Paper or Plastic

by Mackey Chandler

  The huge black shape behind the politicians stirred, with a moan of weight lifted from steel, until sky started showing beneath it through the cradle of girders. The roof above it was shrugged off like nothing and fell away to the other side with a rumble of crumpling sheet tin. It wouldn't be replaced, now that there was no secret to be kept visually about this class of vessel.

  The first of class was going to be very visible to everyone's eyes. The helmsman was cautious with it until it cleared the edge of its cradle. Then it lifted smoothly with a deceptive ease for its bulk. The size and silence, made it look like a balloon drifting away at first, but the velocity kept adding up, until it was receding quickly in the camera view, as they tracked higher to follow it. It was out of sight faster than a rocket and with no exhaust to leave a track. The PM didn't spoil the drama of it by speaking, until it was gone.

  "As you might guess, due to her size we do not have port facilities suitable for a vessel the size of the Doron, although we plan on correcting that quickly. After the Doron has had a trial cruise in low earth orbit she will assume a station above Israel in geostationary orbit. She will be serviced by much smaller shuttles. I'd like to introduce you to the Shuttle Netz which is the first of six vessels of her class that have been constructed in secret, as a service fleet for the Doron class."

  The camera panned back again and in the distance a shape lifted from the depths of the Canaf 2 complex and approached, moving with much more confidence than the Doron had lifted. As it braked to a stop in the space the Doron had just vacated, so was easy to compare its length to the empty construction cradle below. This vessel was perhaps forty meters long and circular in cross section with stubby ends like a cargo plane without wings.

  "The Netz will be joining the Doron in orbit for docking exercises, as part of their own shakedown cruise."

  As he spoke the smaller ship rotated and then lifted away with a vigor the larger vessel had not displayed. In the distance the contrails of conventional fighters, showed the new vessels were being quietly protected while vulnerable.

  "The Doron will primarily be holding station, until another vessel of her class can be assembled in the yard behind me. It is the intent of Israel to keep an umbrella of protection from orbit in place now, as a permanent fixture. She is a defensive fixture, not a threat to anyone, but make no mistake, she and her service fleet have among other missions a defensive watch over both our territory and to assure our free access to space."

  "However there will be a commercial element to their activities through a public corporation, offering satellite launch and maintenance services and other space-based business. Space aboard the Doron will be limited by security considerations at present, but we expect similar private services to become quickly available, using the same technologies you saw demonstrated today."

  "Israel is proud to bring a new era of access to space, that will open a door of prosperity and new resources to all Earth nations. We are not taking questions at this time, so thank you for your attention and good day to you."

  The screen switched back to their main studio and Cotton lifted the remote and cut the talking heads off, before they could repeat the obvious.

  "You had it," Cotton admitted to Bolgrin. "You had the space angle, but neither of us could make the jump to believe that thing could lift. Man, this changes everything – everything," he repeated.

  "So… that request is still floating around NASA. How's it going to play if somebody figures out what it is? Will we be condemned for just missing it, or will we be praised for being on the right track?"

  "Danny, Danny, Danny," Cotton used Bolgrin's given name in a cautionary tone and a rare display of camaraderie. "This is why I'm your supervisor, to protect you from these sudden urges of honesty. If anything comes of this, we just point out that it was the slow response from NASA, that kept us from being able to confirm your brilliant deduction. Obviously it was much too radical a thought to put forth unconfirmed. It's not our fault we had the vital support we needed withheld. You just stand back and nod and smile, to agree with me and I'll do the talking. You're brilliant when it comes to images," he complimented him, "but leave the politicking to me."

  * * *

  Joshua turned from the TV, smiling and addressed the household through his specs. "We're leaving. This is the last chance for anyone changing their mind. As I've said – we won't be back for some months, but it could get hot here if the big boys take exception to Israel's new position. We've done enough for them, without sitting in the hot zone while they sort it out."

  There were a few text messages of good-bye in his specs, but nobody had a change of heart at the last minute. The tarp was already pulled off the ship in their courtyard and he walked up the stairs, which folded into the sleek body and sealed shut. On the drop nose under the ports it said in bold letters "The Trader" in both Hebrew and Trishan. It was much more aerodynamic than Martee's rental ship, had six times the cargo volume and was much more comfortable. The ship lifted with a full dozen crew. Commercial designers assured them it was stable to Mach 3. There would be no more buffeting along in a shoebox.

  The young woman sitting the house security watch launched a couple drones, anticipating expending a few. When she saw the starship clear of the ground, there was no possible argument that she wasn't in charge at the villa. She blinked at the number three drone, hovering above the robotic mini-sub that had come back to haunt them.

  The drone's slick shape cut the water, barely slowing down and in the shallow waters it reached the lurking sub in seconds, slowing the last few meters so she could guide it with precision and get a good image back. The sub was a basic cylinder like an oversized torpedo. Small enough she was certain it was unmanned. She only had a five kilogram charge in the drone, but rather than disable the drive she directed it to impact on the top center of the cylinder, where any weapons were likely to be released.

