The Time Stone (The Time Stone Trilogy Book 1)

by Robert F Hays

  “But, that was eighteen months, this is two thousand years.”

  “The decision made no reference to a limit on time, Senator.”

  “One moment,” the Senator said as he grabbed for another pad. “I don’t know the pay of an...”

  Jason made further entries on his pad. “Mr. Young’s last leave and earnings statement coming through.”

  The Senator glanced at his transfer pad. “This is not in Gs...”

  “Divide by five Senator,” Jason said, momentarily glancing up.

  After a few minutes calculation the Senator pushed away his pad, leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Well Sergeant, I’ll have to consult the legal department, but it’s possible that you’re a very wealthy man. About fourteen million Gs worth. I think the budget can handle that.”

  “Another one coming through Senator,” as Jason spoke the Senators face dropped again, “longevity pay. As you can see, pay in the U.S. Army increased, by a specified percentage, for every two years in service. This is also the practice in the New Columbian Guard. This means we have to include almost one thousand pay raises in our calculations.”

  “But... ah... the percent raise may have changed since then.” The Senator was now struggling for words.

  “It has,” Jason replied, tapping at his pad once again. “It has increased.”

  “But we also have to deduct income tax.”

  “The amount payable is tax exempt. It’s due to a law made to accommodate prisoners of war during a conflict on the Asian continent. Regulations being sent now. The next thing we have to calculate is interest...”

  “In.. In.. Interest? Interest on what?” the Senator stuttered.

  “On the pay withheld. According to the Dorset act of 1843AE, any government pay due, held over twenty weeks, is subject to interest payments. That interest is at the rate of a level one government bond, and that amount is included in the principle annually. The total now comes to a little over fifty two billion G.” Jason turned to Jim. “That’s about two hundred and sixty billion old United States dollars.”

  The Senator opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

  Jason continued. “Of course Mr. Young has over thirty years service. So he can now apply for retirement, at his current pay rate, which includes the increases mentioned. Also Commonwealth law applies for service under unusual circumstances, which this is. As his service time is over thirty years, and no national emergency declared, it is covered under the Bercy act. The serving member can apply for immediate retirement. This can be done, from his or her current physical location, at his or her discretion.”

  “Retirement?” the senator said. “Sergeant Young is only thirty five years old.”

  “Mr. Young has almost two thousand years service. I believe he is entitled to retire.” Jason turned to Jim. “Do you wish to retire here, or go to New Columbia, Jim?”

  “I believe I would like to stay here.” He was now relaxing. The situation was evidently turning in his favor.

  “I will have to calculate pay for unused leave time, which at thirty days per year comes to one hundred and four years. Also, according to his enlistment contract, he is, upon retirement, entitled to travel pay back to his place of enlistment. Where was that Jim?”

  “St. Louis, Missouri.”

  “New Columbian Guard does not issue travel pay, they issue travel vouchers good for travel on commercial liners. There are no commercial liners that visit Old Earth, so travel pay would be applied here. As there is no recent scale to use, rates at the time of enlistment apply. So that is thirty four light years at seventy eight U.S. cents per old mile, plus thirty two cents per dependant. That’s one dollar and forty two cents times one hundred and ninety nine trillion miles….”

  The Senator coughed and fumbled with controls on his desk. “Mr. Cobb, I will have to get back to you on this.”

  “Senator,” Jason said with a smile. “I still haven’t covered two thousand years of serviceman’s life insurance, clothing allowance and his contributions Social Security and Medicare yet.”

  Chapter 8

  Jim dressed for the reception in the personal utility room at the lab. He had a mild underlying feeling of guilt over shirking his military responsibilities, which he took seriously, but, to whom did he owe them? Not to the government of New Columbia, that was a descendant of the U.S. Government in isolation. Without support from the people, that government was, to him, not legitimate. The descendants of the American people were all around him here. Even though mixed with other nationalities he felt these people more his own countrymen than the so called legitimate government of New Columbia.

  Jason was working all afternoon, petitioning the Commonwealth courts and negotiating with the legal department of the New Columbian government. They were talking figures in the hundreds of millions. Jim had requested that Jason go easy. He felt sorry for them. He just wanted to finalize the matter and he didn’t feel that the exorbitant claims were fair.

  The three dimensional mirror bugged him. Everything here seemed to be 3D. Photographs, control screens, advertising posters even the picture on the pack of breakfast food he had that morning.

  Dr. Redmond was making the final adjustments to his own formal ensemble at the adjacent mirror. The doctor folded down the high collar on the black and maroon patterned suit. “You’ll get a chance to see a bit of the outside world tonight Jim. We have to park the transit and walk through the Mall to the reception center.”

  “How big is this Mall?” Jim, finished with his preparations, stood back with arms folded and waited for the doctor.

  “It has over a thousand stores, eighty restaurants and twelve theaters.” Redmond had found his own amusement in impressing Jim with the sheer magnitude of things in the modern world.

  “Hope it’s got moving sidewalks,” Jim said, looking down at his two tone brown, formal shoes.

  “Yes, and horizontal tubes. Your army did not have you walking and running up and down hills and things?” Redmond asked in a teasing manner.

