Otto spent the next stan shaving the edges off a piece of kindling. He carved just to get the feel of the knife biting into the wood. In the end he tucked into the stove with a grin. “It’s not as easy as it looks.”
His father smiled up at him. “Practice, Otto. Just practice.” Glancing at the chrono, he said, “Shall we go get some lunch?”
His father nudged the damper on the stove and they collected the tea cups and pot, splitting the load between them. Otto folded the knife and slipped it into his pocket before shrugging into his jacket. When they were ready, his father opened the door, and they ducked their heads against the storm and they walked as quickly as they could back to the cottage. A hot stew simmered on the stove and the aroma of fresh biscuits greeted them.
Rachel looked up from where she sat at the terminal with a smile. “There you are. I was just about to send out the hounds to find you.”
Richard grinned. “We were carving. Didn’t notice the time. You could have yelled from the back door.”
She shrugged. “It was kinda pleasant having the house to myself.” She winked at Otto, who knew exactly how she felt. “What do you mean ‘we were carving?’”
“Otto’s trying his hand.”
When his mother looked at him, he said, “It’s not as easy as it looks.”
“What did you carve?”
“Kindling,” he said as they gathered around the table for lunch.
“And what you been up to, besides this excellent stew?” his father asked.
“Oh, the normal stuff. The new ’Net access gives me a lot better look at the overall financial picture. And I’m really enjoying seeing the news from Dunsany. It’s so easy to get suckered into believing that the only thing in the world is St. Cloud.”
”For us, that’s pretty much true.”
“We’d be a lot harder pressed to make ends meet if not for the parts and such that the Company ships in from Dunsany.”
His father nodded agreement at her point and tucked into the stew.
“Anything new from the company?” Otto asked. The idea that they’d soon be forced to leave St. Cloud seemed–by turns–impossible, inevitable, and terrifying. His mind kept rolling idea over and over.
She shook her head. “Allied is having a party this weekend. They’ve invited Jimmy Pirano and some of his people to go up and celebrate the harvest with them in Fairfax. The ’Net is abuzz with it.”
Richard frowned. “That’s unusual. I don’t remember they’ve ever done that before.”
“Neither did Alan. He’s been invited to go along.”
Richard shot a look across the table, but she only shrugged in response.
“Curiouser and curiouser,” he said, but went back to his stew. “Anything else in the news?”
She shrugged. “There’s talk out of Margary that there’s a lot of jobs for deep-space construction workers. That came in on one of the clippers yesterday.”
Richard snorted. “Well, we know where to go if we’re deported, I guess.”
Rachel shuddered. “I can’t imagine living in a hollowed out rock in outer space.”
Otto was still considering the idea when a particularly violent gust shook the house.
Richard said, “Well, look at it this way. No storms.”
She looked like she was considering it for a moment as she cocked her head to one side. “No sun, no sea, no sky?” She shook her head. “Not worth it.”
They ate quietly for a time before Richard asked, “What are they thinking?”
Rachel just shrugged. “I have no idea, but the price of our shares just went down for the first time in stanyers on the Dunsany Exchange.”
Richard’s eyebrows went up. “They went down?”
She shrugged and nodded. “Seems like the market thinks the quotas are unreasonable, too.”
Chapter Fourteen
Fairfax
November 25, 2304
Jimmy and Tony stood up politely when Violet Austin walked up to their table in Dribbles, the bar at the Hotel Fairfax. They were comfortable enough in tweed and wool, and Violet, of course, wore a smartly tailored suit.
“Gentlemen, please let me introduce my associate, Andrew Gordan. Andrew is one of the best market analysts in the business. Andy, this unlikely looking pair are Jimmy Pirano and Tony Spinelli.”
Everybody shook hands all around and they settled into the comfortable chairs around the low table.
“Very generous for you to host us, Violet,” Jimmy said.
“If Simon, Stevens, and Sylvester have their way, it may be the last time, so why not?”
Tony glanced at Jimmy before speaking. “So, if we read your quota report correctly...?”
Andrew nodded. “Yeah, if it were possible to meet the quota, the planet would be stripped of practically every domestic animal in a single season, to say nothing of the insanity of the crop yield requirements.”
Violet said. “Our take on the fisheries quota is that they’re similarly asinine.”
Jimmy nodded.
“So, what are they up to?” Violet asked.
Both Tony and Jimmy shook their heads.
“The quotas by themselves, that’s just some kinda grandstanding, I think,” Jimmy said. “We’ve had really high quotas before. This rider that anybody who doesn’t make quota gets fired? That’s new.”
Andrew and Violet shared a glance. “We’ve got the same issue. Any farmer or herder that fails to make quota is supposed to get the axe.”
Tony sighed and shook his head. “We don’t have enough transportation to get that many people off the planet if it comes to deporting unemployed workers.”
Andrew grimaced. “We’ve got close to a million direct employees on St. Cloud, between the two companies. Add the support staff and indirect service vendors, that’s another million. Families and corollaries, and we’re talking more than five million. How are we supposed to even look at something like that? Are they planning on sending in the Marines?”
