To Wake the Living (The Time Stone Trilogy Book 2)

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To Wake the Living (The Time Stone Trilogy Book 2) Page 5

by Robert F Hays


  Jim quietly smirked as he understood the extremely uncomplimentary current slang the man used. He gave him a wave of appreciation then turned and continued to walk.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Carol said, tugging on Jim’s sleeve.

  They quickened their pace down the store lined hall.

  “As a registered interviewer he cannot legally report what he himself sees. He has to get someone else to talk. For that, he needs their permission. As you know, privacy laws here are very strict. Let’s go in here; I need a couple of things and it’s commercial property where he can’t follow.”

  They entered a small novelty shop. Carol walked to a shelf containing pocket flat screen receivers that displayed the three dimensional 3V programs in two dimensions.

  “What’s the difference between an interviewer and any other newsman,” Jim asked as he browsed a rack of pen sized voice telephones.

  “They’re the lowest of the three classifications. Other than describing where they are and whom they are interviewing they can only ask questions. The next class up is the narration newsman. They can describe what they themselves see as well as interview people. Then there’s the top one, the editorial newsman. They are the only ones that can actually give their own opinion or interpretation of what’s going on.”

  “I take it that education plays a big part in their level.”

  “Yes, an editorial newsman has a university degree similar to a doctorate. We don’t want someone interpreting an event when they have no idea what they’re talking about.”

  “They can talk on any subject?”

  “No, they can’t even stray outside their own specific field of knowledge. That’s why we have specialists amongst the editorial newsmen.”

  “It’s that crucial?”

  “Oh yes,” Carol said in surprise, “the media are our means of forming opinion. A slanted or bad report could push us into a war or something. They’re one of the most influential professions in the galaxy.”

  “I suppose this Weis guy never made it to the next level.”

  “He used to be a narration newsman but lost his license. It was something about a story he covered. He was told that there was another less sensational side but failed to cover it. The certification board declared it bias in reporting and took his license.”

  “Ah ha. We had ones like that on Earth, but you just had to consider the source and believe or disbelieve from there.”

  Carol gave Jim a skeptical look. “Yes, but there’s always a minority that’d believe them. Didn’t that cause problems?”

  “Sometimes, mostly due to popular stupidity. There was a quite able congressman once that lost an election because a newspaper report referred to him as a devout heterosexual that practiced celibacy before marriage. It also called his wife a self-confessed thespian.”

  Carol stood staring at him. “The people must have been stupid.”

  “Yep, and Earl’s from that time. That’s what worries me about having him along. It was more uninformed than stupid. Hopefully he’ll be teachable.”

  After a number of minor purchases the couple left the store. Weis stood waiting for them.

  “Do you know who they are?” the newsman asked another bystander as he blatantly followed them.

  Carol turning with a furious expression “Listen Weis, we’ll have you arrested for harassment if you follow us further.”

  “Wait Carol,” Jim said, grasping her by the shoulder. “I should give him a couple of minutes. That way he’ll go away, and it’s news that we’re going on our honeymoon. I’ll restrict the interview to that only. If I don’t do it, he could probably find someone to say something bad about us.”

  “Mr. Young, I’m only doing my job,” Weis protested.

  “Ok, bring out the cameramen,” Jim said.

  “Jim, be careful what you say. He’s very tricky.”

  Three men appeared from behind a small kiosk carrying a large hand held vertical translucent screen. The object with its tens of thousands of fiber optic receptors was a portable three dimensional camera. They stopped just behind the newsman as one aimed a small microphone in Jim’s direction. From the distance of their pseudo hiding place Jim deduced that they were listening to every word spoken through some form of electronic device. He also presumed that Weis had the standard earplug and staff of advisors in a remote location who could inform him instantly of any information he wanted. Jim felt a mild intimidation knowing the man’s formidable backup.

  The newsman turned to face the camera. “This is Randolph Weis for the Herchill network at the Batalavia City spaceport. With me today is Jim Young and his new wife, Carol.” Weis then turned to face Jim. “Mr. Young, what are you doing here at the spaceport?”

  Jim paused while choosing his words carefully. “I am about to leave on my honeymoon. We were just married yesterday.”

  “Congratulations, and where do you plan to go on your honeymoon?”

  “Well, we thought we’d visit the hanging gardens of Prarine on Regis for a start then figure things out from there. It’s a, sort of, plan as we go vacation. We want to go where we feel like, when we feel like it.”

  “A very nice choice for a first stop,” the smiling man said. “Tell me, is there any truth to the rumor that an Old Earth colony ship has turned up with a full complement of live passengers and you have been asked to investigate?”

  Jim hesitated while staring at the man and mentally grabbing for words. “No.. ah.. this is the first time I’ve heard anything like that. It’d be very nice if something like that did happen, but I believe that to be in the realm of impossible fiction.”

  “Come now Mr. Young,” Weis said with a cynical smile. “I have just been informed that a stress analysis of your voice indicates that the last statement you made was possibly not the truth. Could it be that you’re keeping it a secret to advantage your own personal wealth?”

  “Listen here Weis,” Jim snapped, “what I said is what I said and that’s the end of that subject.”