  “Yep, that’s why I don’t like to walk and run. In fact, other than training, the only time I’ll run is if someone’s chasing me.”

  The doctor turned and gave Jim a questioning look. “Did that happen often?”

  “No,” Jim laughed.

  “Well, hopefully it will not happen here. You’re wealthy enough to hire someone to do the running for you.”

  Jim liked the suggestion.

  They walked to the east end of the building complex, then out into the parking lot. Redmond’s transit was a late model six seater. Redmond’s wife’s transit had collected the boys an hour before. They were to stay the night at the doctor’s house. His wife was an affable woman who loathed the functions arranged by the University. She welcomed the duty as a justification for her absence.

  “Open left and right.”

  Two doors of the transit opened at the doctor’s command.

  “What if you have two transits close to each other?” Jim said. “If you give that command to one, will both open their doors?”

  “By the tones in your voice, the onboard computer can tell which way your face is pointed.” Redmond then turned his head to the right. “Close left and right.” He then turned back again. “As you see, it knew I was not giving it that command.”

  Jim got in on the right side. He realized why he had chosen that side and smiled to himself. It was the doctor’s vehicle and he was a passenger. So, in his mind he had to get in the passenger side door. It didn’t really matter which side he used.

  “Mall, east parking lot,” the doctor said as he climbed in.

  “Request clarification. There are two east parking lots at the Mall designated F and G.”

  “G,” the doctor announced before turning to Jim. “It’s a little further away, but will give you a chance to see more of the stores.”

  The transit rose and slowly navigated its way between rows of vehicles. Jim was beginning to recognize the different makes and mod
els. He especially liked the one Doris owned. It was a Wang six seat four door. He liked a vehicle to be utilitarian, and the rear four seats folded down for transportation of gear. An interesting advantage of the driverless transport was that you could load it and send it with no human on board. One could also send the car with instructions to pick up the kids at school and return. If a countermanding order was given by a minor, the parent or owner was first contacted for verification.

  The transit glided out of the parking lot and onto the road. Jim still could not overcome the uncomfortable feeling of seeing the person in the driver’s seat looking everywhere else but the road. He felt like saying: ‘Please look where you’re going’. On corners he still couldn’t stop himself stamping on the nonexistent brake with his right foot. He felt as if there was an invisible maniac at the wheel when it dashed through blind intersections without traffic lights. In his own vehicle, he had located the shade controls. On activation, sections of the transparent dome became opaque. On occasions it was a comfort to be able to black it out altogether. But this was not his vehicle so he felt it inappropriate to make the strange request. For the time being, traveling the streets was not a pleasant experience.

  They were passing through a residential area. Each house was completely different in style and were on, by Jim’s standards, extremely large blocks of land. It appeared to him that they were in a sparsely populated rural area instead of a large city. The Transit climbed the onramp to the overhead throughway.

  “Looks nice, the city, sort of individual, but strangely organized.” Jim was trying to look straight ahead instead of down at the side of the throughway. There were no guard rails; it was an unprotected drop to the ground; which was something else that bothered him.

  “Organized, in what way?” The doctor raised his head trying to see what Jim was looking at.

  “The patterns, the yards blend from one house to the next. Each house seems to have its own varieties of vegetation, but their designs appear to match their neighbors.”

  Redmond relaxed back into his seat. “Oh, I hardly notice that any more. Biological insect control. The properties are computer designed.”

  “What?”

  “The colonists had to bring as many varieties of insects as they could, because each has its place in nature. This includes species that one would consider pests. So the patterns are barriers. Take say, a type of beetle, good to have in one area, fruit trees and such, but not in another. So you lay a line of vegetation that the beetles can not eat between the areas. That slows its spread and reduces the need for mechanical pest control.”

  Jim leaned right and examined the landscape. “Yes, I can see the lines, but they change as they go. There seem to be different types of plants in the same barrier.”

  “The geneticists have come up with hundreds of species, all different in appearance, which do the same job. That’s why they were so interested in your lawn mower. They can only put together genetic patterns from the material they have. So new patterns are a premium commodity, much has been lost.”

  Jim thought of the gallons of pesticides sprayed on the gardens in his street in Killeen. “Pity they didn’t know this biological control stuff back on Earth.”

  The doctor looked at Jim with a curious frown. “They did. The working principles came from the computer banks of the colony ships. A book by a man named Michael Ferrier written in the early nineteen nineties.”

  “Never heard of it before. Why didn’t they use it back then?”

  “That’s what we’d like to know.”

  Jim sat back and contemplated the possibility that it had been too late when such information became available. “How do they remove bugs from areas they shouldn’t be in?”

  “Plant a small area of specially designed vegetation that the insects would prefer over all others. Then use mechanical methods to trap or kill them. Usually a sonic guided laser gun.”

  “Does anyone get zapped by mistake?”

  “Occasionally, but it’s just a small sting. The guidance system knows the difference between a bug and a human. Oh, Mall off ramp coming up.”

  Jim looked ahead and saw the residential properties abruptly terminate and give way to mountains of buildings that stretched for a kilometer or more.