“It might come to that,” Violet said. “Some of our crofters over on the Eastern Reaches have been on planet for four generations. It would take a force of Marines to get them off the mountains.”
“That would be an expensive eviction,” Jimmy said. “And not just in cash.”
“Are they interested in the production? Or just trying to clear the planet?” Violet asked.
Jimmy said, “I don’t know. It’s like they’re trying to clear the planet. Is there something here we don’t know about? Something more valuable than the food?”
Andrew shook his head. “That seems unlikely. There are no precious metals to speak of. Gems wouldn’t require us to vacate. If they want the planet for some other purpose, or for some other group to live on, that might make sense. It’s a nice, relatively temperate climate. It’s next door to the Confederation Sector Authority on the one side, and the mining operations over in Margary on the other. It can’t be ore or any kind of raw materials that I can think of. “Bulk ore is just too expensive to lift and refined metals are cheaper to get from the rocks already outside the gravity wells.”
“Water?” Tony asked.
Violet shook her head. “Plenty of water in the gas giants. Refining it takes a little doing, but it’s considerably cheaper per metric kiloton to do that up there than to drag it off the planet.”
“It comes back to money,” Jimmy said.
“It always does,” Violet said.
“But where’s the money in this deal?” he asked.
Andrew shook his head. “That’s the thing. I can’t find any.”
“What do you mean, you can’t find any?” Tony asked.
Andrew shrugged. “Just that I’d expect to see some way for the Company to make money on the deal. I’ve looked at the market. The price of product is up a bit on rumor of shortage. The word is already out that we’re behind on meeting our quotas. Of course, people are looking at the quotas and not at production, which is up slightly.”
Jimmy f
rowned. “So, people have the idea that there’s a shortage of food because we’re not going to meet our quotas?”
Violet sighed. “Something like that. It’s a numbers game, Jimmy. The way the financial press is reporting production is in percentage of quota. They usually report current year against previous as a percentage. So last year at this time, we’d covered about a quarter of our quotas. That’s normal, given the season and all.”
Tony nodded his comprehension. “But increase the quota by–say–twenty-five or thirty points and the same production levels are now substantially reduced.”
Andrew said, “Stated as a percentage of quota, we’re definitely behind.”
“It’s early yet,” Jimmy said. “They could be making money on that scare by selling futures.”
“Or selling short on the basis of no production at all the year after,” Violet said.
Tony asked, “Anything unusual in the sector? Any coups? Buy outs? Hostile take overs?”
Both Andrew and Violet shook their heads. “We’ve been looking for that. Nothing. The only thing that’s even remotely out of the ordinary is that Margary Mining Authority is trying to hire a few thousand deep space construction workers.”
“Are they building new facilities?” Jimmy asked.
Violet shrugged. “They’re collecting the mined out hulls of the asteroids and turning them into habitat for their workers. The recruiting offer is for work on a new multilevel residential platform.”
“In addition to the orbital?” Tony asked.
“Apparently. They claim it’s part of their long term planning and the next step in exploiting the mineral resources there.”
“Well, at least we know where to look for jobs,” Tony said.
Violet asked, “What’s the Ole Man say, Jimmy?”
He shook his head. “Nothing yet.”
“But he knows?”
“Yeah, he knows.”
Tony shot him a look as if to say, “When’d you talk to him?”
Jimmy pretended not to see it, keeping his eyes on Violet. “Your home office have any guidance?”
Andrew and Violet exchanged looks again. “I’m not sure our reports are getting through,” Violet said.
Tony’s eyebrows shot up.
Jimmy just nodded. “All communications go through Dunsany, huh?”
Andrew nodded.
“Allied Ag has over fifty planets in twenty-eight sectors,” Violet said. “It’s a long way to home office from any of them and the chain of command is somewhat rigid.”
They all sat dumbly for a few ticks, lost in their own thoughts before Jimmy tapped his glass on the table in thought. “So the only money the company is picking up is a slight increase in profitability on existing products.”
“That’s all I’ve seen,” Andrew said.
“They’re not selling the company?” he asked.
“Maybe, but they’re going about it oddly. Typically, you’d want to sell a successful venture, not one that’s crippled,” Violet said.
“Are they trying to buy it?” Tony asked.
Andrew looked quizzical. “Buy it? They’re a management company. They all but own it already. Where’s the percentage in owning it?”
Violet said, “Especially with no production capacity. If this follows through to the logical conclusion, there won’t be any production here by this time next year.”
“Salvage?” Jimmy asked.
Violet shook her head. “We looked at that, actually. We’re registered with the Sector Authority, and both Pirano and Allied are too large to just disappear. No, we’re firmly identified with St. Cloud. It’s not like anybody is going to be able to do anything like a claim jump on the whole planet.”
The conversation died out as another idea got taken down.
“Do you really think your office is bugged, Violet?” Jimmy asked.
“We found one,” she said. “There’s probably more. Why do you ask?”
Jimmy waved his hands to indicate the whole bar. “I like the ambiance here, but this isn’t where I’d expect us to be having this conversation. I’m pretty sure including that spreadsheet of quotas was no more mistake than mine was back to you. You’d hardly need to throw a party in our honor as an excuse to get us here if you didn’t think somebody was watching or listening.”