  “Now Mr. Young, you are being quite evasive. Members of the public who are in the commercial sector would be quite interested to know if it’s true. What villainous activity are you up to in concealing a fact like that?”

  Jim turned to Carol. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  “Mr. Young,” the newsman said in a belligerent tone as the couple turned to leave, “you did say a couple of minutes and that constitutes a verbal contract. Would you like me to replay your words to refresh your memory?”

  Jim turned and strode two paces in Weis’s direction. “Would you like to conduct the remainder of the interview while I punch your lights out?”

  Weis rapidly pivoted and ducked behind the nearest of his team. Leaning to one side, he continued the interview from safety. “Mr. Young, I warn you, my legal representative is preparing a law suit as we speak. Now, tell us more about the colony ship. Is there any covert political operation you are covering up?”

  “Yack the law suit,” Jim said as he followed Weis around the soundman.

  The cameraman took a few skipping paces backward as he tried to swing the screen around to keep up with the action. Weis glanced over his shoulder anxiously to avoid tripping during his rapid retreat.

  A crowd was gathering. The majority seemed most amused at the events taking place.

  “A little faster and you can catch the creep Jim,” called a man from the crowd.

  “Mr. Young,” Weis said nervously as he ducked behind a second team member, “the colony ship. If they’re all as vicious and innately violent as yourself, then the public has a right to know. Is that your final destination, the ship?”

  “At the moment the destination of my fist is your front teeth.”

  Jim dove around the team member and caught hold of a sleeve. Hauling Weis into the open, he pulled him close and looked him in the face. “Next question?”

  “The colony ship, is it...”

  Weis’s question was cut short by a thwackin
g sound as Jim delivered a solid right cross. A rousing cheer instantly followed from an approving crowd.

  * * *

  Jim sat in a spaceport lounge talking on his pen phone. The conference call was with Doctor Redmond and his legal representative John Crump.

  “There’s no problem,” John said. “Weis tries to intimidate those who do not know the law. When you said a couple of minutes you also mentioned the honeymoon. That instantly became part of the verbal contract. When he first brought up the ship it voided the contract. The second time constituted an invasion of privacy by a member of the news media and the third a verbal assault. Also, he used the word innately when he called you violent, that was defamation of character. If he tries to sue, then we could claim your actions as self-defense against verbal assault in the public media. I just got an injunction preventing airing of the...” John broke mid-sentence for a small chuckle. “...interview. I enjoyed the ending and wish I could keep a copy for myself, but that’s illegal.”

  “It wasn’t live?” Jim asked in surprise. “I thought all interviews these days were live.”

  “No,” John said. “There isn’t a network in the galaxy that would carry an interview by Weis direct. Too great a liability.”

  “Jim,” Redmond said in a sullen tone. “It’s unfortunate that this has leaked out, but space is a big place. It’ll be near impossible for anyone to find the ship by themselves.”

  “Why does it have to be kept a secret?” Jim asked.

  “Exploitation,” the Doctor answered. “Unscrupulous people could make a very lucrative venture out of manipulating the new colony. The colonists would not know their best course of action in this society, or what we consider valuable.”

  “That I can understand,” Jim said, looking down at his hands.

  “The fact is, you’re the best one to send. You have more money than you need or want and have little in the way of aspirations to power.”

  “I see.” Jim paused to think for a moment. “John, can I go, or do I have to answer questions from the authorities?”

  “You can go. I have talked with an old friend of yours, Inspector Ouimet of the city police. He assured me that no action will be taken.”

  “Fine,” Jim said with relief, “it looks like we’re on our way then.”

  * * *

  “Ready Rick,” Jim said to one of the Lydia’s three crewmen. The young man looked up as they entered through the side hatch on the right.

  Rick returned his attention to the instrument panel. “Just have to get clearance from the port authority.”

  Jim was taking classes in piloting a shuttle himself through the family’s new corporeality room. Colin and Michael had succeeded in sufficiently improving their grades and one was purchased. A second was installed aboard the Lydia so that Jim could continue toward his pilot’s license. He had twelve more hours of simulator to perform. The educational program transmitted the results to a Commonwealth license issuing authority when complete.

  “Hold on,” Rick said as the safety restraining arms reached out from the bottom of their seat’s backrests and gently secured them around the hips, “catapult release.”

  They felt the instant acceleration as the shuttle hurtled skyward at an angle to the horizon. It was possible for the craft to take off under its own power but the electromagnetic catapult was considered more economical and less polluting than the ion drive engines.

  The comfortable seats and plush padded paneling were new. The shuttle was thirty years old and in excellent condition. He had chosen muted shades of blue for the interior as it reminded Jim of a used Italian sports car he had once wanted to buy. Lack of money forced him to settle for a Toyota Corolla instead.

  Twenty minutes into the flight, gravity dissipated and Jim pushed himself away from the seat performing somersaults and generally acting more his oldest son’s age than his own. Carol joined him and they swung each other around, jumping from wall to wall laughing and giggling as they tumbled just above the seats. Rick had an obvious smirk as he glanced over his shoulder.

  “You know what we could do if we were alone,” Carol whispered.

