Spheres of Influence

by Bob Mauldin

  Astonishment washed over Lloyd’s and Rukia’s faces “God! What did you promise ‘em?” Lloyd asked.

  “Plastics,” Lucy said simply. It turned out that one of the things no one had ever thought of was what the Japanese wanted to produce. And, upon reflection, it made perfect sense. A plastic that was almost as tough as steel, lightweight, durable, almost impervious to damage, and extremely heat- and cold-resistant had been used aboard ship to make seat cushions, tabletop covers and balloons for Z-tag. The Japanese took one look at it and saw the potential inherent in such a substance for use in everyday life. Of course, they were already involved in the processes of miniaturization in almost all parts of the Alliance.

  She’d been looking for a trade with the Japanese. They had, after all, provided a nice place not far from Tokyo Bay for the embassy site and then proceeded to build an embassy building that was loosely modeled on the Swiss building but with a flavor to it that allowed it to fit into the existing architectural styles around it. Giving them the plastics concessions should allow her to ask another favor. It had been determined long ago that the Builders hadn’t gone in for miniaturization. Now was a good time to upgrade some of their own technology by melding it with Earth-based advances.

  Information flows both ways, she thought.

  “That’s not so bad.” Rukia said. “We can still use the antigrav with the Germans, right?”

  “No, I was going to use that to mollify the Americans,” Lucy said with a sigh.

  “But the Germans were expecting that,” Lloyd said, confusion in his voice.

  “But they’ll be satisfied with the superconductor technology,” Lucy said wearily. “Just like the Chinese will take the solar cell technology. The British will get something else, and everybody gets a piece of the pie,” she finished sarcastically. “Somebody shoot me. I’ve turned into a fucking politician!”

  Uneasy laughter at this pronouncement was interrupted by Lucy’s valet, Lt. Diana Ross. “Ma’am, you asked to be reminded that the baron’s car will be here in one hour.”

  “Thanks, Diana,” she said, standing. “Out of the frying pan and into the fire, and all that stuff.”

  “Wait a minute! What about the Japanese embassy? Are there any details?” Lloyd asked.

  “Oh, yes.” Lucy stopped before heading to her bedroom door. “News. We leave for Tokyo in three days.” She looked at Rukia, “Will that leave you enough time to get us packed and ready for a week or so?”

  “With Diana’s help, no problem at all,” Rukia replied, nonplussed. “Who’s going?”

  “You, me, and Lloyd for sure. I figured on a few others for effect and a couple of Mambas with their pilots, of course—all armed. And later, a core staff of engineers.” The policy of going armed outside the embassy grounds had evolved over the past few months as Alliance personnel increasingly found themselves accosted on city streets and in shops. Having their weapons visibly strapped to their thighs tended to keep away all but the most persistent. Japanese officialdom had balked at that particular proviso but backed down when Lucy made it clear that it was a safety issue and not a matter for negotiation.

  “What about me?” Lloyd asked. “Surely you’ve got something more in mind.”

  “Oh, indeed, I do,” Lucy said, the smile finally coming back to her face. “Ladies, meet the new temporary head of the Alliance Embassy, Zurich.”

  Emotions flowed across his face almost too fast to follow. “You can’t... I’m not...” he sputtered.

  “You can and you will, Lloyd,” she said authoritatively. “And that’s what you get for laughing at me when Freddie explained my situation!” Having accomplished half of her admittedly childish payback plan, she pulled the door closed behind her as she headed for the shower.

  Lloyd stared at the door. “She had her back to me, and I only smiled! How did she know?” He turned on Kimura. “You told her, didn’t you?”

  “Hell, no! I was grinning so hard my face hurt! Ratting you out would have been implicating me, you idiot. Besides, I didn’t think of it,” she finished lamely. “Oh, shit. If this is what she does to you, what’s going to happen to me?”

  “Like you’re so much better than me,” Lloyd groused. “She probably didn’t see you, or she’d have found a way to get to you, too!”

