Friends in the Stars

by Mackey Chandler

  A quick call to room service fixed that and possibly saved Jeff’s life. They had a huge urn of coffee on a cart at the entry almost as soon as the coffee maker had a full pot.

  “I was trying not to bang around,” Jeff said, almost apologizing. “Is Derf hearing that keen or did you smell the coffee?” Jeff asked.

  Strangelove lowered the mug obscuring his face just long enough to say, “Yes.”

  He tilted it back to finish chugging it down. The second mug, Jeff noticed, got honey added and was savored much slower than the first, medicinal mug.

  “If clan Derf don’t get cash pay and the Mothers are cheap, I’m surprised you have a taste for star goods like coffee,” Jeff said.

  Strangelove held a single digit aloft to claim the floor to speak. It was a polite digit but firm. “First never say ‘cheap’ when speaking of the Mothers. They speak excellent English, much better than me with a full folio of idioms and even regional expressions and accents. The Third Mother can do high or low British, New England Yankee and Jamaican, which my ear can’t tell from the British. They will know when they are being insulted, and cheap is never a compliment in English. Frugal is even pushing it, but economically conservative would probably be taken as a compliment. In their minds, they are generous and open-handed to the point of spoiling us and risking privation and starvation of the clan the next fiscal year.”

  He lowered the digit to indicate he’d suffer interruption now.

  Jeff took advantage and asked, “How is it she would learn all those accents?”

  “Gossip about the Keep is that she is absolutely addicted to Human videos. What would be a shameful waste of time if I did it is ‘research’ for a Mother.

  “Furthermore, coffee is no longer star goods but grown locally. It must not be too bad compared to the homeworld stuff. My spies at the first table say Lee likes it just fine. If she can live here in the Old Hotel one may assume she could afford the real bean and probably does. This the hotel serves tastes the same as the local stuff to me. Did you find it palatable?”

  “Yes, I’ve had better, but rarely. The best Hawaiian or Jamaican in a good year is noticeably more flavorful, and a really good Ethiopian could give it a run in a blind taste test, but what is this about Lee living here? You didn’t tell me she lives in the hotel, not at the Red Tree enclave. I’d have thought it just convenient to have a town apartment in the Capital and main port.”

  “You didn’t ask where she lives, did you?” Strangelove asked, reasonably. “All Red Tree security people know she lives here, but she doesn’t take Red Tree security, just like the Foys and the Badger embassy. If you are going to contact her today, it will be easy to meet. You both have rooms suitable for a meeting or you can borrow one from the hotel or meet in a banquet room if you wish to offer hospitality. I’m not sure there is any way to connect on the floor. You each have an elevator in the center and a stairwell on the outside corner right by the doors to the balcony. There is a security door to the next level down. The corner balconies are separated by a huge gap. If you could reach across that you’d have the means to scale the façade of the building anyway.”

  “No roof access?” Jeff asked.

  “Not unless you can break into the service elevator,” Strangelove said.

  “I’ve sent s text to the Foys already,” Jeff said. “It is rather early. I was only off of the local clock about six hours but it was shifted the other way, so this isn’t as early to me. I requested a meeting with Lee and a couple of researchers she employs. Should I have invited Gordon? I don’t mean to offend either of them by excluding him.”

  “As it happens, I was told Gordon went home to Red tree, that’s just gossip you understand. Gordon is of interest, he’s entertaining really, to most of the clan.”

  “They seemed a package deal when I met them on the Moon,” Jeff said.

  “Gordon claims he is still raising Lee, but as with any youngster, she gradually does more things on her own. He still flew them to Providence recently. If I had anything as grand as a ship, I’d love to have Gordon fly it. He’s the best.”

  “So I’ve been told,” Jeff said.

  “This is good coffee,” Strangelove said returning to that topic, “but the honey really makes it. I usually have it with sugar, but I may ask my breakfast place why they don’t offer honey.”

  There was a small print-out discreetly tucked under the serving set platter and Strangelove, curious, pulled it out.

