposal?”

“A fan platform, taking us to our ship,” April said.

“First of all, Otis says your armor is… Let’s just say good. He expressed in a much saltier format. He’s been speaking to Mackay and relayed that the fellow who shot at him was asked by the police why he shot at me and looked confused and said, “Who?” It appears he opened fire on Mackay and Otis because he saw them all armored up and recognized they were Spacers. He didn’t even perceive they were guarding the inoffensive little fellow behind them. He was babbling on about an invasion of immortal Homies and the plague.”

“Oh Dear God,” April said.

“Yeah, he was mentioned in there somewhere too. This really doesn’t look like an organized action. I’m pretty sure you guys are clear. Want to see the video?”

“Sure, run it,” April invited. By this time Jeff had his pad out sharing with Joel.

The helmet camera was Otis’ because he looked down the sidewalk to his right then panned past the hotel entry and looked to his left at Mackay. Mackay had his armor set to a very dark blue with a clear visor. For an instant when he looked to the left Irwin could be seen in the left rear view overlay and the edge of his front view too.

“Gun left!” Mackay called out. It was his side so he wheeled to confront the threat. Otis turned that way too but to snatch up Irwin and turn away from the threat shielding him with his body. He ran over to the façade of the hotel forming a corner in which Irwin sheltered.

In his right rear camera, a figure in dark clothing had appeared from between parked vehicles and was advancing down the sidewalk yelling something in German. Mackay sent the two ball drones orbiting him towards the figure and the man lifted a stubby rifle and tracked one letting off a burst that disintegrated the drone to a cloud of fragments. It also shattered windows across the upper floors of the hotel.

April adjusted the screen to expand that camera view.

This was horrible. They not only had a gunman but one who could shoot and reckless of any collateral danger. Mackay cut power to his other drone letting it hit the pavement and bounce away rather than have the man spray more fire down the busy street.

The man was advancing on Mackay and Mackay was advancing on him even faster. The fellow wasted precious seconds lowering his muzzle to track the unpowered drone before he realized it was no longer a threat and let it bounce past him. By that time Mackay was almost upon him.

The man stopped advancing and took a shooting stance. He’d used a good portion of his magazine on the drone and centered his muzzle on Mackay holding the trigger down until he ran dry. April had to credit him with fearlessness even if it was stupid. He dropped the empty magazine and was trying to insert another when Mackay reached and grabbed the muzzle of his rifle.

He had a bad grip holding the weapon one-handed trying to insert a magazine, and Mackay was not only gene-modified for extra strength, but wearing powered armor. He ripped the gun easily from the man’s hand and smashed it on the pavement. The first blow cracked the buttstock off in pieces; the second broke the receiver from the barrel. The small box of an optical sight went flying off detached. Jerking the weapon from his hands pulled the gunman off balance so he sprawled on his belly. When he turned, Mackay’s chest and helmet visor were smeared with streaks of bright copper and gray lead.

“I’ll detain this guy. You call the car back and take Irwin to a different hotel. I’ll catch up later,” Mackay said. When the fellow tried to get up Mackay put a foot on his butt and shoved him back down. Irwin cut the video when their car pulled back to the curb and they turned to go to it.

“What was that he was shooting?” April wondered.

“I don’t know. Some sort of automatic rifle. I suppose if you cut an image of it you’ll get a match off a search. We are at the New Grand Pillows still downtown not far from where we intended to stay. Mackay said he might be awhile talking to the authorities. I’ll admit it left me rattled a little bit,” Irwin said.

“I’m glad you’re OK. I hear them cutting power so we’re close to landing. I’ll talk to you later after we lift,” April promised.

“That is most disturbing,” Joel said, “but I’m informing my people I’ve seen the video and it appears the act of a deranged individual.”

The car sat down harder than they expected and the sudden silence was shocking.

“That’s good but I doubt security professionals will back off on a preliminary ‘it appears’ basis. Why don’t we say goodbye now and you stay in the car? Keep your people happy and give Mylène our thanks for your hospitality,” Jeff suggested.

“I shall, and you are welcome to call on it any time,” Joel said.

They had their restraints off as quickly as the captain, so he only needed to offer them a hand to pull them out of the deep seats. April patted Joel’s hand in passing and there was already someone outside the open hatch to help them down. Bellinger was already in the lift with a soft bag and a couple of foamboard boxes. He looked as rattled as Joel had, but obviously still intended to lift with them.