  Baron Manfred von Schlenker’s long black example of extravagant decadence pulled up at nine o’clock to carry Lucy to the castle. Tonight’s soiree had no special theme, but Lucy wore her ball gown anyway. For some reason she couldn’t get the thought of Cinderella out of her mind, and she smiled to herself. Maggie had commented that the white material gave her a more vibrant look than her customary duty blacks, and that the gold highlights complemented her hair. Whatever that means, she thought on the short ride to the castle.

  The intervening three months since the opening of the Zurich Embassy had dulled the immediacy of news about Alliance activities on Earth. Volunteer applicants walked into the Alliance building daily and came back out, volunteer employees worked there daily and went home at night, and crewmembers from the various ships in orbit came and went in the streets of Zurich. Alliance personnel occasionally visited a nearby ski lodge for a day on the slopes. Of course, the media had now spoken to almost all the family members of all Alliance members.

  Since crew lists had been published with the nearly unanimous approval of all Alliance personnel (this was one thing Lucy refused to dictate), every talk show host, news commentator, and radio personality were trying to get the “true story.” The media had finally been saturated with Alliance news, and only things of real importance reached the nightly news shows.

  Tonight would be one of those nights. Freddie had given her a guest roster before she’d left earlier in the day. It included the Japanese Ambassador to Switzerland (with whom she still felt uncomfortable after the toast incident), a dozen wealthy businessmen from around the world, and a smattering of officials from some of the major nations. Chief among those on the list were Virgil Collins from the U.S. State Department and a name she recognized—Brandon Galway listed, she noticed with amusement, as the representative of the Deputy Minister of the Interior.

  Can you be arrested for impersonating a politician? Probably. But they’d send you to the loony bin instead of jail. She giggled at her joke and stepped out as the chauffeur opened the door to the flashes of cameras and the shouting of questions, which she no longer heard.

  No longer a novice at these kinds of entrances, Lucy waved to the crowds on both sides as she marched up the steps. There would be the obligatory photo op after the “beautiful people” had finished with her.

  Lucy had lost track of the times she’d traveled these steps now and had come to know the footmen by name. “Good evening, Georg. How’s your father?”

  “Just fine, Lady Lucille. Looking forward to summer. Claims he can feel the cold in his bones, but he won’t let us move him. Obstinate, as usual.”

  “Sometimes parents can be that way, Georg. If he starts to hurt badly enough, he’ll move,” she predicted.

  She moved across the foyer and onto the balcony serving the main floor. Hello, Robert,” she said to the pike man at the top of the stairs, and then, “Good evening, Thom,” to the pike man who announced visitors.

  “Good evening, Lady Lucille,” came back in stereo.

  “If you would be so good as to announce me, Thom?”

  Lucy began the walk down the stairs that let everyone gawk at whomever the newcomer happened to be.

  Like a fly on a plate, she thought behind the phony smile plastered on her face. Why didn’t I bring someone else with me? ‘Cause I’m stupid, that’s why!

  She spent the next ten minutes saying generic nothings to people she’d never meet again. After a time, she made her way to the side of the room where Freddie, whom she hadn’t seen since she reached the bottom of the stairs, waved her over.

  “Gentlemen, allow me present Lady Lucille Grimes, First Captain
of The Terran Alliance. Captain Grimes, Mr. Lee and a few of his associates. I beg your indulgence, but I have someone I must see right away.”

  The baron seemed as if he was asking permission to leave, but he was gone before Lucy could even raise a hand in what could be construed as dismissal. She turned back to the Texan, slightly annoyed. “Let me guess, you want to pay for the right to get first crack at some of our technology, correct, Mr. Lee, is it?”

  “Yes, ma’am, Aaron Bidwell Lee of the Virginia Lees.” At her raised eyebrow, he added, “Our particular branch of the family found it advantageous to relocate for a time after the War. (He pronounced it Waw-wuh, and his inflection left no doubt to which Waw-wuh he was referring.) We moved to Pennsylvania because our politics didn’t coincide with the rest of the family’s. That’s where we got into oil. Then we moved on down into Texas at the turn of the century where we’ve been in the same business for the last hundred years,” he said proudly.

