Family Law

by Mackey Chandler

  "Longer you talk the longer you live. If you're done so soon it's no skin off my nose," he offered. "Take him away boys," he said jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

  "What do you mean?" Buckley demanded. A couple Loonies on each limb and two on his belt carried him easily. "Where are you taking me?" he insisted louder as they carried him. Finally there was brief muffled shouting cut off by the metallic thud of a heavy hatch closing. After a few seconds there was another softer thump that they felt through the floor more than heard.

  "Where did they take him?" Lee whispered to Diana.

  "The nearest maintenance airlock I'd imagine," Diana breathed in her ear. "Loonies are very sensitive about anyone who threatens pressure. They all seem to be inordinately fond of breathing. Deliberately breach pressure and you are expelled." A quick look at Lee's face left her unsure she was understood. "Without benefit of p-suit," she added.

  "I was afraid that's what you meant."

  The fellow with the baton came back to the militiaman. "Mr. Buckley got talkative when we stuffed him in the lock. You might want to look for somebody named Burris, who works for the Park. It didn't seem worth dragging him back here or making all these folks wait longer."

  "OK, the Park knows about that now," he said working his com pad.

  Lee realized suddenly their crowd was blocking both entry and exit, so the normal traffic in and out of the site was disrupted. It looked as if the walkway itself had been shut down.

  "Thank you for your help and for recording," the militiaman spoke loudly. "Please send any video or testimony to this address," and activated his pad in broadcast mode to share his address all around. That done the crowd started dispersing and he stuffed his brassard back in his pocket and looked at Gordon.

  "Well big guy, I think you better have somebody disinfect that and maybe sew it up. You need a guide to get you to a clinic?"

  "No, no thank you sir. Richard here is a local and head of our hired security. He can get me some treatment and about fifty grams of aspirin. I've got a pounding headache."

  "If you were human you'd have more than a headache," he pointed out. He also took him by the elbow and got him moving back toward the main corridor. "I wouldn't be too hard on your security. That dark haired fellow tried to knock you out of the line of fire. If he'd succeeded he could have taken the bullet for you."

  "Why did you ask the people back there what the problem was, if you saw what happened yourself?" Lee asked him.

  "Well, Missy, I know what I thought I saw. But if I tell them that story first it prejudices their testimony. Better to let them speak for themselves, given how unreliable eyewitness testimony can be. I'm real sorry you had such a nasty experience in our fair city. I'm pretty sure from his papers and because he didn't understand Loonie customs that Mr. Buckley was an Earthie. But there is a lot of bad feeling against non-humans now-a-days, even out-system. I don't personally hold with that, but nothing much I can do to eliminate it either. So, you be careful now, hear?" They were back at the main route and their limo was waiting for them. "Bye," the old boy offered with a nod and took off down the pedestrian lane.

  "I didn't even get his name," Lee lamented.

  "It's on your pad," Mark reminded her, "but you don't need that. He's old man Lewis, Honey. He's the Mayor."

  "Oh."

  Chapter 25

  Richard did not take Gordon to a clinic. Instead, the hotel physician on call was waiting for them, back at their rooms. When they entered he was reading his pad and making a few notes. He had an associate sitting close by his elbow reading the pad too.

  "Mr. Gordon, I'm Dr. Gold. I first need to tell you that I am not trained or certified to treat Derf. We made a quick inquiry of the local hospital and they only had two people on their specialties registry who were really qualified to treat Derf, both of whom are presently on Earth. If you wish, one of them can be asked if he will take a fast shuttle directly to Armstrong, or since you seem to be ambulatory, you could be taken to them."

  "Doc, if I'd gotten hurt like this out on a hunting trip at home, or when we were out exploring the Beyond, we'd have just washed it out with some disinfectant and sewed it up with some plain old sutures from the first aid kit. I'm sure you can treat a simple wound just fine. Let me order something from the hotel and you can do it right now. "Room service, we need a large pitcher of orange juice, at least two liters of vodka and a bottle of aspirin, quickly please."

  "Yes sir," a female voice said from the speakers, "we'll have a cart down to you in about four minutes."

  "Now, that's interesting," the doctor said. "In humans, alcohol and aspirin together can easily lead to gastric distress, bleeding even. Have you used that combination together before without any problem?"

  "Sure, but I can digest things that a human can't. I know humans will dry age a good piece of beef, but when we have humans to dinner and want to do steaks on the Barbie we have to be careful. What a Derf considers a nicely aged piece of beef, will send humans running for the exits pinching their noses shut."