“Good morning, Monsieur,” April said, as cool as could be. If anything, her calm left him less assured than a little concern would have. “Have you had any breakfast? We were told you have been waiting from quite early in the morning.”

“The security people shared a breakfast of hot sandwiches and coffee once they were satisfied I was an authorized person, thank you,” Herman said.

April nodded as they lifted. “I’m glad. I’ll start some coffee as part of waking up the ship. We’ll be long enough setting up transitions and matching velocities with Home to enjoy it before we arrive. Did you bring a pressure suit?” April asked since he was in street clothes.

“I’ve never owned a personal suit,” Bellinger said a little surprised. “It was always supplied as part of the project as much as the ship. I suppose that’s one more thing I’ll have to acquire and get used to being different.”

“Probably one of the minor adjustments,” April warned him.

* * *

The police were exceedingly polite, but Mackay had experience in police work himself, having worked as station security on ISSII for some years. The courtesy was more easily explained by the fact that they’d just had demonstrated that Mackay was invulnerable to small arms fire, and it was terribly inconvenient to bring anti-tank weapons to bear on a prisoner deep inside police headquarters. He was pretty sure he was a prisoner. He was in an interrogation room and there was no reason to keep him and not release him if he wasn’t a prisoner. He’d already released a copy of his helmet cams to them and made a statement. That there was any delay in politely showing him to the door now was suspect.

The door opened and a man in an expensive suit joined the uniformed officer on the opposite side of the table.

“Mr. Christian, I am Adrian Mertens, Director of Cooperation under the General Commissioner’s office of the Federal Police.”

“Cooperation with what?” Mackay asked.

“With other police agencies and organizations such as Interpol,” Mertens said.

“I see. Well, if you need to contact Home Police our Head of Security is Jon Davis. He can verify I’m not a wanted person if you have any concerns that way.”

“Are you an officer of his force?” Mertens inquired.

“I am not. However, I am a member of the Home Militia. Jon has a dual office and is head of the Militia too if you want to regard this as a military matter.”

“I’m not sure how to regard you,” Mertens admitted. “I’m seeking clarification from my superiors. In either case, we do not appreciate outside forces operating within our jurisdiction whether police, military, or simply mercenaries. I’m going to keep you in custody until these matters are resolved.”

“Does your concern extend to my partner and the gentleman we are charged with protecting?” Mackay asked. He could exude saccharine politeness too.

“Again, that’s a matter for my superiors to determine and tell me,” Mertens claimed.

“That creates a problem,” Mackay told him. “My partner and I were charged with protecting Mr. Hall while he conducts his business on Earth. He just was released from an unlawful detention in North America. It seems a failure of our duty to allow him to become the prisoner of another Earth nation.”

“Who charged you with this duty?” Mertens asked.

“We are employed by verbal contracts with Jeffrey Singh and April Lewis. They are both citizens of Home and Central. By extension, since they are peers of the Sovereign of Central you are engaging not only with sovereign citizens of Home such as myself, but with Lord Singh and Lady Lewis of Central,” Mackay warned him. “It becomes political.”

“I suppose that means something in the heavens,” Mertens said dismissively.

“I need to understand if you have a specific criminal complaint against us. All I’ve heard so far is you don’t like us because you see us as encroaching on your authority. I’m not growing any fonder of you by the minute either, but I don’t have an inflated opinion of myself to imagine that dislike is actionable.”

“I can hold you on weapons charges,” Mertens assured him.

Mackay just stared at him a moment trying to think how he could rationalize that.

“We were given leave to be armed in France, but cased our weapons under seal when we left France,” Mackay said. “We only had Air Tasers and were assured they were legal for private security in all European jurisdictions. In fact, if you examine my suit video, of which I gave you a copy, you’ll see I never activated those Tasers.”

“Yes, but when you subdued your assailant you took possession of his weapon briefly before you destroyed it. Simple possession is illegal regardless of the duration of possession or your intent in doing so,” Mertens said. “Your associates can be charged as active accomplices in that act.”

“This is dishonest. You are framing mischief by perverting your own law when you know there was no criminal intent. You force my hand by threatening my charge,” Mackay said, “I judge this has become a hostage situation. I have been sharing this interview with my partner. I’m instructing him to take Mr. Hall and leave your jurisdiction.”