  The transit exited down an off ramp and through a hollow in the side of a building. It found its way down the lines of vehicles. Jim couldn’t help himself, looking left and right for an open space. It was force of habit from shopping at many malls on Earth. In spite of his sustained search they proceeded directly to a parking spot.

  A moving sidewalk conveyed them down a corridor and into the mall itself. Jim found it strangely familiar, even though there were distinct differences in some of the store front displays. But he felt, sort of, at home. A clothing store passed. In the window an automated mannequin stood, sat, stood then struck various poses. The outfit it was wearing caught Jim’s attention. A green shirt and blue jeans. They looked worn, and they looked like his. The outfit he had arrived in. A flashing sign read ‘The Old Earth Look’.

  Jim felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Redmond’s smiling face. “Look over there,” he said, pointing at a vacant store. The sign on the front read ‘Jake’s Old Earth, Authentic Pizza. Coming soon. Cowabunga Dude’.

  Two boys stopped at the store front and slapped hands above their heads. Jim turned, looked down and said to himself. “What have we done?”

  “You’ve had quite an impact all over the galaxy.”

  “I have to buy something,” Jim said, stepping off the walk.

  Redmond followed him. “What do you want to buy?”

  “I don’t know. I just want to use this pen phone thing that Amy gave me.”

  He gazed through the window of the first store. Vending machines that contained small multi colored pieces of something lined the walls. “Candy?” he asked Redmond who nodded. “No, don’t feel like any right now.”

  He continued to walk, peering in each glass window as he passed.

  “These are mostly specialty stores,” Redmond said. “Things you can not get at the big ones. I understand you did some 3V shopping at those.”

  The next store was ladies’ apparel. The fashion of the time was pants for women but an area of the store had dresses. They looked like copies taken from one of Jim’s videos. He stood for a while fascinated by the life like mechanical mannequins. “Na. Not my style. Wouldn’t fit me anyway.”

  Walking further, they passed a pet store and an electronics store. He stopped at the third. Camping equipment. “This one.” He turned and walked through the opening door.

  A sign on one wall above a line of appliances read ‘Camping Sonic Ovens’. Along another wall were various unlabeled items he didn’t recognize.

  An autoserve moved out to greet them. “Can I help you sir?”

  “Yes, tents?”

  “In the back room sir.”

  It moved away and through a door at the rear of the shop. Jim followed.

  Around the walls of the back room lay a dozen cases about the size of an Old Earth ice chest. “How many occupants sir?”

  “Three, er, four.” Looking around at Redmond and smiling he added. “One never knows.” Then back to the autoserve. “Oh yes, and a dog.”

  The autoserve maneuvered its way to the side of one of the cases. A jointed arm extended from its body and touched a control. The case opened and the sides fell down. A roll of filmy fabric unfolded and began to inflate. Jim leaned over and felt the material. There seemed to be fluid filled ridges forcing the erection. It expanded into the classic tent shape. Jim felt the ridges again; they were now as solid as a metal frame.

  “The Laser Pine deluxe. Takes four people comfortably. Fully heated and air conditioned, complete with power units. Just right when you feel like roughing it. Fits in the back of any off grid navigator.”

  Jim turned to Redmond. “Is that a vehicle?” Redmond nodded. “Do you drive it yourself?” Redmond shook his head.
Jim turned back to the autoserve, mildly disappointed. “How much?”

  “Sir, this model is on sale at thirty two G.”

  Jim turned to Redmond again. “About a hundred and sixty bucks, is that a good price?”

  “Yes,” was Redmond’s answer, “I paid forty something for mine.”

  “Ok buddy ya got a sale,” Jim said while grinning and reaching for his pen phone.

  “That’s correct sir. It is on sale.”

  Jim stood confused for a moment then said slowly. “I will buy it.”

  “Thank you sir. We also carry the attachments for this model. The portable bathroom and the 3V tent are also on sale.”

  “The bathroom, yes. 3V tent, maybe later.” Jim smiled. He remembered the contempt he held for people who took portable TVs camping.

  “It’ll be delivered.”

  The autoserve extended another arm with a cylindrical end. A hole about the size of Jim’s pen phone was on top. A small display that read ‘49G’ was on the side. Jim inserted his pen phone into the hole and waited.

  Redmond cocked and lowered his head to check the amount. “Now state your name for the voice print identification.”

  “Jim Young.”

  The display changed to Paid.

  “Doc, why did it misunderstand me?”

  Redmond explained. “Some of these older store models cannot distinguish voice inflection between a question and a statement. This autoserve must be over eighty years old. It also does not understand ‘ok’. That’s an Old Earth expression. No one here ever uses it.”

  “I thought these things would be more sophisticated than that.”

  “I told you that we’re not as advanced as you’d think. There were periods of time when no progress occurred at all. Wars, despotic rule and catastrophes slow everything.”

  Jim chuckled to himself. “It did sound like a 1950s Sci-Fi robot.”

  Redmond smiled. “Have you satisfied your shopping urge yet?”

  “Yep, I guess it’s party time,” Jim announced with enthusiasm.