  "I'm Dr. Hanson," the lady sitting with Dr. Gold introduced herself. "We have a class of large omnivore in our Northern hemisphere, which has mass and claws very similar to you. Their muzzle and teeth are much more prominent, pointed that is and they also have a habit of making a kill and letting it age before feeding on it. Their mouth is much more suited to feeding on small items like berries and grubs, but of course they don't have hands to aid gathering and eating like you do. They have been observed to use tools for food gathering though. I'm guessing there are probably quite a few physical parallels between the two species."

  "I've seen pictures of a Grizzly bear," Gordon admitted. "I don't think we will be trying to establish them in the wild on Derfhome. Earth Boar are already a sufficient pain in the butt."

  "Dr. Hanson is a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine," Gold explained. "She used to have a large-animal practice in North America and now practices in Armstrong. I'd hoped to have her actually close your wound given her experience if you approved."

  "That sounds fine to me. Where do you want me Doc?"

  "You're so tall. Could you lie belly down on the floor? I'll get a blanket folded to put under your head so we don't soil the carpet. And would somebody get several large towels from the bathroom please?"

  Stretched out Gordon tucked his lower arms in close, but made a nest of his true arms for his head much like a human would and closed his eyes. "Isn't this when I'm supposed to ask if it will hurt?" he asked.

  "This is so neat, having a patient who can talk with me," Hanson said.

  "The novelty wears thin quickly," Gold assured her. "We can't give you a local anesthetic because there is nothing in the literature about how Derf react to the common human sorts. We might inject the site to save you a minor pain and then have you drop dead from allergic reaction. Do you have any idea what protocol was followed to validate the safety of aspirin for Derf?

  The lady doctor interrupted. "The good news is there are no fractures on scan and I don't see anything nasty that looks like a blood clot on the brain. I'm going to shave the hair back from the edge now," she warned. There was a buzzing as she turned on electric clippers.

  "I can tell you exactly how it was tested. My partners and I found an asteroid cluster in a new system. It was rich in Platinum group metals and meant we would turn a profit for our first trip and be able to outfit and go out again. We celebrated with a tiny bottle of champagne they brought along for a breakeven discovery, then we switched to homemade rocket juice, straight from the still, white alcohol of about 140 proof. The next morning we were all so hung over we declared a shift break to recover. When they got out the aspirin and were taking some I said – give me some of that – and they passed the bottle over and I chugged down about a quarter of the bottle and went back to my bunk to sleep it off some more."

  "That is one of the stupidest, most irresponsible things I have ever heard," Dr. Hanson said indignantly. "What's wrong with you to ta
ke a chance like that?" she asked thumping him firmly on the nose with her index finger for emphasis.

  Gordon's eyes opened slowly and he looked cross eyed at the disapproving finger still pressed to his nose. He couldn't hold back a huge grin. Lee saw Dr. Gold pale at the display, but Dr. Hanson actually leaned closer and stared him down eyeball to eyeball.

  "Yes Mother, I was stupid." Gordon admitted. "Wow, I haven't said that in a few years."

  "Males," she said dismissively, "They never grow up. I knew it applied to men and horses and dogs, but I guess it holds universally across even xenophylum. Hold still, I'm going to spray it with an adhesive gel and then pull a couple tacks in the middle where it's widest. And yes, it's going to hurt like hell and you can whimper and moan all you want, but don't think about moving around while I'm trying to work."

  "No ma'am, I wouldn't think of twitching. If I may ask, how did a large animal vet come to be on the Moon? Do they have a zoo here now or something?"

  "I'm fifty-five years old now. I'm getting too old to get in a stall with a stallion or wrestle a pig and all the joy of discovery from sticking your arm up a cow's ass past the elbow has long disappeared. I never did find any diamonds in there. I'm ready to trade big nasty patients, with owners who are in a cyclically impoverished industry, for little spoiled lap pets with rich owners, who can afford medical procedures for their frou-frou dog that a third-worlder would envy."

  "Hmm, I am imagining that has its own set of frustrations," Gordon predicted.

  "Yes, mostly from the owners, not the animals. I have old ladies who feed a fifteen kilo dog a diet suitable for a teenage human and wonder why it is obese. Or owners who can track every twist of the stock markets real time, but can't remember to give their cat medication. You offer what help you can and if it's effective you rejoice and if it is pointless you have to remind yourself that you can't change human nature single handed. Either way you bill them and it buys the groceries and pays the air bill."

