Jeff smiled. "Maybe this once it was good to show a little temper. They may be more aware that you have a line they don't want to cross. As I said – I don't value their way of doing things all that much. If you don't share their facade of serene inscrutability that's fine with me. You said the little things are going well. Does that mean you have some issues with the big things?"
"That's why I called you. I've been trying to find something for this little burg to do economically to sustain itself. That must be a concern for you, isn't it? You don't want to subsidize it forever I assume?"
"I don't," Jeff agreed. "Yet the terms under which the Chinese ceded it to me were that it was an obligation. I thought it was an artfully contrived way of surrendering at the time. Now I'm starting to wonder if I got suckered into a bad deal. I've tried to interest a couple ship shops into having component fabrication and manufacturing there. Cubic in Home is after all fabulously expensive. I talked to some of the chip makers hoping to set up an assembly facility there. So far nothing has interested anyone. I don't expect you to fix that too. But your initiative and seeing the necessity of it is appreciated."
"When I talked to Feng he told me pretty bluntly that the Chinese here feel they are above that sort of work anyway," Annette said. "They have all been taught in school that that sort of work was exploitive. He said it is the sort of thing peasants did a couple generations ago to escape poverty and is from a time when foreigners took advantage of cheap labor in China. He blamed the failure of that sort of thing for the big economic crash back early in this century."
"I wonder what the people in Germany should blame it on?" Jeff asked, amused. "They have no history of sweatshops and foreign exploiters, but their economy crashed just as badly at the same time. Maybe they blame the Chinese for taking all the jobs. The Chinese certainly didn't see anything wrong with sending most of their manual labor to Vietnam and Laos and North Korea when it was their turn to 'exploit' someone else."
"People always blame their bad luck on somebody else," Annette agreed. "Everyone I've met here has a dread of doing anything they associate with being a peasant. Feng admitted to me that it's only been recently the young people would eat garlic or wear something quilted. Back down on Earth the older style Chinese garments were just starting to be acceptable again and certain hair styles from a couple generations back are coming into vogue again. Feng just looked at me like I was mad when I asked him what we could do that would allow everyone to be an executive. It's infuriating."
"What do you see as a solution?" Jeff asked. "Have you talked with Heather about it?"
"No, I try not to bother her if I can help it. I see she doesn't have any problem with delegating, but people want to bypass the folks she has appointed and get word directly from the sovereign. I've seen her have to be pretty blunt about setting time aside in order to be able to eat a meal without talking business over the dinner table. She's probably nicer about it than I'd be."
"Maybe she should look fierce and put her hand on her gun," Jeff suggested, facetiously.
Annette just rolled her eyes and refused to be baited. "What I'm thinking about is more your area of expertise anyway. Do you think we could start a bank here? I was reading about how Switzerland, Luxembourg and Hong Kong all served as centers for international banking over the years. It seems to me we could do the same given all the uncertainty on Earth. People want to park their money someplace safer than in their home country. It's way too easy to for their government to take it there."
"Have you asked if they'd work in a bank any easier than manufacturing? Jeff asked.
"Not yet. I assumed if it didn't involve getting their hands dirty it would be OK," Annette said.
"I can see that. But why should I create a competing business? What do you have to offer there that our own System Trade Bank doesn't already offer? We have off Earth accounts and storage. We deal in bullion based currency and are out of the reach of their local authority. We offer deep secure storage at Central already," Jeff said.
"Yes, but it's the cultural thing again," Annette insisted. "I've seen your bank site and sign up pages. It's all in English and very few faces on it that aren't Caucasian. Even its being on Home is off-putting to a lot of Chinese. You may see there is a clear distinction between the nation of Home and Mitsubishi 3. But there isn't such a clear cut divide in the mind of a lot of Chinese. Especially older ones who have managed to save back significant wealth. There's still no love lost between a lot of these Chinese and the Japanese such as the Mitsubishi people."