“This room has wireless blocking,” Mertens said. “You may have been transmitting but your associate won’t have received anything.”

“We’ve been chatting back and forth,” Mackay said.”Our armor carries sufficient power to maintain contact through satellites on non-standard frequencies. Just to make it clear, it’s now a mutual hostage situation. You are not free to leave this room until I receive word my partner and our charge are safe across your border.”

“Then you add kidnapping to the charges against you,” Mertens said.

Mackay had to hand it to him. He didn’t look concerned at all. The junior officer with him didn’t look so comfortable. It was stupid of them. If they had asked him to step out of his armor and surrender on any reasonable basis he’d have complied. They could have asked him to answer to littering for the scattered rifle parts while leaving Otis and Irwin out of it and he’d have meekly complied, letting others sort it out in good time. Not now.

Chapter 25

After April offered a generic emergency pressure suit and Bellinger declined, she made sure he understood how the mechanisms around his couch would move and warning him to keep his arms inside. She set his screen to show what was happening, but not accept inputs. April then strapped in and informed Jeff they were both ready.

“Macron departure, this is Dionysus’ Chariot of Home registry, Jeffery Singh commanding with April Lewis second and a passenger on your number three X pad. I’d like to request a vertical lift out of your controlled airspace and request Earth Control clearance to LEO per flight plan being transmitted now.” Jeff punched a square on his screen. The proposed return flight was pretty much the reverse of his entry path.

“Dionysus’ Chariot, we were instructed by our civilian authority to hold your departure path clear of traffic until you have cleared our control. We are handing you off to Earth Control direct. Depart at their clearance. Macron departure releases you.”

“Thank you, Macron,” Jeff switched frequencies.

“Earth Control, this is Dionysus’ Chariot on final count to lift. Do you clear me for LEO as filed?” Jeff asked. He didn’t give license numbers. They were on his arrival flight plan and they could ask if they wanted to be picky.

“Earth Control, hold five minutes, Dionysus’ Chariot. We have an objection from Ankara Control Center that their military is overriding civilian release. They object to your over-flight and threaten they will fire on your passage at any altitude. We have no control over sovereign states and can only inform you of their cooperation or refusal.”

“Holding for five as requested. You mean the bloody Persians aren’t threatening us today too?” Jeff asked. “I tell you what. Just to show what a reasonable fellow I am we’ll refile. Note please I am aiming due east and will not pass over Turkey or Persia. I’ll correct for lunar inclination outside your control volume. Please advise me if anyone new raises objections to our passage. I’m uploading a new profile at two minutes into your hold.”

Jeff waited a few seconds to make it exactly on the minute tick and touched the screen to give them an altered flight plan. Nobody had requested a radar transponder change.

Earth Control waited a full minute to give local controllers an opportunity to object. The only one Jeff was really worried about was Russia. They might very well own beam weapons.

“Dionysus’ Chariot, there are no objections to your revised profile. You are cleared to lift at the end of your hold. Earth Control out.”

“What have we ever done to Turkey?” Jeff asked in a lower voice like he was speaking to crew, but with the mike hot. He touched the screen for the ship to auto-launch.

Exactly at the minute tick, the Chariot lifted and ramped up to a moderate six g.

Bellinger hadn’t been warned he would not feel the full acceleration. It had to be a wonder to him, and the uneven nature of it tugging differently on legs and torso made it obvious it was artificial. To his credit, he didn’t chatter casually on the command circuit.

Dionysus’ Chariot rolled on its back giving them a lovely view of approaching Asia with very little cloud cover but far off to the north today.

“Launch on radar,” April said, “out of the water, uh, Black Sea there.”

“Note the launch site, please. I have contrails visually,” he confirmed. “Radar active?”

“No radar shows from that location,” April said. “It’s probably a submarine launch from a shallow depth. Which means they will only be terminally guided.”

“Vectoring towards us. It’s a hostile intercept,” April said. “Can you duck under it?”

“No, we’re going too fast now.”

“Target is resolving to two vehicles,” April said. “Put interceptors on auto?”

“Stopping two for two is a bad bet,” Jeff said. “I’m going to do that thing we talked about.” He reached up and keyed a series of commands in the screen leaving one square glowing yellow.

“Aye,” April said. Now was a really bad time to argue.

