April 6: And What Goes Around

by Mackey Chandler

  Jeff stopped and looked thoughtful. "Or just stop paying the utility bills and the power company will shut it off for you. If that doesn't drive the last diehard local customers away you can triple the prices on everything left in stock. The government can get you for price fixing or selling under cost to drive others out of business, but they'll never take you to court for being too expensive. You might even get it down to one manager to make the gesture to unlock the front door until the end of the year and a security guard."

  April looked at him like he was mad. "How do you know all this labor stuff?"

  "You have been studying banking and economics since we founded the bank and you came home from Earth. You asked me at the start what to study so I knew what direction you were going from where I pointed you. I've been studying too, but different aspects of it. There was no point in us duplicating the same areas. I gave Heather stuff to read too but she's been so busy with Central. I haven't asked if she's kept up with her material. I can see she barely has time to eat and sleep. You, I know you have, because you keep talking about it when something like this surprises you," Jeff said.

  "But you'd have an empty shell of a building with half a dozen people and no customers sitting for the rest of the year with empty shelves. It's all a farce," April objected.

  "Yep, I agree, it's ridiculous, all of it. At the end they'd probably shut off most of the lights and the last handful of employees would just sit in the break room and collect their pay until the year runs out. Jobs are that hard to get so people have no shame to milk it to the last day. The police, the town government, the state police, the company are all playing make-believe because of the laws.

  "Probably the only honest players are the drivers, unless they are the ones telling the small town police which loads are worth taking. A lot of business in North America has been a farce for the last century. They make an empty show of following the letter of the law instead of the spirit of it. It's all a parasitic drag on the economy. Come on now April, do you believe the government economic statistics they publish every month?" Jeff asked.

  "No, that didn't take me long to figure out. In fact the last two census surveys have been pretty useless for anything."

  "That's the conclusion I came to also." Jeff agreed.

  "Then the police in Salado aren't any different than the crooks who hijack a truck. Did you know a driver won't stop any more at a truck stop that doesn't have armed security?" April asked him. "At least not a company driver. They're not allowed and the company is paying the premium for fueling up at a guarded lot."

  "Well, they don't have to hide the loot like a small crook. Economically you want to look at the cause of this and the consequences," Jeff told her. "The small town couldn't collect enough taxes to keep functioning. Once it got to the point they couldn't support the police department they had to do something or lose their jobs with the city. They can write traffic tickets, but private traffic is down and speed traps get publicized. If there aren't enough speeders they have to write false tickets or starve.

  It's a small step from that to shaking down passengers for cash and jewelry on some pretext. But not all states have forfeiture laws. And it's dangerous. Occasionally you shake down somebody wealthy enough to give you trouble and every now and then somebody you stop has far bigger issues than a speeding ticket and he shoots a cop.

  "Stopping a truck that belongs to a big corporation is a known quality. The driver has no stake in arguing with you. The truck itself is worth quite a bit if you auction it off, or you can demand a cash payment from the company to redeem it and not have to even go to all that much trouble. The goods can be auctioned and a certain amount skimmed and divvied up between officers. Nobody is going to scrutinize the manifest. Those spoils are tax free sold on the black market and the rest goes to auction or a regular buyer who has agreed to take the loads and redistribute them."

  "But Best-Price may actually close down some stores. All those jobs will be gone and where will people go to buy their stuff then?" April demanded.

  Jeff was amused but a little dismayed. She was all indignant over strangers and things far away she couldn't change.

  "That's the larger consequence. The cops in Salado don't care what happens to people in Austin. They are looking at surviving this week not a couple years from now. The stores will close up and the parking lots will get gated off and grow up in weeds. There will be other smaller stores open up that get their goods delivered in small trucks that can drive around places like Salado. They have to charge more because they don't have the efficiencies of the big operation, but they survive. More of the same sort of goods go black market too. It makes life harder for everybody but it still functions, mostly."

  "Isn't there any higher authority to shut down a police department like that?" April asked.

  "It sort of depends on the politics of the store owners and the city government. Their own city government may be afraid to try to rein them in. The local officials live there and can be intimidated. As far as state or national police – have they supported the administration in power? If you are a big contributor you may get some help or they might look the other way. That's why a lot of big businesses contribute to both sides in an election. No matter who wins they can point out that they gave to their campaign."

  "But, it cancels out!" April said.

  "Apparently not in their minds," Jeff said. "Too many do it for it not to be working for them."

  "It can't keep working like this. It's going to bust all the way and break down," April insisted.

  "You'd think so. I appreciate how it offends you to see injustices and stupidity. But you have to stay detached because predicting when is a dangerous game in business. They can keep coming up with ways to keep it working over and over when it looks impossible. They change laws and regulations, start wars and print money. If you get emotionally invested in their failure you may try to set a time and predict when it won't work anymore. You can lose your shirt. Rather," Jeff said, "you can lose our collective shirts. A lot of people have tried to short industries they were sure were doomed. Then they change the rules on you or some big event like a hurricane or a war alters everything and that bet turns sour."