  “And just how can I help you, Mr. Lee?” she asked more tartly than she would have liked.

  “Well, now, ma’am, I’m sure you’ve been approached every way there is, but we have to make our pitch so to speak,” Lee said. “My friends and I want to say that we are perfectly willing to pay whatever we must to get the rights to produce some of your technology for Earthly things. I know I’m not saying it right, but we’ve never really had to consider this scenario have we, boys?

  “The truth of the matter is that rumors are flying faster than a hummingbird about the fact that oil will very soon become a thing of the past, and we want in on the ground floor of whatever is going to replace it. Here’s the thing,” he said, apparently the spokesman for the group, “we want to get in on this antigravity stuff. Since the oil market is going into the toilet, we need to produce something that will keep us afloat in a changing world, and antigravity looks like it could be the Microsoft of the twenty-first century. Yes, of course there’s money in it, for us and for your Alliance, Captain,” he said speaking so fast that his accent all but disappeared. “Remember, money isn’t a bad thing if you have enough of it.”

  “I believe you’re getting ahead of yourself, Mr. Lee,” Lucy said. “We still haven’t come to a firm agreement with most of the major governments of the world on just what to release and to whom, especially the United States. We still haven’t forgiven you for three murders, an abduction, and the loss of Captain Katherine Hawke, who’s still encased in some kind of suspended animation.”

  “Perhaps that’s because some people are too shortsighted to see what it will take to get this project moving so the most people benefit while the least suffer, First Captain Grimes,” said a voice from behind her.

  She turned halfway around to the speaker. “And you have the answer to this Gordian Knot, Mr….?”

  “Collins, First Captain. Virgil Collins, U.S. State Department. And this is my associate—”

  “Brandon Galway,” Lucy finished in time with Collins. “We’ve met. I see you’ve been promoted to the Interior, Brandon. Congratulations.”

  “Here today, gone tomorrow,” Brandon demurred. “I hear good things about you, too, Lucy.”

  “Then you aren’t hearing them from American sources!” Nervous laughter rolled through the group. “Brandon and I are friendly adversaries, gentlemen. Don’t let us ruin your night.” She turned back to the newcomer. “Since you made your statement in front of these gentlemen, Mr. Collins, I assume they’d be welcome at a private discussion in the Baron’s study? There’s no need not to be comfortable while we bounce this around.”

  When Collins nodded his agreement, Lucy led the group to the understated door that opened onto the baron’s library. Causing no end of ruffled feathers, she stood to one side, holding the door open while the group passed within. Before doing so herself, she looked out at the crowd. Freddie, regaling a group of women, gave a small thumbs-up at her, and she pulled the door closed.

  “Brandon, would you be kind enough to pour drinks for us? Make mine scotch. I’m not driving tonight,” Lucy said as she entered the group of men trying to sort themselves into chairs. The jockeying for an advantageous position was almost comical to watch, especially since she herself hadn’t landed anywhere yet.

  “See here, First Captain!” Collins exclaimed in disapproval.

  “All right, Mr. Collins, since we don’t seem to have any servants around us and you don’t want me ordering Brandon around, how about you doing it for him?” Lucy asked as she slipped into what had become her favorite chair in the room. Positioned so that it afforded a nice view of the Alps during the daylight hours, it also allowed its occupant to see almost the entire room at a glance, and it was also sink-up-to-your-eyeballs comfortable.

  “No, no,” he demurred. “Just not used to having someone else order my staff around, is all.”

  Hiding the ghost of a smile behind her hand, Lucy said, “I believe you’ll find several kinds of spirits on the sideboard, Brandon. And the baron serves some of the finest coffee in the world. At least, that’s what this country girl from Ohio thinks.”

  “So, Mr. Collins,” she asked politely, “just what did you mean by your statements out on the ballroom floor?”

  “I think Mr. Lee would be better able to answer that one, First Captain. After all, it was his idea in the first place.”

  “Just ‘captain’ will do in private, Mr. Collins. But how about you go first. After all it was you who opened your mouth to try to salvage the situation.”

