April

by Mackey Chandler

  He knew he was still under scrutiny to some degree and if he showed some major fault, he supposed that could still turn them away from offering him whatever they had in mind to extend to him tonight. Dinner had been excellent. Almost as fine as what Sylvia had served him on Mitsubishi 3 he reflected. No. He corrected himself. Better get used to saying Home.

  He found himself sitting between the President of France and the Minister of Defense, with the Prime Minister directly across from him and seeming to examine him in some detail. The President, he thought, was the final doubter and who would have the final say about him. He leaned back in the leather with his ankles crossed, relaxed but controlled and nursed a snifter of wonderful Cognac carefully. He was not uncomfortable with the scrutiny. He was aware they would watch his appetite for alcohol, as well as every other quality and weakness he might display. He imagined every statement he made would be electronically analyzed for veracity.

  Such scrutiny was entirely to be expected. He was as skilled as any other man here at making statements which were true, without being the whole truth and at guiding them to draw whatever assumptions they wished. Indeed if the machines told them every statement he made was true - but he was not telling everything, they would respect him all the more.

  The news conference was proceeding on the screen, with Jon reading his statement, surrounded by his friends.

  "You were just up there, weren't you Broutin?" the President asked. "You must have just gotten out in time, or you'd be stuck there for who knows how long!"

  "Yes, I saw an artist there, someone doing commissions for the Treasurer of Lebanon. I had other business, but he wanted me to see if getting his art pieces out would be a problem. I wouldn't try to hurry her. It's often counterproductive with these artistic types and her more than most I'd suspect. She is a very strong willed lady. I'm satisfied we'll have no trouble getting them down when the time comes."

  "You're certainly more optimistic than most of us about doing so," the Minister of Defense allowed. "I'd say when the USNA recovers from this vandalism, they will lock their sat down so tight you won't get a letter in or out."

  "You see the young girl in the black?" he pointed out April. "Have you seen Genji Akira's new piece about her?" A couple of them had not so he split the screen and ran it off his pad for them, as he had saved it. He left the last pic of April shooting on the screen still split to the news conference.

  "So he takes them and her, quite seriously." The President seemed surprised.

  "If you meet her, you will be moved to take her quite seriously too."

  "Do tell. You've had the pleasure I take it?"

  Broutin went back to the news conference side of the screen and zoomed in. He was smooth at visual and verbal presentation, not distracting his audience fumbling around. April was leaning away from Jon, laughing at something with Jeff. Although she was leaning back, visibly relaxed, the fingers of her right hand seemed to habitually fall across the sword grip. It projected a powerfully subtle suggestion, that she was always ready to draw steel. Like a lounging cat displaying its claws. He wondered if it was a deliberate mannerism.

  "See the Champlevé cuff links in her sleeves? She and I were house guests with my artist friend in Home. She was up in the night, letting her young daughter and this girl in, from an evening with the Singh boy. They are all three there at the table tonight. When she came back I asked, 'Did the young people have a good time? Were they out dancing and having fun?' She laughed at me and informed me they were up late working on their space ship and yes they'd had a ball."

  "I confess, I thought she was joking then. When I gave those to her at breakfast the next morning she had just offered casually, over crepes, to carry my shipment out past any blockade they might throw up. She and her brother are owners of the Happy Lewis. I thought it terribly brave and naive, of her. But I admired her spirit, so I made them as a gift to her when she noted them."

  "Now however, she has had both great powers try to hunt her ship and turned the tables on them, I'd say I was wrong about the naive part. If I needed to ride with her through their blockade tomorrow, I would do so and feel sorry for the other fellow."

  "The Happy Lewis? The one the BBC has been showing? That destroyed the American and the Chinese vessels both in the same engagement? That's hers?" The Defense Minister seemed to be having second thoughts. "It was a slaughter," he admitted with a grimace.

  Before Broutin could say more, the President, an incurable romantic, laughed heartily. "You dog you! You're not telling us the half, sitting there smiling. You've had the inside track on this for who knows how long. You just happened to drop by the artist's for your friend, into the heart of their conspiracy! What a coincidence you sat to breakfast with half the rebels at that table," he waved at the screen with his glass. About like the coincidence of being invited here tonight. You're thick with these pirates," he accused, but with a grin.

  "And that girl! Let me tell you. If you have any favor with her you better work to keep it. She is a lovely young girl now, but in the blink of an eye she is going to be an absolutely magnificent young woman and there'll be a crowd begging her attention. Next time you see her you better have something much better than a pair of your old cuff links, to show your admiration. I'd suggest something with diamonds, big ones, that won't lie forgotten in a drawer along with your memory, when you see her again."

  "Ah! - Can you imagine anything more exciting than a beautiful, dangerous, young pirate Captain?" he asked all of them, with a look around. "Stories of daring like this are more like something out of the days of Empire and sailing ships, not our own insipid times." He took another sip of Cognac and looked around again at his companions.

  "Gentleman, we need more associates such as Msr. Broutin, who seem to have such marvelous luck at meeting the major players, just before a political upheaval. And so modest about it too," he chuckled.