  Jeff wasn’t prepared for Strangelove to grasp his chest like a human in cardiac arrest. It seemed heartfelt rather than put on, because he had his claws fully extended. Jeff was impressed. He’d never seen them on full display, spread on his chest.

  “That is… outrageous,” Strangelove protested.

  Jeff asked by extending his hand, and Strangelove yielded the slip.

  “Yes, four hundred dollars Ceres for a hundred grams does seem a bit steep, but hotels always charge two or three times what independent restaurants would charge. So it must be star goods like I thought the coffee. The cream isn’t that cheap either, it’s probably the real thing too, stabilized and irradiated. I don’t take either, but thought you might. Have you ever tried the cream in your coffee?” Jeff asked, offering the slip back.

  “I haven’t, but I will now since you are already charged for it. I thank you for the experience,” Strangelove said.

  “It’s like a dessert,” Strangelove decreed after adding the cream.

  “Some people add chocolate or caramel,” Jeff said, “or muck it all up with liqueurs and things. I actually like the taste of coffee, so I leave it alone. If you like it you might put them in the refrigerator, otherwise, they will probably take them along when they get the cart.”

  The com pinged and Jeff took it in his spex, but put it on the wall screen out of courtesy to Strangelove. It was Victor Foy, and Jeff decided he had nothing to be gained by hiding his plans from Strangelove this near putting them in motion.

  “Good early morning,” Vic said. “Up early or did you just work through the night?” Vic of course, knew Jeff required less sleep than unaltered Humans. Strangelove might not be aware of that.

  “Now really, the sun is streaming in the doors to the balcony. If we don’t order breakfast soon it will be lunch,” Jeff protested with mock cheerfulness, laying it on thick. “I’d love to get a meeting with Lee set up, unless she is another slug-a-bed who gets up mid-day or later,” Jeff reminded him, “her people too.”

  Vic’s reply was rude and visual and shocked Strangelove who couldn’t imagine treating a peer of one’s sovereign that way.

  “People have been known to disappear on far planets and are never to be found, tooth nor nail,” Vic warned.

  “My goodness, I’ll be careful,” Jeff said, which just confused Strangelove further. “You could have told me Lee Anderson actually resides in the very same building in which you planted me. Not that I’m complaining about the accommodations. It’s quite pleasant, the room service was prompt, and I think Strangelove wants to live here. It’s just one of those details you might have told me.”

  “Mmmm… I guess we could have,” Vic admitted. “Would you have done anything differently between then and now if you’d known? Sent her a fruit basket or had a courier deliver your calling card on a silver platter?”

  “Stop being infuriatingly logical,” Jeff demanded. “You are supposed to guess my every need and desire in advance.”

  That bizarre a statement had Strangelove wide-eyed in disbelief.

  “This usually requires a second cup of coffee to juice the mojo,” Vic said, putting his fingers on his temples and squinting, “but you’re so testy I’m thinking you need more than your morning coffee to be civil. Why don’t you have breakfast with Strangelove and don’t wait for us? If you don’t boost your blood sugar soon you’ll probably do something foolish like overthrow the government or invent something. I’ll be along with the Mrs. soon, if she doesn’t strangle me like she’s making motio
ns now that she intends to do.”

  “That’s the most sensible thing I’ve heard today,” Jeff agreed. “Do please at least text Lee if it’s too early to call her.”

  “Already did, again, while you were going on and on, I can multitask like that pretty well. I wouldn’t suggest we ask a third time though, it looks needy.”

  “Thank you. So, mosey on over when you care to join us. With a little luck, Lee will call in her people and we can have a meeting today.”

  “You got it Chief. You want to talk to her Ladyship before I sign off?” Vic asked.

  “Not at all, you’ve handled everything needful admirably. I’ll commend you to her for that,” Jeff promised.

  “Gee thanks, Boss. Make sure that gem goes on my permanent record,” Vic said and disconnected.

  Strangelove sat, still in overload, looking thoughtful. “I don’t understand what I just heard,” he admitted. Then, instead of every reasonable question he might have asked, said, “How does one mosey?”