  The video feed for the detonated drone had barely gone blank, before the view from number two above erupted with a fountain of water. That confirmed the wisdom of her decision. Her own weapon would have barely made a ripple at the surface, so what she was seeing was a secondary explosion. The robot had been armed with something.

  Josh had not left any orders to cover his exit this way, but she worried about the starship's vulnerability before it gained altitude and acted once it was within her authority. If the submarine controlling it wanted to do something about it, now was the time. The mini-sub being gone, had surely reduced the sub commander's options.

  She only had four of the small drones orbiting above the main vessel out past the horizon, but she could direct them with uncanny precision. She had thought about it and her first target would be the seals on the propeller shafts and then the man-hatch on top of the sail, if they wanted to play rough. If they opened a weapon door, the drones were small enough to go right inside a torpedo tube. That wasn't something they wanted to experience.

  She stayed alert far longer than was comfortable. But finally the sub retrieved its surviving outrider and retreated away to the Northwest.

  Josh was never aware of the drama taking place behind him.

  Chapter 31

  The Lodge was of native wood, with a spread of log cabin style rooms in a fractal pattern like a grown thing - all attached to the main building, but each with a view at different levels and very private. It was an odd mix of local and Earth, depending on what was to be had in local materials.

  The Grand Lodge Room was a cone of massive, sixty-meter long timbers meeting at the top, perched on a one story deep base of field stone in a cylinder like a silo. Three fireplaces around the perimeter made sure there was one close to entry, restaurant and guest lounge. A full third of the circumference opened onto a Great Porch, overlooking the city. There would be tables and chairs out there and plenty of open room just to promenade.

  It was rough inside, thick with the spicy raw smell of just cut wood, the floor tiles not even laid, but Roger could already pictu
re it with a huge hand beaten chandelier of copper, like a flying saucer in the middle of the room and the light reflected from it warm and adding to the welcoming atmosphere.

  The outlander locals Roger favored to hire had complained about having to wait until spring to start construction. Once Roger explained the mysteries of moving logs on snow trails and iced paths to them, they instead rushed through the short winter, to get all the big timbers on site before spring made the ground soft.

  Besides getting their first place of business built, they were building a huge network of people used to doing business with them and word of how they were to deal with spread about. An invoice for "The Lodge" signed by Martee or Roger for supplies or labor, traded at par with local credit, too solid to be discounted. What was much more sought was payment in stock. Martee and he earmarked twenty percent for public offering and they had heard of some being traded at eighty Pid a share.

  He'd had offers to settle a bill in stock for almost twice that, because nobody was selling it unless they had a personal emergency. He felt good about that and dribbled it out sparingly. The local council only regulated stocks by offering or withholding financing, so they had no say in how much he offered or on what terms.

  Adopting some of the local custom, staff would be offered company housing in the valley, on the far side of the ridge from town. They would have no trouble hiring staff when the lodge was ready. Roger drew the line at a company store – they'd lease space to an independent, for a convenience store and run a shuttle into town for shopping.

  Roger spoke through the doctor he'd met in the emergency room, about care for his people and found that with the end of the unrealized temporary measures they were expanding coverage to all outlanders. By the time he was done talking with the doctor about what level of medicine was cost effective – especially on a colony world – Roger had a deep suspicion about Trishan medicine. He thought they were sandbagging as much with med-tech, as they were on stardrive performance.

  He'd talk to Josh when he came and enlist the help of his favorite historian, but he suspected that the unseen benefit the very highest officials in the Trishan sphere of influence were getting, was a very long and healthy life. It had seemed to him back when Martee explained their system, that they were altogether to altruistic for politicians. No way he'd put up with them hogging that, anymore than the star-drive. If they tried, they'd find out what caused all those airless cratered worlds, that still radiated mildly after a hundred millennia.

  Spring saw interior work start in a few of the finished rooms, as well as landscaping and trail work. Buildings were hidden from each other and the trails wound about whichever way they needed, to avoid the mature trees.

  They wondered what was keeping Josh.

  Chapter 32

  "Ahoy the Trishan vessel," Josh called on the radio and then repeated the greeting in their language. He was transmitting video too, but there had been no response of any kind now for several minutes. He was sitting in a huge swivel chair, in deep cushioned leather. It formed almost a shell around him and his control panel was suspended in front of him from two stout supports that came up from the floor on each side. The wide straps of a crash harness came over both shoulders and joined the one over his hips. Cushioned clamps folded over each leg. His helmet rode on a bracket at his right hand.

  The big Trishan ship below was sitting in a small lunar crater, with a cluster of domes and surface crawlers around it. There was no attempt to camouflage it at all. There was a thermal signature from all of the equipment, so he knew it wasn't abandoned, but there was no visible activity. Martee said they never mounted weapons to their spacecraft, but he wasn't as sure as she seemed to be. He was watching for anything that looked like a turret, or a missile tube to appear. They'd run if anything looked the least suspicious.