“You have time. Drop a layered bombardment on the launch coordinates,” Jeff said.

“Commanding orbital assets,” April confirmed fingers dancing. The white line rising to meet them was moving way too fast for her taste. Two were now clearly visible slightly separated. Soon they would turn west at their level to meet them head-on.

“Done,” April called out as soon as her board confirmed.

Jeff reached up in no seeming hurry and touched the yellow square.

The curve of the Earth and the white lines racing at them disappeared. The sudden black was a shock to the eyes. In the back, Bellinger choked out a string of French in a tone that bordered on hysteria. April didn’t know any of the words and suspected she didn’t want to.

“Well, that’s interesting,” Jeff said. “I thought it would work.”

“Unlike the time you didn’t think it would work,” April said. She had an accusing tone.

“You’ve never done that before?” Bellinger asked.

“Not where there was still any air,” Jeff said. “I mean, it was still a pretty decent vacuum by some standards, but you wouldn’t want to orbit there. You’d see your orbit degrade in a day from the drag. We didn’t have enough velocity to orbit anyway, but you see what I mean.” He was keying in something and the ship did an auto-flip and a distant Earth rolled back into view with the Moon off-center to the right.

“But not too much air to push out of the way?” Bellinger asked.

“They really didn’t explain it well,” Jeff said. “You don’t go through it. You are here, and then you are there. But we will have dragged a bit of air along with us. I’m trying to jump back but just a little short. It isn’t that precise but I’d like to see April’s strike.”

“The missiles won’t remain a hazard?”

“We’re going to be higher, behind them, and have the sub-orbital velocity we did at a lower level, so we’ll actually be moving slightly retrograde. In any case, they should have burnt out and auto-destructed by now. Here we go.”

The arch of the horizon appeared again and Jeff turned the ship nose towards the Earth and rotated it on the long axis.

“You see? Up is north. We’re east of the Black Sea over there to the left, instead of it being ahead like before. We’re drifting towards it. Not quite as close as I wanted but good enough. We aren’t really orbiting and we’ll start to fall but not so fast we can’t deal with it.”

There were still some remnants of exhaust trail to be seen lower, but the wind shear was breaking the lines up and it was much harder to see them from a higher altitude.

“How long?” Jeff asked.

“Just seconds…” There was a flash and a long smear of orange flame spread an expanding shape over the sea hiding the remnants of the rocket exhaust. It cooled quickly to gray and then got a roiled pearlescent gleam.

“That’s to blind their radar if they surfaced. Three incoming,” April promised.

A flash came through the cloud.

“That was surface bursts at the three points of a triangle five kilometers apart. They were about ten kilotons so they’d have to be a lucky shot to actually kill the target. If they can launch anti-ballistic missiles from under the calcium cloud that should mess things up long enough. If they were surfaced it might even damage them. I doubt they can effectively shoot and run at the same time under those conditions.”

“More likely they are already diving deep,” Bellinger said. “Long enough for what?”

The silvery cloud suddenly lit brilliant white from below, bright enough to shock the eyes briefly before the viewports auto-darkened. The glow faded briefly and then an orange hot ball of incandescent gas rose through the artificial cloud, cooling to red and then a dirty dark purple and gray mass that spread out as it slowed.

“I doubt you can dive deep enough from that,” Bellinger said.

“Probably not,” April agreed. “The three suppressive devices aren’t made to penetrate water. The big one was set to sink a hundred meters before detonating. Water is much more effective at transmitting the shock than air.”

“That was uncalled for after I altered my path to accommodate them,” Jeff complained.

“You don’t know it was Turkey,” April insisted.

“Perhaps not, I have a suspicious mind,” Jeff admitted.

“Will that raise a tsunami?” Bellinger worried.

“Heavens no,” Jeff said surprised. “That will make a wave, but indistinguishable from natural waves. It might be a half-meter or less. A natural tsunami takes a lot of energy.”

“Somebody just lost a very expensive submarine. I count that a sufficient message even if we never know who received it,” April said.

“Chen could probably find out for you,” Jeff speculated. “There are only so many submarines and one going missing is a big deal.”

“Let it go,” April decided. “I’d feel obligated to respond.”

“I hope there wasn’t any other traffic too close,” Bellinger said.