  "Perhaps," mused the Prime Minister aloud, "we should not be the last in line to recognize this Home. If they fail, the Americans can hardly hate us more. Yet if we hold back, they may remember our reserve as a slight for a long time. If we can make it a motion before the entire European Union, there is safety in numbers too, no?"

  Broutin just smiled and sipped his drink. When people are busily talking themselves into something, why would you interrupt?

  * * *

  The Singh projector on the North hub was bolted down on the outer bulkhead of the Lewis family cubic. It was mounted above a heavy plate and had substantial explosive charges beside the critical components, to allow their destruction in the event capture looked likely. The ship mounted versions on the Happy Lewis and Home Boy were even wired into the vessel self destruct, if someone tried to open it. It was also mounted in a small white dome of foam which rotated with the projector to hide it from view. Dave had asked if they were going to cut a hole or slot to shoot through and they had laughed and said don't worry, it will make its own hole.

  They had another projector ready to move, on a new and interesting design of miniscooter, which Dave's Advanced Spacecraft Services had made up. It could be parked at the South end of the station, where they had no rights to use any outer surface of the hub. There were several areas where Dave had rights, just to dock on an external post however. He had compared it to a wheelbarrow or hand cart. It was a flat triangular tube, foam filled, with a set of simple thrusters at each end and a plain seat built in one end you could turn to sit facing either way and a hole cut to dangle your legs through. There was a low wall in front of the seat, to keep any load from shifting back on the operator and all the controls were in one cluster on the seat arm. There were running lights and a sunshade, a radio plug and power to connect your suit into, but no attempt was made to enclose the load. Just a flat bed about six by three meters to strap freight to and only enough power to move at low speed, literally within sight of the station. No radar or navigation computer, no autopilot at all.

  It did have a single light docking and
tow grapple at each end. He expected to make them for general sale also, since they were dirt cheap. They could make a copy for about forty thousand dollars USNA, using obsolete scooter parts. They were assuming nobody would consider it as requiring a license to operate or certification, as it was more like a pallet truck or golf cart, than a actual vessel. It was only made to operate at two or three meters a second, max.

  However the cargo on this platform was precious. The second Singh projector was mated with a fusion power source and a radar unit which cost much more than the cart. The expense was not a concern to Dave however, because he had 'liberated' it from the wreck of the Cincinnati. He was shocked when he went to get it, to see quite a few other items had been stripped from the shuttle in just a couple days. He was glad nobody had taken the radar before him. Heather had privately asked him to salvage a few other electronic things for her personally, when he pulled the radar and he had obliged her.

  The way the shuttle had been damaged he realized most of it was worth saving. So he sent two of his crew to save the engines and their support gear first and then a secondary wish list. He had no doubt if it stayed parked there a few months even the airframe itself would be cut away slowly for the metals and it would just disappear. It didn't upset him. He just resolved to get his share.

  So when they were done, they had two projectors to protect the station and two on scooters to do the same, or to move off and fire on other spacecraft or at the earth. The second scooter was equipped with two reflecting telescopes, which mounted at the end of booms. They were folded back for acceleration. The Singh projector could be fired from radar or by eye from one telescope. But to shoot at Earth targets especially, the two telescopes were moved about ten meters apart and the signals integrated electronically in a manner he didn't entirely understand, to resolve a much smaller object than they could do separately. Jeff had told him it was a technique astronomers used and it resolved such a fine image that the license plates on ground cars would be readable, if they were tipped to the sky.

  Heather was working hard to compile a database of targets, from a commercial map program and a GPS source. She had also bought a subscription to Jane's and was trying to make a reference source for all the USNA and Chinese vessels known, both space and wet navy. She could not believe they still had not cut off their access to data. She determined if they did cut off her communications, she'd return the favor and target their deep sea cables and net backbones even before military targets. There was a nasty side to her down deep, that understood the need for excess in retribution. She could spend years developing targets and contingencies, but she ran out of time the next morning.

  * * *

  The Secretary of State was given the task of reading the announcement.

  "The United States of North America in the face of a violent breakdown in civil order in the orbital habitat known as Mitsubishi 3 is establishing a quarantine and blockade of traffic to and from the station effective immediately, until such time as order is restored. Any space craft approaching or leaving the area of the habitat, will be subject to interception and search or seizure. Craft not on a trajectory which permit interception and boarding or resist are liable to be fired upon and destroyed with no further warning."

  "As these pirates are not the honorable forces of a legal government, they will not be treated with the respect of honorable combatants, as prisoners of war, but as criminals and unlawful combatants. They and anyone supporting the illegal actions of these outlaws by voice or deed will be liable to summary execution on capture."

  "We encourage those not associated with these acts, to report the movements or location of the leaders of these crimes, to aid in their capture and punishment. To this end we also offer a reward of five million dollars USNA to anyone bringing forward dead or alive Jon Davis, or any of the crew of the notorious vessel the Happy Lewis, to any Federal officer or embassy."