  “Captain,” Lee said smoothly, “it really would save more time if I started this off as Mr. Collins is only slightly briefed on the situation. The way we see it is that you should have local people, that is non-governmental persons, doing the actual production of the items, whatever they are. We, the locals, already have the supply lines in place and the distribution network to send finished goods off to whatever markets you choose. If you make the government do it, any government, they would have to build all the infrastructure again. Sure, the government has those things in place now, but they’re geared to military matters. This is directly in the private sector’s province.”

  “How so?” Lucy asked, nodding at Brandon as he handed her a cut-glass container with at least two fingers of amber liquid.

  “All I can say at the moment, not knowing what the project would be, is that if you gave us an item to build and the plans to build it, we could start the process, sometimes the same day. We’d just make a call to our suppliers and the material would be on the way. The problem is if, and when, we have to retool a plant or build an entirely new structure. At that point, the government would guarantee ridiculously low loans to get us set up,” Lee said, looking at Collins for confirmation.

  Lucy, seeing him nod, motioned for Lee to continue. “All of this would employ the same people we’ve used all along until we get to new production. More jobs there. The new plants go online. More jobs there. We produce a new widget or whatever to replace an old one, and you have new jobs coexisting beside old ones. And since the older widgets are no longer useful, there would be less call for them and their makers would be transferred over to the new item, providing a steady labor pool for the steadily increasing new widget market. Minimal loss of jobs, minimal impact to the economy. Very little cash outlay for the government, and they get their cut right off the top in taxes.”

  “Sounds good on the face of it, Mr. Lee, but I’ll have to run it past a few people who know how to find loopholes in such things.”

  Brandon, finished with his drink chore, sat down with a beer and said, “You should look at this proposal real close, Lucy. It’s one of the better ideas to come down the pipe. Most of the others are top heavy in favor of the government concerned.”

  Collins, trying to appear on top of things but getting further behind all the time, said, “If it means anything, Captain, Mr. Galway here is one of the initial proponents of this plan.”

  “I’ll take it under advisement, Mr. Collins, I pro
mise. The disbursement of technology is one of our primary goals here, along with not inconveniencing anyone any more than necessary.”

  “Can we inquire as to what other things concern you, Captain?” Lee asked. “Maybe we can help—a mutual assistance pact, so to speak.”

  “Well,” Lucy said speculatively, “we’re going to have three ships in orbit in about three months. That’s another, oh, twelve hundred personnel we’re going to need. A few months after that, Taurus Base as we call it, comes online. That’s another thousand or so there. And, of course, there’s Project Vesta. An unknown number will be needed to fill that one out, and it won’t be in the hundreds, I assure you.” She appeared to think for a few seconds. “Most of our problems are personnel-related, Mr. Lee, but I believe we’ll have that wrapped up shortly. You’ve heard, I’m sure, that the Alliance has an announcement to make?” At Lee’s nod, Lucy went on. “Find a comfortable spot, gentlemen. In about an hour, all will be made clear.”

  The meeting broke up, and Lucy made her way back to the main ballroom. She wandered around for a time, talking quietly with one person then another, waiting for the hour to end. She ran into Galway on the way to the top of the staircase. “Sure it’s a good idea to be seen with the enemy, Brandon?” Lucy gibed.

  “I’ll take my chances. I’ve already been painted with the same brush once, so a second time can’t be that much worse. What’s the big announcement? I surely can’t tell anyone in time to derail anything.”

  “Even if you’re wearing a wire, what’s ten minutes?’ she said and shrugged. “I’m going to announce, with the Japanese ambassador standing beside me, that the final hurdles to building a Japanese embassy near Tokyo have been removed. I’ll be going to Japan in about three days to inspect the site. Then, we’ll have another source of volunteers for those new ships I told you about a while ago. And none of those volunteers are going to be American. That’s because, of course,” Lucy said biting off each word, “your people won’t get off their collective asses. The future is about to leave America behind, Brandon. Acting now will put an end to that prophecy. Don’t wait too long.”