"So what would you have me do?" Jeff asked. "Start up a new bank? We would have a hard time splitting off the funds to do that given the pressure the mess below is putting on us right now. It involves a great deal of work to document everything and fees to be accepted into professional associations. Again, I'm not thrilled at the idea of forming a competitor. If I held a controlling interest and hid it I would consider that corrupt and dishonest even if I resolved not to take any untoward advantage of it."
"It isn't the legal ownership. It's the image. Most people don't really care who owns their bank. I asked my mom what they looked for in a bank when she lived on Earth and she said it was location. They wanted a bank that was easy to visit to get coins or deposit a hard copy check or ask a loan. She said that's how most small customers picked a bank, and only the big corporate customers cared for more than convenience. I wouldn't try to hide the ownership or associations of the bank, but market it differently. Your site to recruit customers and depositors should be in Chinese, with Chinese faces, and obviously written by native speakers not a so-so translation. And the name should separate it from Home. Maybe the System Bank of Central at Camelot. Although quite a few of them have complained about the name Camelot."
"Which means there should be a System Bank at Central," Jeff pointed out.
"Shouldn't there be anyway?" Annette asked. "Central is growing and going to be bigger than Home someday, see if it isn't."
"You're probably right. It will get cheaper to live at Central and I don't see that happening here. We have physical limitations Central doesn't. What in the world do they have against Camelot?"
"I had to tell the story of Camelot to several. It's not a common theme of western literature that gets told in their school system a lot. It invokes no positive responses. When I did explain many of them found it frivolous to name their town after a fictitious city. Though they did like the idea of a fortified city or a castle. Apparently their Great Wall and other impressive ancient fortifications are a real source of cultural pride. "
"They did? Well if it's marketing you want make a logo with an old fashioned castle with towers and the castellations along the wall," Jeff suggested, tracing the notches out in the air with his finger. "Maybe the System Castle Bank of Central at Camelot?"
Annette looked up sharply. "You know... Heather as ruler wasn't such a hard sell here. Despite all the years of party rule the Chinese hold fond thoughts of all their Emperors and distinctive dynasties. If Heather would agree perhaps you could style it The Royal Bank of Central at Camelot."
"She might grant us some sort of charter," Jeff speculated thoughtfully.
"That's the bare idea. I knew you'd want to make it your own. I certainly don't know much about banking, but it seems to me China is a big enough mess now that a lot of rich people would be happy to have someplace that seemed trustworthy to send at least some of their funds. There have to be other places that would not be offended by the Chinese marketing and language."
"True. China has had a lot of trading partners in the Middle East and Africa who learned the language to do business and aren't off-put at all by a Chinese face. However if your marketing theory is effective I may think in terms of opening a branch to appeal to Europeans too."
"Good. I'm glad you don't think the idea is foolishness. I'll keep looking for other ideas," Annette promised. "I just haven't come up with anything else."
"No. It's not foolish at all," Jeff agreed.
"I'll tell you something else. Before central banking both the Arabians and the Chinese had their own systems of money management based on networks of individually responsible local money lenders and merchants. I will try to create a business plan that highlights a trusted responsible manager to mirror that system instead of the Western corporate model. That is how we work the System Bank actually. Home has no laws authorizing or governing corporations. It's just been a disadvantage to promote that difference to Americans and Europeans. They aren't comfortable with the concept of depending on personal integrity. Somehow they believe integrity can be imposed by law and regulation. I'll consider the idea and get back to you."
"Thank you," Annette said. "If it works out I'll feel I was really productive for Heather when my assignment here ends."
"Yes, but if I did this then when you feel your assignment for Heather is over you may have to decide if you want to run this proposed bank for me." Jeff closed the connection on her startled face before she could respond. Apparently that wasn't in her plans.