  "So, we fight," Eddie said to his friends assembled to watch the screening when the Secretary finished. "Putting a price on our heads irritates me. If you want to put a public price on President Hadley, I'll pop ten million Euro for his ears and any other small extremities they want to trim. They can keep the main part of him. He should know what it feels like to be priced like a side of beef." It irritated him worse, that the price on their heads was quite low by recent standards.

  "Did anyone doubt they'd make us fight?" Nam-Kah asked them rhetorically.

  "You need to make a counter announcement Jon," Ajay urged him.

  "How about some help composing it? Then I want a com broadcast, to call for a vote tonight approving it, because this will be a declaration of war," Jon explained.

  "You mean a real formal declaration of war? I didn't think anyone did that anymore."

  "They don't," Jon assured her. "It's about time somebody revived the noble custom. I don't want these Earthies to think this is just a minor matter, which will be settled quietly in a few days and forgotten, nor will it be left to fester unsettled. I intend for them to remember their surrender every day, the rest of their lives."

  * * *

  Jeff sat in Heather's apartment looking at the fish swimming in the aquarium Heather's mother maintained. It was a popular hobby and a great decoration. All but a few of the fish were insensitive to different G levels. They were almost as hardy as ants, which for some reason seemed to thrive better in zero G than any gravity at all. The gracefully moving striped forms were seen, but almost as a dream while his mind grappled with other things. The tank was a great aid to meditation. He had pictured the geometry of the material in a Singh projector and for some reason not connected to any particular known phenomena, he had this burning urge to know what would happen if the torus of strange material was spin as it interacted with a field.

  He did not have a handle on why yet, but he was intuitively sure there would be a change in effect. There was a distance to go before all the little connections tickling him in his brain would condense, into a complete thought. He was going to be very careful loading the next couple projectors they were assembling, because he very much wanted a sample of the tricky quantum fluid to be left over.

  Chapter 33

  Jon thought most would stay at home for this vote. They had agreed to meet and propose new issues and vote every Saturday, until they had fleshed out a functional government. Then when it was proposed and passed, they would eventually drop down to once a month. After awhile perhaps even less. That was too far in the future to know about right now. So calling a Wednesday meeting was breaking the new rule already. Yet the cafeteria was filling rapidly, although it was a workday for many of them. After Muños called them to order again, he yielded the broadcast to Jon.

  "Thank you for your patience. I feel we have to reply to the blockade quickly. Not wait until Saturday, to discuss it and respond. This is not something I could reply to on my own. Not only would I not presume to speak for all of you, but I want the USNA government to know what I am telling them was voted on and adopted. The principle item which may cause controversy is I wish to make a formal declaration of war. There are reasons for this. One is to bring into play a large body of international law, which deals with war. It will give other states a basis for intervening for us, in the face of their branding us as simple pirates or outlaws. Pirates and terrorists don't declare formal war."

  "The other important thing is, having a formal start to a declared war provides a basis for having a formal termination of hostilities. I don't want us to live with the shadow of unresolved hostilities hanging over us every day, because we don't know when the USNA may see a chance to reverse matters and attack us anew if we don't have a formal surrender and peace."

  "Let me read my proposed text and then I'll entertain suggestions and comments. Please, so we can all go home tonight, try to only propose something which is a matter of real importance, not a picky little detail of punctuation, or usage." He picked up the hard copy and read.

  Some of the comments were insightful. He m
arked several revisions and explained a number of items patiently. Especially what he had to repeat several times, was he really was talking about the USNA surrendering not Home. Some of them found it a hard concept to believe, when he informed them he intended to win this war. Just the huge difference in size, made it seem impossible to a lot of people. It was about three hours, before the last person who spoke did not have someone else already standing, to be recognized.

  Jon grabbed the opportunity to point out the time and beg a chance to put the revised statement to a vote. He got an approval and the revised version quickly passed. He particularly liked the addition Jeff had suggested. This time he didn't need to be told to read it live. He assumed it was their custom now. When there were several news services connected, awaiting his statement, Muños gave a formal intro and handed off to him.

  "Peoples of the Earth, Moon and Mars, along with the other habitats of humanity, we must speak to you again. Following our declaration of independence, we have had our offer of peace rejected by the United States of North America."

  "It is always a sad decision to choose conflict and bloodshed, instead of peace, especially when those who adopt war, are rarely the ones who must fight it and die. We find ourselves labeled bandits and pirates, undeserving of the laws governing warfare."

  "A strange declaration to make in the face of the fact no fighter of Home is held prisoner. Why the USNA would abandon their soldiers in our custody, to a suspension of the rules of civilized warfare, we don't understand. Perhaps they feel we will commit some atrocity against their combatants, which will cause others to scorn us, as they do.'

  "If so they will be disappointed, as we intend to treat their captured soldiers with respect, even if they abandon them. If they wish to disregard the forms of ethical restraint, which have been the proper custom between nations so long, we cannot force civilized behavior upon them. We must ask the rest of humanity however: Who then is the one called pirate and who is actually acting the part?"