  Earth was not in the sky, here on the back side of the moon, so he couldn't radio his people on the ground. Nobody would ever know if something unpleasant happened here and that made him nervous. He had a number of surprises tucked away out of sight in their vessel, but he'd be happy to never need them. He just wasn't going off into a largely unexplored universe without them.

  "Hello the Earth vessel," came a belated reply in accented English. A Trishan appeared in the video and didn't look happy at all. "I'm prohibited from communicating with you, yet I'm also obligated to render assistance to anyone in distress. Is your vessel in difficulty?"

  "Ah, thank you, but no, we are fine. I'm Joshua Koszicki." Josh waited but the stony-faced official didn't offer his name, so he just went on. "This is a private vessel, but we were asked to just give you a heads up in passing if we could. If you'd rather I speak to you in Trishan – Todu that is – or something else, please tell me."

  He waited but the fellow just stared at him in a very unfriendly way. "You will be seeing quite a bit more space activity around our planet. There is the possibility that not every area will welcome you if you need to land and there is no common traffic control. We were asked to tell you that the State of Israel will give you safe passage. They will issue a special interstellar passport for your people on request, with no landing fees or customs fees, even if you are just passing through."

  "I very much recommend you take advantage of their offer. It will simplify things because, as I'm sure you are aware, you properly need documents to pass from one sovereign state to another on Earth. You are familiar with where Israel is located down below?"

  "Thank you for your concern, but visiting your planet and commerce is prohibited and we don't anticipate needing such arrangements. Since you bar… Since you people have obviously made sudden progress in space flight, you should be aware you are not welcome at our outpost here, or if it becomes within your capacity, our home world either."

  "Up to you," Josh shrugged his shoulders, "we know you have visited quite often in the past. Just be aware that it may not be as easy to get away with it now as it was before. There's lots of nasty places down there, that will toss your people in jail if they catch them trespassing and the jails in some of those countries are real hellholes. I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

  "As far as Trishal goes – we don't intend to go there," he continued pleasantly. "We are not on our way back to Earth, so you may have to tell others that you'd like to be left alone here. Soon enough, I think you'll see that is your loss, not ours, to reject a friendly gesture. This crew will keep in mind we're not welcome in your camp."

  "However…" Josh abruptly changed his tone of voice completely, "elsewhere, on our moon, you don't tell us," Josh informed him with a fierce look. That had to be clear to a man of any culture, the angry stranger with a stick look and was rewarded with seeing it visibly jolt the man. Josh signaled somebody off camera and the ship rose sharply away from the lunar surface. Barbarian my ass, Josh thought.

  "That was a real cute way to cover his butt for speaking with us," Gil, his XO, observed. I wonder what he'll actually do?"

  "I bet he'll send a courier home and sit tight and not send any agents down to Earth or possibly even recover any he already has down there. Bureaucrats are the same everywhere. He'll wait until he has instructions on what to do with the changed situation. Officials don't like change. They may let him sit and stew awhile before they make up their minds."

  "Do you think they'll contact the Israelis?"

  "More likely they will tell him to pretend nothing has changed, but just observe from orbit and stop sending agents down. At least he didn't argue when I made clear they don't own the whole moon, just because they are squatting in one crater. But you know what? I'm not going to worry about it. There are plenty of other worlds out there and my friends I'm long overdue to see. Let's go," he urged.

  Chapter 33

  The computer ripped from the stolen starship guided Joshua to Liñool perfectly. He settled it very slowly, not sure he wasn't mistaken and setting it down in some farmer's pasture like a fool.

  The ship had far more volume than the other three on t
he field combined. The wingless squared sides and blunt rounded nose made it look like a Japanese bullet-train locomotive more than a starship. The pearlescent paint job, with a tangerine tinted clear coat put it in a completely different class style-wise. Only the very nose was dull black, where it would heat up if pushed hard in atmosphere.

  Josh keyed the Security console. "Gil, post a couple armed guards inside the hatch, out of sight please, until we have some contact."

  "We have two vehicles approaching already," Gil informed him. "They are open, well sort of open and don't appear to be any threat. Call it two minutes before they pull up. Do you want me to go out and greet them?"

  "No, I'll be right down."

  The stairs that folded down were wide enough for people to pass on each side and a crewman hurried down and rolled a big mat open at its foot so the grass wouldn't get trampled muddy there. The fellow waiting with a clipboard looked hopeful, but the crewman just nodded and went back in. An older fellow appeared wearing a soft hat and sweater against the cool spring day. He hesitated just a moment to take a deep appreciative breath and scan the distance, before marching down the stairs to address him in fair Todu.

  "I'm Joshua Koszicki, Master of The Trader. Are you some sort of official?"

  "Master?" Fist asked confused.

  "The guy in charge when it's flying? What's the right word?"

  "Ah - Commander. Welcome to Liñool. I'm the authority for the port. We're a free port. There is no customs duty, but we keep general records of trade and request a manifest of your goods. Nothing is prohibited but a very few medical items that are contradicted to some of our genotypes and human slaves. We ask you confer with our Regulator of Environmental Purity before introducing new organisms."