  April nodded. "I could have made that sort of mistake easily. Thanks."

  "My pleasure," Jeff said. "I wouldn't let you make that mistake. You've started out studying the theoretical side of the economy because that's where I pointed you when I gave you a reading list at the very start. It's good to know how Earthies view economics academically. It helps to predict what they may do.

  "But there's a constant assumption among the professionals down there that history will repeat in similar circumstances and that behind all the numbers the investors moving them will act rationally. They don't. They may for a time, but that can all be washed away in minutes by sudden mob movements of fear or greed. I've been looking more at the political side of it and of course the history of the politics.

  "I didn't give you that to study because every time people act crazy it upsets you. It's fine that you care if the people in Austin won't have a place to shop, but you're going to see a thousand stories like that. You'll have to distance yourself from it or you'll be all indignant every day. It'll wear you down. "

  "I had no idea how complicated it would be when I said we should start a bank," April said.

  "Oh, but I'm so glad you did," Jeff said. "It's such a mess that having our own bank is our best protection. We know we're not going to go to the bank one day to find our money gone and the doors locked. Not while we own the doors."

  "You make me feel better Jeff. Thanks. I'm going to the club tomorrow for dinner. Do you want to come along?"

  "Sorry, I like to but have I to be with Dave and one of his customers, but thanks. Have fun."

  "I will. I'll get Gunny or somebody to go," April said.

  Chapter 5

  You'd think a free supper and show at one of the best clubs would be easy to give away. Well there were
only two nightclubs right now, but still... you could reasonably make comparisons to New Las Vegas. April thought they were making a very good early showing at the business for their population level. You didn't expect New York City level amenities in what was basically a small town. Even a wealthy one. Yet April was alone after asking three people.

  The Fox and Hare was busy. It had been so busy of late that April felt obligated to inquire what evenings were less solidly booked before taking a table. Their host and maître d' Phillip Detweiler hadn't wanted to answer her at first, firmly insisting they would accommodate her at any time. He'd been equally stubborn when she had earlier suggested she wasn't poor and in fairness to the other owners she should pay for her service. He'd pointed out that he was one of the other owners and he'd see it paid out of his share before he's present her with a bill.

  April didn't know if he'd ever reserved a table for himself. He was an owner to do so, but a minor one and didn't get as large an offsetting cut of the profits. Allowing him to pay for her would be even less fair so she dropped it. April couldn't figure out why he felt so obligated to her. She'd never done anything special for him personally as far as she knew.

  She was an owner but hadn't even been in from the start. She'd inherited it from her brother. She'd had the sign out front made, and other little suggestions, but Phillip was here every day making it work. As far as she was concerned what he was doing was much more valuable, but he always treated her like she was special.

  April inquired of the accountant finally and found out that Wednesdays and Thursdays late in the month were the slowest days. That appeared to be accurate since there were three empty tables, something she hadn't seen other days. She was certain there wouldn't be any open on a weekend. Even though everybody she asked had a commitment, she didn't want to cancel at the last minute on a slow night. She took a table for two against the wall. The wall side was a nice upholstered seat and the other side empty because they brought a folding chair if somebody sat on that side.

  The Caprese salad was a light appetizer. It would leave her hungry enough for the seafood fettuccine she'd had before and knew to be ample even for her appetite. A reduced alcohol dry white wine went perfectly and left her clear of mind even if she started on it before the main course. Her waiter tonight was Jesse Duval. She'd first met him and his wife Helen almost a year ago. They'd been visiting Home for life extension therapy, something not legally available at home in Spain. They had returned to Home recently but insisted they were now Jesse and Helen instead of James and Elena Alphonses. They never broke their cover identity with her or anyone else as far as she knew. She knew they couldn't do that with their doctor, but that was an entirely different matter.

  There had been confused news reports after their return to Earth about high Catholic officials infected with something and a hunt for terrorists wanted for spreading an infectious agent. Since some of the common life extension therapies were administered using a viral carrier she and Gunny suspected the couple had somehow broken quarantine. If so, they were smart to flee. The crazy Earthies felt inflicting a longer healthier life on somebody to be a heinous crime.

  Jesse had applied to the Fox and Hare and gotten a serving job with ease. Not even mentioning April as a reference. He was good looking and projected good humor without it seeming strained. The host had confided in her that Jesse had already turned down a couple job offers from customers impressed with his manner. If they only knew he'd been responsible on Earth for managing a major charity. He was way over qualified to be a server and would make more from the sort of tips that were quiet confidence and overheard conversations than cash on the table.

  April thought his wife the brains of the couple at first, but changed her mind and appreciated him more now. She had the sudden thought she should tell Chen, who was running Jeff's intelligence efforts, to recruit Jesse. His wife Helen had landed a job with a small firm that did PR and advertising on Earth for space based clients. It would surprise her if they both continued working for others long term. They were smart enough to make more on their own.