* * *
Chen joined Gunny and Mackay at their table in the hotel restaurant. The place was filling up. It appeared to be popular with locals as well as guests. He was dusty and had only washed his hands and face in the restroom. That wasn't like the usually meticulous Chen they knew. He looked satisfied however and pulled a chair out and planted himself with a heaviness that suggested he was tired.
"I need a shower," Chen said, "but once I go up to my room I'm straight for bed and I'm not coming back down. I'm starved too so I better take care of that if I want to sleep well. I rented a scooter and was surprised how tiring it is riding one when you haven't for a long time. It uses odd muscles that I haven't used for years."
The waiter appeared and Chen ordered a pasta dish and another carafe of red once his partners assured him the house wine was decent. After a sample he invited them to help him with the wine while he made his report.
"I distributed a number of robotic spy bugs for our masters. It's amazing how tiny they have made the current generation. A few at the port and near several agencies, as well as the Chinese consulate. By late in the morning we should be able to get reports from what they are hearing and seeing all condensed to eliminate the things we don't care about such as workers discussing yesterday's football games over coffee in the morning. We should know where our efforts will be effective and concentrate there."
Gunny saw a shiny mote in the air fly past behind Chen. It startled him because he hadn't seen a single bug since they arrived on the island. It turned and made a circuit of the Oriental gentleman at another table behind Chen, ignoring the lights and lit candles on the tables that normally would attract an insect. It paused straight in front of his face. It was entirely too shiny to be an insect.
"I dropped a few at the local police station just in case they take an interest in us," Chen said looking down at his food.
The little flying creature hovering briefly in front of the man at the other table turned away. He made a waving gesture to shoo it away long after it had started to leave on its own. He was slow and never really focused on it, swatting absentmindedly. Gunny had the strong impression it had been examining the man's face. He considered the idea it could be running recognition software.
"Tongan Customs is in the same building as the police so that made matters easier," Chen said taking a sip of the wine again.
The mote took a long curving pass over their table but turned sharply and went straight for Chen's face. Chen had received the same gene altering treatment April and several of her friends enjoyed. It decreased his reaction time considerably over what he was born with. He made a swatting motion with his free hand the little flyer had to swerve around the hand, then he ducked his head to the side. Gunny had never received the treatment. He just happened to be one of those one in a hundred thousand freaks of nature who were frighteningly fast.
Gunny's hand flashed out so fast the normal eye couldn't track it and snatched the speck out of the air right in front of Chen's nose, after it had evaded Chen's hand. Pain shot up his arm from the little robot. It did something nasty to his hand but he didn't let loose. He just ground his teeth together and snarled at the pain clutching his fist even tighter. He could feel a buzz in his palm as the little device tried to get loose.
Chen was twitched away from Gunny's fist, but recovered quickly, and picked up on what was happening even faster. "It's like what I was distributing – but hostile!"
Gunny took his identification card off his neck. It was on a tough synthetic cord and he doubled it around his wrist. "My hand is numb already. It's some kind of toxin." He stuck a butter knife through the cord and turned and turned until it bit into the flesh and cut off the circulation. He grabbed the cruets on the table for salad and poured vinegar past his thumb, flexing it a little to let it run down to the bug. "Hah, they didn't make it water proof. It stopped buzzing when it got wet. Get me to a hospital, and if I faint don't let the cord come loose whatever you do."
It was almost morning with a band of light showing on the horizon before they could leave the hospital. Not that the doctors had released him. He'd been admitted and questioned heavily by local police. They hadn't been able to recover the drowned bot. The Tongan police now had that in a urine specimen jar. Chen had rushed upstairs to recover their things while Mackay took him to the ER, abandoning most of their clothing and the hidden cache, but grabbing one set of clothes for Gunny. That was a good thing since they hadn't seen his other clothing since the emergency room.
