They Said It Would Be Easy (April Book 7)

by Mackey Chandler

  "I don't know if Gunny will be around. He said he might have a security escort gig over to ISSII. So order it from my place and have it brought over."

  "OK, but not too late, or they run out of things," Jeff complained.

  * * *

  "This is remarkably generous of you to give us an opportunity to invest in a ship based landing platform," Irwin said. It wasn't like Irwin to gush. Jeff wondered if he was betraying some internal doubts about the whole deal. Maybe it looked too good to be true.

  "Not really. If I had the cash I'd run the whole thing myself," Jeff admitted. "I always like having full control of an enterprise. When you have to get consensus and make everybody happy it takes time. I've tried to steal time from sleeping, but that only works for about three days. I just have so many irons in the fire I have as little time to invest as money. I found myself regretting I'd invested in the second snowball expedition, even though it's going to do quite well. It will be generating income soon but it's still funds tied up. There are just so many opportunities right now it's hard to pick one over another."

  Irwin nodded. "I hear you. It's easy to say that you do the one that gives you the fastest return on investment, but sometimes that assumes somebody else is going to offer supportive services. I have people who want to hire employees, but they are waiting on your zero G habitats, because there is no other place to house them right now."

  "And I'm having trouble finding enough people to build them..." Jeff countered.

  "You'll do that at Central on the moon, right?" Irwin asked.

  "Yes, but not likely until after one of the families there finishes tunneling and making apartments. So your project is dependent on my project, which is dependent on their project," Jeff mused.

  "It almost seems like we need one central authority to plan out all of it, so it all happens in sequence properly," Irwin said.

  "That always sounds attractive," Jeff agreed. "But the reality is what you see now in North America. Once a planned source becomes official it can't be allowed to fail. So if I never made my housing we'd be waiting...and waiting...because it is officially coming, and nothing else can be allowed to replace it once it has official sanction. But unexpected things happen to mess up your timeline. We don't want to go down that road. If one undertaking fails we want the others to be able to adjust.

  "For example on the ship project, circumstances have changed. Huian has just introduced me to a gentleman involved in ship-breaking. He informs me that the price of ships to scrap is tied to demand for metal, and the Chinese market for them has been dead with their internal chaos. I shared with him that we expect North America is also going to be in some distress over the next couple days. He advised me that any further disruption of the North American economy will drive scrap prices even lower. We may have a window of opportunity to get a ship really cheap. There are fixed expenses to owning a ship like insurance, that owners are loath or prohibited from skipping. So he expects a surge in their removal from service. We could see some real bargains soon."

  "I understand," Irwin said. "That's why I said almost. I know, intellectually, that central planning never works. But I can see how easy it is to think that way. Control has emotional appeal."

  "The hard part is undoing it once that vision gets entrenched. Because it is usually enforced by law. I don't think the Assembly will let that get started here," Jeff predicted. "In fact I know there is a core group that will call out anybody trying to start it and nip it in the bud."

  Irwin raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You mean call them out – as in challenge them to a duel?"

  "Yes, and the members are all expert pistoleros. You stand zero effective chance of running through them and surviving. As long as they all like how we are living, and agree to protect it, we aren't going to turn into a copy of the Slum Ball. If the Assembly goes soft in the head and bans dueling, or the group collectively decides that Home is no longer worth defending, then we are lost. I know I don't have the skills to contribute," Jeff admitted. He didn't add that he'd been bluntly told his other skills were more valuable to Home and refused as a charter member.

  "Does this group have a name?" Irwin wondered.

  Jeff smiled. "It very deliberately doesn't have a name. It has no existence except as an agreement among close friends. If something doesn't have a name or location it is very hard to counter." Something Jeff, April and Heather had found, and then lost to a certain degree of notoriety.

  "I'm in basic agreement with the idea. Do you have any idea how they recruit?" Irwin wondered.

  "Oh, if that's a personal goal I suggest you go to the range a great deal, and display truly scary shooting skills. Past that it's just a matter of them liking your attitude," Jeff said.

  "I'd like to think my attitude is just fine," Irwin said defensively.

  "But if the skills aren't there you would just be a very principled suicide," Jeff pointed out. "I suspect you are doing more for Home as a banker."

  "Yes, but there is little glory in banking," Irwin complained.

  "Are you getting bored with it?" Jeff wondered. He hadn't sensed dissatisfaction in Irwin.

  "Maybe a little. Do you have any suggestions for that?"

  Jeff shook his head no. "Nothing other than being patient. I find every time things get nice and boring the universe soon reaches out and returns things to their normal chaotic state for me."

  "I guess I'm borrowing trouble. So, you figure I can just wait and someone will make a trouble deposit?" Irwin asked, amused at the metaphor.

  "I think you can bank on it," Jeff agreed.

  Chapter 21

  Heather Anderson woke to faint classical music and a room slowly ramping up to bright. "House, hold the lighting there," she instructed. Unless she stopped it the computer would keep increasing the lighting to an eye searing level. If that and an increase in music volume didn't rouse her it was instructed to start flashing the lights. Only if that failed was it permitted to use sensors to check for vital signs and summon help if warranted. She liked to plan for every imaginable scenario, like most spacers, but she had no desire for her medical privacy to be regularly invaded by her computer network. Security invariably failed as some devious person contrived to bypass all the previously effective barriers.