  It was getting near the start time for the entertainment this evening. On a quiet Thursday it would be a singer or a pianist, not a band or a series of acts. Two of the empty tables filled and with just a couple minutes until the lights dimmed the last empty table near her in Jesse's section was claimed by a middle aged couple. April was happy to see it filled on a Thursday.

  They were interesting, no doubt at all they were Earthies, but they had all the signs of life extension therapies. Their apparent age suggested that they'd been older than was usual when they got treatment. Tourists were often well dressed, if Earth in styles, it wasn't cheap to lift to Home after all, but these two were better dressed than usual. His jacket was perfectly tailored and April knew the little purse the woman carried was about five thousand EuroMarks. He carried himself with authority. Not the self-conscious ramrod stiffness of a control freak but the real self assurance of someone who didn't know what it was to feel intimidation.

  Phillip, the host held the lady's chair for her after switching it around so they both faced the stage. She was obviously used to having that done for her by how smoothly it went. The host went away and Jesse was serving drinks to the next table over. Once finished there he tucked the small tray under his elbow and turned to the newcomers. His face went through shock, then fear and despair. He looked over each shoulder in turn seeming to be surprised he didn't find hands on him. April saw something very unusual was happening and triggered her spex early to record the encounter even before he looked over his shoulders.

  When Jesse looked back at them the man made a small restraining gesture above the edge of the table, palm down. Jesse bent his knee and for a second April thought he was going to kneel before them, but the man made the outstretched hand flutter emphatically and frowned, which seemed to stop him. He was still frozen to the spot where he was standing, completely flustered and not responding normally.

  The host getting the high sign from the bartender that something was amiss turned back. The woman saved any confrontation by getting up and hugging Jesse. She looked past him to the worried host and waved him away with a smile. She was a big woman, as tall as Jesse and held his elbows to his sides, leaned in close and spoke low to his ear, smiling and visibly calming him. He finally gave a few nods of agreement though if he said anything it was too low for April to hear. When she sat back down Jesse went off to the bar.

  He must have gotten a drink order while the woman was close. He had just a few words with Phillip, looking embarrassed and leaving him still looking dubious. By the time he returned and served the couple Jesse seemed composed again.

  April sent the video to Jeff's man Chen, suggesting they should know the identity of this couple. She didn't expect a quick answer. Sometimes it was several days before Chen responded to a message from her. This time he answered in a couple minutes, just as the lights started dimming.

  "Jon's people said they came in two days ago on the regular shuttle from ISSII. They are traveling as Ferdinando and Sancha Jimenez which seem to be false identities. A net search and Interpol inquiry shows no hits except similar names of historic persons."

  "Are the historic personages Spanish royalty?" April asked, having a sudden idea.

  There was no immediate reply. A couple more minutes went by before Chen came back. "Yes, one of the kings in Spain before it was really one country, King of Leon and Count of Castile and his wife. The first of the kings of Spain to claim to be an emperor back in the early ten hundreds. Are you a big history buff or did you arrive at that by some other route? Sometimes you freak me out."

  "A different route entirely," April admitted, but volunteered no more. "Would you please have one of your underlings find photos and brief biographies of the last king and queen of Spain and send them to my pad?"

  "Sure. Any deadline on that?" Chen asked.

  April looked at the couple. They seemed to be enjoying the lively pianist
who was just starting, had some sort of wine and were sharing a small appetizer. They looked pretty firmly ensconced for a meal and the show.

  "Within the hour if that is practical. If you need reimbursed for the research this is personal not mutual business with my partners," April told him.

  "That's easy," Chen said, ignoring her offer. "I'll have it sent to your pad in a few minutes."

  Despite the misleading way he said it Chen didn't hand it off to a research associate. He wanted to see this himself. When he looked he was surprised to find the Spanish succession was in dispute and some turmoil. There hadn't been any big public stink about it, but apparently the current official head of state and his wife had retired. They didn't say he had abdicated. It was much more mysterious than that and involved the 'retirement' of a number of other high government and Church officials.

  Chen looked at the video April had sent him and the news service photos. It couldn't be... They were far too young and the Crown and Church were death on Life Extension. But that nose! You could split logs with a nose like that. The sort plastic surgeons promise and could only approximate. Their children on the other hand were all accounted for in recent stories at very public activities.

  He forwarded the files to April's pad, appending information about the apparent chaotic state of the Spanish secession and hesitated to add anything. Finally he simply said – "Look at the nose."

  Indeed, it was a magnificent nose. Suitable for looking straight down if one chose to. The owner didn't look to be minded that way. He was relaxed and eating a steak which was trying to hide beneath a pile of mushrooms. It amused April when she realized he was chewing in quarter time to the piano. She wondered if he realized it? The appetizer tray was gone and she noticed they only had a glass of wine not the whole bottle.

  When Jesse checked on her she didn't need anything but she asked him, "What is the bartender's name, Jesse? Does he manage the wine too?"