When he caught up to Gunny and Mackay, Chen reported that an ugly mob had materialized in the hotel lobby demanding to know where the spacers were. Coming down stairs he'd calmly gone straight in the restaurant again on seeing the angry faces. Being Asian and covered with road dust had probably helped him look like a local. But anybody trying to bypass them and go out the doors would have attracted their attention.
When they frightened a room number from the clerk they all went up the stairs without leaving a watch behind in the lobby, so Chen made his escape. The mob was all fit young men and not all of them looked like locals. Chen felt they were hired muscle but not all foreign professionals or special forces. They also weren't connected to the local police or they would have known to find them at the hospital.
Gunny's hand was gone and a bandaged stub at his wrist. He was looking at a year to grow a new one and then months to regain strength and dexterity. His hand had been a ruin from the bot's injection, all discolored and swollen past any repair.
The doctor would have been surprised Gunny was so functional, newly from surgical recovery. His knees were still wobbly and he was sick to his stomach, but it was a miracle he was vertical. Chen cheated and gave him a shot of military stimulants. He'd pay for using that in a couple hours but he needed it right now to stand and walk. He got dressed with his partners help and headed down the fire stairs after a quick disconnect of the alarm system by Mackay. Chen went ahead again to secure a boat, leaving them his scooter. The hospital had been quiet before the day shift and the street was near empty. Too empty really. The two of them on a little scooter were conspicuous. They went slow and tried to look harmless. Gunny hid his stub in front of him and leaned on Mackay like he was drunk. It wasn't very hard to fake. He wasn't in the best of shape.
When they reached the agreed intersection and pulled over Chen materialized from the shadows to led them to a boat, leaving the scooter parked against the dock yard fence with the key in it. Odds were it would be gone before sunup. There were a couple other boats along the docks with fishermen prepping for a day's work, but Chen led them to a pleasure motor craft. He spoke in Chinese, which neither of them knew, so they concluded it was bravado, making noise so it appeared that they had nothing to hide.
"Go forward and lay down," Chen commanded Gunny, "before you fall down. You look like hell."
"Can you run this thing?" Mackay demanded. "I've rented a row boat in a city park before and that is the sum
of my experience with boats."
"I can, "Chen assured him, "and I checked the tanks to make sure it has fuel. The first one I looked at was near dry. Can you at least untie us? Can you figure that out? Don't skulk like you have no business doing it. Walk tall and confident."
"Yeah, that much I can do," Mackay agreed, and slipped off in the dusk. He forced himself to walk not run, and tossed the lines back on the boat. A rumble told him the engines were started and he jumped back aboard as soon as he tossed the second line. The boat was moving already but he managed not to fall in the lagoon. As he joined Chen he saw their running lights were on too.
"Where are we going?" Mackay asked. The sky was steel colored and the horizon bright now.
"I told Jeff I intend head due north at a fuel conserving speed and we'll be picked up by shuttle in the open ocean if weather permits. I'll check the weather once we're clear of the reef and see how the waves are. If it's really bad we'll need to redirect to an island. I don't know these waters or the currents and it's going to take all my attention to just get out of the lagoon. Would you look and see if you can find papers for this vessel?" Chen asked. "We will try to compensate the owner in the fullness of time for stealing her."
"Why not just tell them where to find her after we lift?" Mackay suggested. "They know the currents and should be able to locate where it has drifted from a start point if they don't delay too long."
"That would be true, they might, but we aren't going to do that," Chen told him. "We might have to do this again sometime so it's a bad idea to teach people how we operate and that we can do an open ocean pickup. No, as much as I'd like to do that I'm going to scuttle her."
* * *
"Our mission to make sure the last minute supplies were loaded failed," Jeff said, "I'm sure we'll get some of them, but they had to retreat. Gunny was terribly injured and they might have been targeted further. However, if Gunny hadn't intercepted the attack bot aimed at Chen he would be dead. You can put a tourniquet on your wrist to seal off a hand but that method is terribly ineffective when the same lethal injection is on your face.
April 6: And What Goes Around Page 21