“Let’s hope we’re not as transparent to them as we are to you, Jim,” Violet said with a wry smile.
“I’ve known ya longer.”
Andrew rose. “We should be getting back to the ballroom before somebody notices we’re all gone at the same time.”
Violet finished her drink and rose. “Good point. Give us about five minutes to get back in before you follow, Jim?”
Jimmy nodded. “Sure. Nice to meet you, Andrew.”
“And you, Jimmy. Thanks for coming.”
They turned and strode out of the bar. Violet nodded to the bartender on the way out.
After they left, Tony said, “She’s still something, Jimmy.”
Jimmy grimaced and drained his glass. “She’s still my ex-wife, Tony.”
“True, but she’s still something.”
Jimmy sighed. “Yeah, she is.”
They drained their glasses and left them on the table, and the bartender waved them off. “It’s already been taken care of, gentlemen.”
They left the bar and went around to the main ballroom. They could hear the music and loud talking from well down the hall. They went into the cavernous room to find the party in full swing. Farmers, fishermen, admins, and clerical staff crowded the dance floor. More stood around in cocktail party groups with bottles, glasses, mugs, and even the occasional pewter stein. A particularly vivacious redhead in a low-cut blue gown caught Jimmy’s eye and she turned to wink at him, as if she could feel his eyes on her. With a shock, he realized it was Casey.
Tony murmured, “Well, she cleans up nice, now, don’t she?”
Jimmy grunted, a bit flustered by his own reaction. “Come on. I need another drink.”
They found the bar. Alan Thomas propped it up and chatted with a couple of women. They looked as uncomfortable in their dresses as Alan did in a suit. His eyes lit up when he saw Jimmy and Tony approaching. It only took a moment for Tony and Jimmy to get drinks, and Alan waved them over.
“Joan? Genevieve? This is Jimmy and Tony. Jimmy and Tony? That one’s Joan and this one is Genevieve.”
The one labeled Joan offered a slender hand to Jimmy saying, “Hello, Mr. Pirano. Thanks for coming. I’m Joan Armstrong. I work a few thousand square kilometers off to the east of town, here. Genevieve is my number one overseer.”
Jimmy smiled. “Thank you, Joan. Call me, Jimmy. Tony’s my lead accountant.”
Introductions over, Alan said, “These ladies have been telling me that they’ve got some quota issues, too.”
Jimmy said, “Yes, I’ve heard something of it, but this is a party, yes?”
Tony took the cue. “Why, yes, it is, Jimmy. Genevieve, would you care to dance?”
Genevieve smiled, and nodded her agreement. Tony squired her onto the dance floor.
Alan stood there dumbfounded. Before he could recover, Joan winked at Jimmy. “If you’d like to dance, Alan? I’d love to.”
Jimmy hid a grin in his drink as Alan looked to Joan then to Jimmy and back to Joan.
She grinned back at Jimmy, took Alan by the hand, and dragged him out onto the floor.
“You gotta admire a woman who knows what she wants.”
Jimmy turned to see Andrew getting drinks at the bar, smiling a sympathetic smile.
Jimmy raised his glass in toast. “I certainly do. I most certainly do.”
Andrew took a pair of glasses and strolled back to where Violet waited, talking to some accountant types with serious looks. He gave her one of the drinks before taking up station on her left. When she glanced at Andrew to thank him, she saw Jimmy looking in her direction and smiled briefly before returning to the conversation.
“I ce
rtainly do,” Jimmy muttered, and wandered off to mix and mingle.
Chapter Fifteen
Callum’s Cove
December 8, 2304
The storm of the day before had blown itself out overnight, leaving a crusty glaze of roughened snow everywhere. Otto looked out the window and admired the way everything outside had a whitened coat on its south side where the winds had driven the snow, sleet, and ice against it. As the rising sun glinted through the trees, the crust took on a jewel-like quality.
Rachel came to look out over his shoulder, leaning forward to kiss the back of his head.
“I looked away for a moment and you’ve gotten so tall.”
Otto smiled at her. “Kinda pretty out there, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but cold!” Their breath not only condensed on the inside of the glass, but crystallized on it in fractal flowers.
She returned to the stove and dished out heavy bowls of oatmeal laced with granapples and raisins. The spicy scent was what had awakened Otto to begin with.
“Father’s gone to the village?”
“Yes, just you and I today.”
“Again. What does he do down there so often?”
“Well, hon, with the days getting short and everybody cooped up inside, people start to get a bit crazed.”
“Cabin fever?” he asked, settling at the table and taking up spoon against the mountain of steel cut oats.
His mother smiled. “When you’re used to unlimited horizons, being bound by four walls, day in and day out? That gets hard to take.”
Otto nodded and plowed into the hot cereal. “But why does he go for breakfast?”
“Because that’s when most people are there. He’s most likely to find out if there’s a problem in the village then.” She settled across the table from him and focused on her own breakfast for a time. She watched him with short glimpses.
South Coast (Shaman's Tales From The Golden Age Of The Solar Clipper Book 1) Page 9