  “Don’t mind me,” Rick said. “I’ll just keep my eyes on the controls.”

  “I think we’d better wait ‘til I have my license,” Jim said. “Rick might run us into an asteroid or something while trying to take a peek.”

  Rick burst out laughing. He was a very friendly man in his mid-twenties. As a former employee of the Montoya Freight Company, he’d held a minor position but was qualified for a more responsible one. His former company had no appropriate openings so its owner, Santiago Montoya, instantly recommended him as first mate on the Lydia. The Montoya family businesses prided themselves in never standing in the way of a good employee’s advancement, even if it meant losing them.

  “Lydia in sight,” the pilot announced with an air of pride. He was obviously pleased with his new job and the craft on which he was second in command.

  Jim reached up and touched a control on the ceiling. A panel slid open revealing a small observation dome. Both Jim and Carol pulled themselves up and looked forward at the speck that was their new ship.

  “If you want to stay up there, hold on,” Rick announced. “I’m about to begin deceleration.”

  “Go for it,” Jim said and reached back for the circular handrail at the back of the dome.

  As Carol also took hold, the slowly increasing virtual force swung their legs up until they could stand on the flat surface below the rail on the forward side of the bubble. Jim’s effective weight increased until it was about half his weight on the bright blue planet with swirling cloud formations that could be seen to their left.

  They held on tight as overbalancing backward would have them fall the six meters to the front of the cabin. The instruction manual stressed the hazards of moving around during acceleration and deceleration. The eye tells the brain that down is toward the deck of the ship. A mental conflict between that and the direction in which they would fall had caused many an accident in the past. The manual stated that an unrestrained person could maneuver around the craft, in relative safety, if they paid constant attention to the forces involved.

  “I could raise the two seats below you so you could sit and be more comfortable.”

  “No,” Jim replied, “this way’s more fun.”

  “I agree,” Carol added.

  They both looked down past their feet as their ship gradually increased in size. Its navigational as well as interior lights became visible after a few minutes.

  “Oh, it’s beautiful,” Carol said, examining the slender lines of the luxury craft. “It looks better from here than it did in that 3V image. It’s a pure work of art.”

  “Yes, and an excellent tax write off too if I use it to visit my companies on other planets a couple of times a year.”

  Carol let go one hand from the horizontal rail now over her head and slapped Jim on the shoulder. “You’re about as poetic as a brick.”

  “Not poetic?” Jim said, sounding hurt. “I can be as poetic as you are. Listen to this.” He paused for a moment and cleared his throat. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day,” he said quoting an old poem whose author he couldn’t remember. “Yes I can, you’re hot and sticky,” he continued misquoting the next line of the same poem.

  Carol punched him hard on the upper arm.

  “Ow!” Jim said, grabbing the site of the injury. “I can see that married to you I’ll be black and blue for the rest of my life.”

  “Would you shut up and watch the scenery,” she said with a fake smile.

  The transparent dome of the observation deck came into view. In the soft lighting they could see human shapes sitting in armchairs in a small circle.

  “Hold on tight,” Rick called. “I’m going to turn the shuttle over so you can see the ship better as we pass over it. Then we’ll swing under the starboard side to the docking mount underneath.”

  The two held on as the torque creat
ed by inertia attempted to twist them to face the opposite direction relative to the shuttle. Their weight decreased to almost zero as the shuttle slowly glided over the huge seamless transparent dome on the top of the ship. Three of the seated figures jumped to their feet and, looking straight up, waved as Jim recognized Karla, Dr Chin and Earl.

  At a distance of ten meters, Jim tried to read lips as he returned the wave. Earl seemed the most excited and raised a glass in a salute.

  Their feet swung down and they stood on the seats below as the shuttle made an inverted dive down and under the ship. It slowed to a stop then ascended into the base of the ship where a cavity was contoured to exactly match the shape of the shuttle. There was a mild vibration and a clunk as clamps rotated into place.

  Rick pushed himself away from the seat in the direction of a hatch on the left side. They heard a pop then a short hiss as it opened. Jim and Carol dropped down and launched themselves toward the hatch, kicking off from the backrest of the seats below the dome.

  Captain Mull met Jim in the passageway to the shuttle dock. “We’re ready to get underway at any time,” she said in an official manner. “The Commonwealth cruiser will meet us just before we reach the jump point.”

  “Any word from Halbert?”

  “The liner with your farmer friend will meet us shortly after that. “

  “Will we be on schedule?”

  “Just one problem, the cruiser cannot wait long, it’s overdue for its meeting with the fleet off of the planet La Helena. Things are heating up there and it looks like war with the Commonwealth in the middle.”

  “Let’s get there. Under the circumstances we don’t mind a bit of speed.”

  “We’ll have to make three, four point five G accelerations to make it in time. Compensators will reduce that to one point five and the artificial gravity will be off to avoid a vector effect. Slightly more uncomfortable than the standard three G but it cannot be helped.”

  “Ok, tell us when to strap ourselves in.”

  The Captain gave Jim a curious look. “Strap yourselves in?”

  “Old expression, secure ourselves I believe is the current one.”

 

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