  It was the first Sunday of the month, which meant court day. Most people worked seven days, but the few who took a day off usually took Sunday. Heather couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten a day off. But it seemed wisest to disrupt her subject's lives, and commerce, as little as possible.

  Breakfast was simple and eaten alone. She dressed a little better than usual. She took court seriously and wished to project that, and a certain personal maturity, by her dress. Her best silk blouse with a wool jacket and full black pants would serve. She had exactly two dresses and saved them for fun. Court was not fun, nor was it meant to be ritualized by any sort of costume. She wouldn't let that take hold.

  Eventually she'd have a formal court with much more impressive architecture. She'd seen plans and drawings. It mattered to others more than Heather, and they wouldn't cut that cubic out until they were several kilometers deeper. Deep enough that the rock was at a comfortable shirts-sleeves temperature. If it made others happy and made anyone regard her court with more respect that was fine. She'd have happily held court sitting on the floor and expected both respect and obedience. Anyone who withheld either did so at their peril.

  Heather's apartment was as temporary as the courtroom, but conveniently close. They might be here another six months before they moved deeper. A year was unlikely. She made sure she didn't have any stray bits of breakfast or other problems showing in the mirror, then walked the sixty meters down the corridor to her private entrance.

  There were six people waiting at the other end of the room, three on one bench and three on another. Sometimes that was an indication there were parties in opposition, sometimes not. Today the three on one bench were spaced out as widely as possible to indicate they wer
en't together. One of them was sitting scowling at the three clustered on the other bench.

  The one surprising sight was a gentleman in full Earth style dress. A business suit with a tie and hard shoes. That was really unusual. They had one family who offered accommodations as a little side business now. The same ones who intended to offer apartments soon. It was more of a bed and breakfast than a real hotel. It was still a very small community. There wasn't near enough news to share and it spread fast. Heather was surprised she hadn't heard gossip that they had such an exotic specimen come in on the last shuttle.

  Dakota her secretary was waiting inside the door, and they stayed to the back of the hall to confer before approaching the table. "Do you know the story on the Earthie?" Heather wondered.

  "I haven't quizzed him, and he didn't volunteer anything, just asked if he had the right place, and did he need to sign in or offer any documents? He was second to arrive this morning after Carol Perlman. He looked a bit freaked out and nervous, but he's calmed down now. Do you want to hear him first?"

  "No, first come first served has been working just fine. Besides, Carol looks upset enough. If we don't hear her first like we've been doing she'll be angry at us too," Heather predicted.

  She already had the furniture in place for the court, which would follow its location as they tunneled deeper. Real wood was expensive and rare. They hadn't stinted on buying solid hardwood furniture of simple design. Showing the grain and color of real wood meant more here than any fancy carving or decoration. It was Shaker inspired she'd been informed. Too heavy for lunar gravity, but it still appealed to their aesthetic sense. Perhaps in a couple generations it would look far too massive to native born.

  Her chair was maple and had arms. It sat behind a matching table set toward the middle of the room that stretched to each side but was short across. She'd used it bare a few times until one of her subjects had gifted her with a brocade altar cloth that draped over the middle third of the table. It was nice, and a lovely silvery white. There were two benches facing each other on the other side of the table. They had no back and the seats were not deep. The idea was to encourage things to move along.

  There were no tables for documents or evidence but the one before Heather. There was a small carpet before the table to indicate where someone should stand to make their case or receive judgment, and no chairs or benches for the public. You had to want to observe badly enough to stand, or bring your own stool. Although it wasn't that hard to stand at lunar gravity.

  Heather was set off behind the table as sovereign, but there were no officers of the court, and no attorneys. No bar separated the public from justice. Anyone could bring a case or petition, and it didn't have to be an adversarial contest. If it didn't touch on the interests of the sovereign Heather would advise or arbitrate on request, or dictate if the people were brave enough to ask for a set decision.

  Dakota looked at Carol. She was poised on the very end of the bench, with a wide gap between her and the Earthie. She wouldn't have sat too close either. The woman's face was a scowl that only needed to show some teeth to be a full snarl. "She said she has some issues with her husband. That's all I know," Dakota revealed in a low voice to Heather.

  "We'll hear her first," Heather repeated. "It will let the Earthie see how we operate a little."

  Dakota walked forward around the table and stood on the small carpet. Heather went to her chair and sat, placing her laser pistol on the table on the right side of the cloth, and her belt pad to the left. A few taps on the screen and she announced: "Recording," for Dakota's benefit.

  Dakota spoke with some volume but unamplified. "Court is in session this third day of October 2088. The Sovereign of Central will hear petitions and complaints. All that is said will be available on the local net to the public immediately after. Complainants are encouraged to study the history of decisions for an understanding of the Sovereign's mind. Be aware you may request her wisdom to arbitrate a private dispute that does not touch on her justice if both parties agree.