“Me too, but if you start shooting at people the responsibility for bystanders is on you. Back in the war, North America shot at us from a carrier sitting at dock in Japan. We holed it and sank it right in the harbor. It breached the reactor and made a mess. The Japanese apologized to us for letting it happen from their territory. That caused a sharp decline in relations with North America.”

The ship turned away from the Earth.

“I’m jumping out until we can see the moon. Then I’m going to jump behind it in lunar orbit and get a radar reading off the surface to see what our real velocity adds up to after all these maneuvers. It will be receding from us and I’ll chase it and take us to Home from there without another jump. I’ll hold an easy one g burn so we can have some coffee. There should be some frozen breakfast sandwiches to heat. I’m a little hollow already so I know April is too. Would you like a bite, Herman?”

“I’m not as inured to wildly jumping about the universe and conducting nuclear war as you. I believe I’ll pass on eating anything until some of the adrenaline wears off, thank you.”

“Coffee coming up,” April said, “and four sandwiches to gently heat. They get rubbery if you hurry them and I have some second-tier messages to read that I was too busy to look at.”

* * *

“What a crock of crap,” April said out loud.

Herman Bellinger didn’t react much, not knowing April. He sipped his coffee and looked politely interested. He was used to people expressing themselves like April just had for a silly commercial or a pompous political ad. Jeff, knowing her, was the one who looked worried.

“Anything I can help you with, dear?” he asked concerned.

“No, I have a com connection and my weapons board is still live,” April said.

Even Bellinger looked worried when he added those statements up.

“My man Mackay informs me the Belgian Federal police have arrested him and want to charge him with weapons possession for disarming an assailant and smashing his gun on the pavement. Since they refuse to say they won’t include Otis and Irwin as accomplices he has taken a senior level Director of Federal Police and a lesser officer hostage in their interrogation room pending safe passage of Irwin to a safe destination.”

“How can he have them hostage in their own interrogation room?” Herman asked.

“He’s still armored up,” April said. “Without the armor, he’s gene mod strong and could wring his neck like a chicken. With the armor, he could trivially twist his head off. That was incredibly stupid to progress to threats without coaxing him out of the armor.”

“May I suggest? You should tell your employee it isn’t sufficient to remove the subject of his charge from Belgium. The Federal Police can demand him back from any European nation,” Herman warned her.

“Not really independent nations then, are they?” April said. “I’ll tell him to direct them to England now and see to his release if I can. Excuse me for a couple of minutes. Give Jeff his sandwich if you hear it ding, please. I don’t trust myself not to ramble and repeat when I’m angry so I’m writing a script to follow.”

When there was a bell from the back of the cabin Herman quietly retrieved their food.

In a few minutes, she warned them she was recording. They stayed quiet for her.

Hello Earth. This is April Lewis of Home again with a press release. You may have seen some communications I directed at North America recently. They didn’t listen at all, so I needed to deliver some stronger messages ballistically.

This message, however, is directed at Europe and your stupid little Union of myopic bureaucrats. We just left France, changing our flight plan to accommodate Turkey raising objections to our passage and still got shot at from the Black Sea. I’m getting very tired of having Earthies shoot at us. My web search tells me Turkey, who objected to our passing, is in a defense compact with the European states. You are all under a cloud of suspicion with me at this point.

We just rescued Irwin Hall from North America only to find the Belgian Federal Police have now arrested his security and threatened him with trumped-up charges.

I used up all my patience with North America the last couple weeks trying to pry Mr. Hall loose from them. It’s Belgium and Europe’s bad luck I just have no patience left for them.

I’m tired. If my two security men and Irwin Hall aren’t safely in England and free in twenty-four hours from right now, a state of war will exist between us. I won’t politely do some minor damage to show I’m serious. We’ll go straight to removing entire military bases and seats of government. Europe is what you call a target-rich environment.

It is now up to you what you want to do. Don’t talk at me because I’m past giving a damn about what any Earthie says. Either I hear from them that they are safe or I drop a world of hurt on you in a day. End of message.

“Damn it, now I’m too upset to eat,” April said glaring at the sandwiches.

* * *

The officer that joined them in the interrogation room was uniformed but wore no sidearm. Mackay took that for a good sign.

“Regisseur Mertens? Die Anleitung, die Sie von Kommissar Horgan angefordert haben,” he said handing him a sheet. The other seated officer leaned to look.

Mertens looked eager and took it with a smile that slowly turned into a rictal grimace.