  “It’s far easier to show than explain,” Jeff said. He got up and walked across the room like the living dead, turned and stood straighter, his face transformed, and he drew his arms up with a little flourish. He danced back across the room light footed making a slow spectacle of the needlessly complicated procession all out of proportion to the time and distance covered.

  A huge smile spread on Strangelove’s face. “This is a new thing to me. This is art. You declare to everyone you have no concern or need to hurry. You are totally centered. One dares intrude on your space and impede you at great risk. I love it!”

  “You got it in one,” Jeff admitted. “I wasn’t sure it would translate, Human to Derf.”

  “I think the one informs the other,” Strangelove said, tentatively. “Your conversation with Victor Foy makes sense now. You invite him to mosey, not rush here and attend me, minion. You invite insolence. It’s exaggerated play-acting. Am I right?”

  “Spot on,” Jeff said. “Surely there are senior people in the clan who tweak the Mothers’ noses and remind them they aren’t quite god-like ones?”

  “A few, and one must be deeply confident to dare try it. I am not of a mind to try it just yet. Maybe in fifty years or so if I think myself irreplaceable. One may get away with it, or one may be assigned to hand-number all the trees on Red Tree land this side of the mountains and submit a written report when done. Is Vic Foy that good?”

  “Vic Foy is the sort who would go pick a star and start his own Kingdom if he didn’t like the way you ran yours. Even if he wasn’t that good he’s that confident. His wife is Lady Foy and declared Heather’s peer. I suspect Heather hesitates to elevate Vic to his peerage because he never doubted he was her peer, and doesn’t need the label to feel any better about himself.”

  Strangelove nodded, a learned gesture but well done. “Let’s go get breakfast before they are sitting here waiting for us to return. But first, tell me if I have this right.”

  He stood, set his mind and walked away from Jeff haughty as a King in his natural splendor, even from behind. He turned and made a slight spread of his hands and dipped his head. Then he came back across the room with the full effect throttled down to merely confident instead of arrogant.

  Jeff just applauded him rather than say anything. If clapping wasn’t Strangelove’s custom, he figured out its purpose, and gave a little bow before he slipped the persona off like a jacket. “Let’s go eat,” he suggested.

  * * *

  “They gathered, but I have a new data point,” Sam said. “The Derf who came to drive the Foys came straight from their embassy, but he is also connected to a house in the city that shows on public records as a recent purchase of Red Tree. He takes a car there from the port often enough that he must come from the Keep on a regular basis.”

  “A whole new player?” Bill asked, intrigued.

  “The Derf is at the Old Hotel, I suspect with Singh, and the Foys have called a car to take them to the hotel,” Sam said. “I’m not sure how to find out more on the Derf.”

  “Well if he is at the hotel and you have Singh and the Foys located there safely, why not swing by this mystery address and check it out?” Bill suggested.

  “You want to come along?” Sam offered. To his surprise, Bill agreed.

  * * *

  The Foys were waiting in the suite when Jeff and Strangelove returned. Vic made himself at home and was drinking a beer straight from the bottle. It was a small bottle, for a Derf. The Foys were dressed nicer than yesterday. Jeff wondered if that was for him or for Lee? They immediately informed him they were waiting for her return call. She didn’t know if her researchers were available and was contacting them.

  * * *

  The house was of a very old style, perched on great stones with green aged copper or bronze saddles cast in the rock supporting big beams black with age. The house reminded Sam of some he’d seen in the northern islands of Japan, but it was no rustic setting, it was right on the street like a townhouse. The tiled roof was of a similar sort to the Asian model, but shaped differently, more like the Italians style. It was of an old form limited to a tiny core of the Old Town. They still managed to make the street a sharp curve even if there wasn’t a green space around each building here. There had once been a common open space around a circle, but that was long gone before Humans arrived and the Derf equivalent of suburbs was allowed. That happened after peace was agreed upon as law for the trade towns by all the clan Mothers. A couple stubbornly resistant clans disappeared forever in the end process, which ended a millennium of bickering.