  "You may also present a matter for justice. A matter between her subjects may be brought by one party against another. A matter between a subject of the Sovereign and an outsider will only be brought with the acceptance of the outsider. The Sovereign however retains the right to expel from her domain any who decline to be a party to her justice." Dakota looked hard at the Earthie, who nodded.

  "Be aware this is a final court with no appeal. If you ask for a decision it will be rendered and enforced. Matters brought before the court may not be withdrawn once they are presented. The court has the power of life and death, as her weapon on display is meant to show. Subjects are strongly encouraged to settle their minor disputes without the intervention of the sovereign.

  "You may come from different backgrounds. Do not assume that the customs of your village are natural law that will be followed here. Our habit has been to hear cases in the order of arrival. Once everyone is heard court will close and anyone arriving after the close will have to wait until the next court. Step forward if you wish speak." Dakota abandoned the carpet and walked around the table to stand slightly behind Heather to her right side.

  Carol practically launched off the bench and stalked to the carpet.

  "I have a complaint I can't resolve," Carol declared. "My husband has informed me he has married another woman. She has her own cubic and he has been splitting time between us. Well he was...but I kicked him out last time he showed up, so he hasn't been back since. The man actually had the nerve to suggest we all set up housekeeping together. He said the other woman is agreeable to that."

  She stopped and looked at Heather as if that was sufficient information and she expected a pronouncement.

  "And what sort of judgment are you seeking?" Heather asked.

  "Why, to order him to honor his first commitment and not engage in bigamy," Carol said. She seemed astonished she had to explain.

  "Do I remember right? Your husband is George, and you took his name?" Heather said.

  "Yes, George, and I used to be Carol Dobrinski."

  "Where is George? Is he aware you are here, making a complaint against him?"

  "He said he has no complaint, that he's perfectly happy with both of us," Carol scoffed. "What man wouldn't be?"

  "I have to ask, how did you marry George? Did you exchange vows publically? Do you have a recording or a written contract? Even a prenup?" Heather inquired.

  "Since there isn't anything like a marriage license here, and neither one of us is strongly enough religious to hire a minister, we just had a party and announced to all our friends that we were married," Carol said. She looked worried, because this wasn't going any direction she'd anticipated.

  "I see. Well, marriage is a serious contract. I'd suggest if you should get married again you treat it with at least the seriousness you'd give buying cubic or taking employment. We do not yet have a body of law dealing with marriage. Your case is the first one brought in that regard. We have no formal definition of marriage. You have to create a religious or secular contract that defines your marriage.

  "However we do have some small experience with contracts. I have accepted the universal idea that a contract requires a meeting of minds. Obviously you are no longer of a mind in this matter. Yet you said something that caught my ear. You said, "What man wouldn't be?" That suggests to me that you realize there is a tendency in at least some men to favor a polygamous arrangement. I'm sure I don't have to point out it is accepted in some Earth cultures, and within their legal systems.

  "Since you didn't formalize your contract with George I can't ascertain his mind at that time, to judge if he is failing to fulfill his contract. Nor is he here to ask. His statement may indicate he isn't in breach in his mind. Therefore I can't void this as a contract, which would be like an annulment. I find I have no interest in this matter as head of state, so it is between you two.

  "The most I can offer at this point, unless you can persuade him to return with you t
o discuss it further, is an opportunity to formalize a divorce between you, if it is your wish to divorce him. "Kicking him out," is not a sufficiently clear public declaration of intent to terminate your marriage. One person seeking the end of the marriage is sufficient to terminate it. Nor as a practical matter would I ever rule a person must stay married and cohabit with another. I have no delusions of such god-like powers.

  "All you have to do is say you are no longer married to him in open court, and it will be part of the public record. There are also other public announcement channels open to you to do the same thing. As to any details such as the division of property you consider jointly held – you'd have to come to an agreement with him.

  "Even if both of you feel you had differing understandings about jointly acquired property. I am not inclined to administer property claims below the level of real estate. You can be adults and divide the furniture and linens like civilized people, or not, as you wish. A private word of advice however. Everyone who knows you will remember if either of you display graciousness or vindictiveness."

  "I'm not sure I'm ready to do that," Carol said, looking stricken.

  "I understand. I'm sorry for your distress on a personal level," Heather offered, "but as your Sovereign I believe our business is finished, is it not?"

  "Yes, thank you for your time," Carol said. She looked stunned, and walked out looking down, oblivious to the rest of them.

  Dakota stared at the Earthie to give him a clue. He glanced at the others to make sure he wasn't cutting in line somehow, and walked to the carpet.

  "I'm Hannes Lueger. I'm here on behalf of an Austrian based company. I'm accepted to speak before European courts. I hope you'll permit me to present a case. My specialty is intellectual property law. As I'm a foreigner, may I ask a few questions first?" he requested.

  "Certainly. No need to be nervous. I'm not given to taking offense easily," Heather assured him.

  "How should I address the court? Do you prefer Your Honor or Your Majesty?"