Mackay reached across and plucked it from the man’s hand. It was in German.

“I caught it was from the Commissioner,” Mackay said, “but my German is mostly useless past ‘Weinersnitchel und ein bier’. Could you translate?”

“Director Mertens served at the Commissioner’s pleasure,” the officer said in clipped unhappy tones. “It no longer pleasures him. This says his services are no longer needed, not to return to his office. Any personal items will be returned and he should surrender any department property in his possession to me. His car and driver are recalled and I am to call him an auto car if he needs one. The Commissioner says he would have him arrested and charged, but on a careful search, there does not appear to be any statute against stupidity.

“It is not in his letter, but I am to expedite your removal by military transport to England and offer such courtesies as are customary among civilized persons. It there anything I can do to make your journey any less disagreeable?”

“Son, if you’d just show me to a restroom that’s all I need before we go.”

* * *

An icon on April’s screen indicated she had messages through her com account.

“Well that’s better, maybe,” she said and started peeling a sandwich from its wrapper. That said things were better more than words.

April had a couple of bites before she explained.

“Mackay says they are escorting him to transport and a flight to England if it isn’t a trick. He’s as paranoid is me now. But he’ll keep giving me updates until he is safe. He relayed that Otis and Irwin left Belgium before they could offer to facilitate their exit and have bought private transportation to England. Irwin has given up on conducting any business on Earth and says any investors can come to him on Home instead.”

“Those have to be dead cold,” Herman said. “Do you want to have them heated a little?”

April looked at the sandwich. “My mind was elsewhere. They’re really not bad. Heather says she has some supplies for the Martians and we need to do several two-ship drops with one ship flying cover and a pickup. She didn’t give any details. If she doesn’t say it’s probably too sensitive to say on com with conventional encryption. She hates to set up and use up a onetime pad,” April said. “I’m hot to fly that and be done with it.”

“We’ll speak to her soon enough,” Jeff said. “It sounds a little complicated if it involves multiple trips and I can’t imagine what we would pick up all the stuff promised there in one trip. They will dole it out on each delivery expecting we are as crooked as they are. All these things take time and you don’t need to be in a rush.”

“Maybe another rescue too?” April said thinking of the evacuees.

“By Heather instead of you? That would be different, wouldn’t it?” Jeff said. “If you just have to find out we could go there first I suppose.”

“How would you like to visit the Moon?” April asked Herman.

“I’ve been to the lunar Marseilles, but I was so busy with the launch I didn’t see much. Marseilles is very French in character, so what I did see wasn’t that different. I suppose Central is like a different country?” he guessed. “Is it more American like Home?”

“It’s a madhouse,” Jeff supplied.

Herman shrugged. “It’s not like I have a new job with a start date waiting for me. I thought I was retired early and then you two completely disrupted my life. I’m free to go anywhere, to the Moon, to the stars, wherever you want.”

Jeff nodded agreeably. “All in good time.”

The End

The Last Part

Other Kindle Books & Links by Mackey Chandler

April (first of ten in series)

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0077EOE2C

April is an exceptional young lady and something of a snoop. She finds herself involved with intrigues that stretch her abilities, after a chance run in with a spy. There is a terrible danger she and her friends and family will lose the only home she has ever known in orbit and be forced to live on the slum ball below. It's more than a teen should have to deal with. Fortunately she has a lot of smart friends and allies, who give them a thin technological edge in rebellion. It's a good thing, because things get very rough and dicey.

Down to Earth (sequel to April)

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007RGBIVK

April seems to make a habit of rescues. Now two lieutenants from the recent war appeal to her for help to reach Home. The secret they hold makes their escape doubtful. North America, the United States of North America, has been cheating on their treaty obligations and a public figure like April taking a very visible vacation there would be a good way to remind them of their obligations. Wouldn't it? Her family and business associates all think it is a great idea. She can serve a public purpose and do her rescue on the sly too. But things get difficult enough just getting back Home alive is going to be a challenge. It's a good thing she has some help. Why does everything have to be so complicated?

Family Law (First of four in series.) Also as audiobooks.

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B006GQSZVS

Who is family? Who should decide? Should it be a matter of law? Could an alien adopt a Human?

Of course if the 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

Table of Contents

- All in Good Time
- Mackay Chandler
- Cover by Sara Hoyt
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- The End