  Sam scanned the building briefly. “There are three big heat sources consistent with Derf. There’s a bunch of weak electronic signals, but no attempts at sophisticated shielding. I see no radar or sonic proximity alarms. I’m not sure what to use as an excuse to approach the door.”

  “Want to go buy a pizza and pretend you are delivering it?” Bill suggested.

  “Nobody hand delivers,” Sam said. “I mean, they just have the car do it.”

  “They have a bell by the door, I mean a real bell, not a push button to ring an electronic bell. I remember this old flat movie I watched one time. The kids put a bag on the porch of an old curmudgeon they hated and set it on fire. Then they rang the bell and ran. I never did understand that movie.”

  “That sounds like an excellent way to get shot as an arsonist,” Sam said.

  “Want to just go home?” Bill asked. “You can go back through all the drone shots of this address and see who comes and goes. Then track each of them… ”

  Sam had had quite enough of that slow process. “I’ll just brazen it out,” he decided, and got out of the car. He waited a second to see if Bill was coming, but he just smiled and waved bye.

  There wasn’t any striker for the bell, so he fished in his pocket and found his pocketknife tapping the bell end on. It had a pleasant deep tone when struck, but Sam wondered if he’d hit it hard enough? He had, because the door opened quickly enough.

  The Derf who answered filled the door, and it was a full Derf sized door, not some dinky little man door. Sam’s mouth went a little dry because the fellow was wearing modern soft body armor with a ballistic faceplate and high-end spex behind it. He had a twenty-millimeter auto-pistol hung on his chest harness, but he was ignoring it, favoring a handful of ax that looked suitable for felling Sequoias.

  “Oh, do you speak English?” Sam managed to ask.

  “A bit, but we don’t need any more religious tracts, thank you.”

  “Then this isn’t the Collins’ house?” Sam said. “My bad, sorry,” he managed to add before the Derf could even reply. The Derf nodded, indifferent, and was closing the door before Sam had fully turned away. The way Sam walked back to the car reminded Bill of a toddler who had just had an accident.

  “Car, take us home,” Sam said. “I have no idea what we have here, but it sure isn’t a Derf retirement home or Ma Derf’s rooming house.”

  Bill smiled, amused. “
So now you get to research it the hard way anyway.” It wasn’t a question.

  Chapter 18

  Born and Musical were creating a test disk at the engineering lab. They pulled up stools and sat in front of the machine not because they expected anything to go wrong, but because they didn’t trust the engineering students not to mess with the running machine or their professor Leonardo not to come by in their absence and try to snoop on what stock they were feeding it or copy the program.

  Born’s phone and Musical’s sounded at the same time. It was a voice call, which was unusual for Lee. Normally she left a text and wasn’t in a hurry to have an answer that day much less right now.

  “You talk to her,” Musical insisted. Born frowned but complied.

  “Please let me know when you are both available to come to the Old Hotel. We have a meeting requested with Jeff Singh. I don’t have details, but the fact it is him and he’s here makes me expect it to be of importance,” Lee said.

  “We are mid-process in the engineer’s hall and can’t walk away from our equipment in the middle of the run,” Bacon sent. “We should be done and able to leave in another hour and a half. Should we come then? Is that too late?”

  “That’s fine,” Lee sent back. “Ask the hotel staff to show you the elevator for Singh’s suite and join us when you can.”

  “We’re not meeting at your suite in the Old Hotel?” Born asked, surprised.

  “No, Singh has taken one of the other suites and is hosting us,” Lee said.

  “Oh, that’s good, we don’t have to find a new place,” Bacon said. “Do you know what Singh wants?”

  “I said I don’t have any details, and nobody else has bothered to inform me if they know. I can’t imagine he’d come in person for a trivial message, he’d just forward it through the Foys. Do message me if you run into problems and can’t come. That’s all,” she added, and actually sounded a bit curt, to make clear she was done with the exchange before disconnecting. That was really out of character.