  "Air bill?" Lee asked, worried. "Nobody has said anything to us, Dr. Hanson. They seem, uh, protective of their air here. I hope we aren't in violation."

  "There, I'm done," she told Gordon. "Keep your grubby little hands off it, until the gel falls off on its own. You can shower with it, but don't be scrubbing at it." She started packing.

  "Just call me Gwen, Dear. I'm sure they'll bill you for your air before they stuff you out the airlock," she joked. Looking around at their faces she saw the horror. "Oh shit. I stuck my foot in it didn't I?"

  Richard cleared his throat and grimaced, "The fellow who shot Gordon got a free surface tour, as we natives so quaintly put it. Suit rental not included. Don't worry Lee, the hotel pays for your air. You don't have to worry about air fees unless you immigrate."

  "My God, they really do that?" Gwen asked. "I thought it was just rough humor."

  "It wasn't for shooting me," Gordon explained. "He blew a hole to vacuum with the ricochet. I don't think there is a worse crime to a Loonie. It makes sense if you think on it."

  After a bit Gwen nodded a reluctant agreement, "Like stealing a man's horse in the old west. It wasn't the horse; it was that you were leaving a man to die in the wilderness, if he didn't have his transportation."

  "It will be on the local news for a couple days," Richard assured them. "There is no deterrent value in a terrifying punishment, if you don't make it well known."

  "And it will be on the Earth news too, because it gives them a chance to paint Loonies as dangerous barbarians and the Moon as an undesirable destination for emigration," Richard added.

  "Not that it is paradise," Dr. Gwen said, "It still beats the hell out of The People's Republic of North America."

  "Where's that?" Lee asked innocently.

  "That's sarcasm Sweetie .'People's Republic' is a barb at governments who use that prefix because they are nasty hellholes that don't serve people. They tend to ruthlessly run little socialistic banana republics, which are usually cults of the personality. They spy on their citizens and use the carrot and whip heavily with emphasis on the whip, if you make the slightest disloyal slip of the tongue."

  "OK, I'll have to look up 'banana republic' but I get the thrust of it," Lee said. "I've had a banana," she remembered.

  "I'm not all that interested in politics, but it was starting to get irritating," Gwen explained. "I lived in a big apartment building when I was in Veterinary school. If I didn't allow the old bat who was the building political watchdog to come in and visit when she pounded on my door, she'd denounce me as suspect and have the school down on my case. I just didn't have time for all the stupidity."

  "Homeland Security Auxiliary was what they called it, but really it was a chance for a gossipy old woman to poke around in everybody's business and they couldn't say no easily. Then when I was in practice I found out the county agricultural agents did the same thing, guarding against a non-existent hazard to food production. As if the farmers were going to bring the republic down by sabotaging their own livelihood. You wouldn't believe the hours and dollars wasted on such idiocy."

  "The only real benefit was to the county agents, who got a few bucks under the table to spy on a bunch of farmers. Of course a few of them felt they had to accuse somebody of something from time to time, or they weren't earning their secret beer money. That and the sheer bureaucratic mass, slowing business down, did more damage to the country than any skilled saboteur could."

  "Local politics sound complicated," Lee said.

  "Let's just keep clear of it," Gordon suggested. "We have enough at home keeping the Mothers happy with us."

  "There is a smart man, crap, smart Derf I mean," Gwen corrected.

  "I have the advantage there," Lee pointed out. "If they get too outrageous William will chop their heads off for me."

  "Whoever this William is dear, do you loan him out?" Gwen asked hopefully.

  "It's complicated," Lee admitted.

  Doc Gold left, with apparent relief. Lee noticed he never actually touched Gordon. Gwen packed up and looked ready to follow, but Gordon took her aside and spoke quietly with her before she left. He seemed to be offering her a job.

  * * *

  "Are you ready to go down to Earth? Gordon asked over breakfast the next morning

  "I've only been asking every day!" Lee reminded him indignantly, "How about if you quit being mysterious and tell me what the holdup is?"

  "I've been diligently looking into it," Gordon said waving a fork with several whole Italian sausages on it. "The thing is they want either a passport, or a spacer's working papers to gain entry. And if you have a passport they want you to apply for a visa. I've had Stanley working on it and he agrees with me that spacer's papers are the way to go."

  "Couldn't I get a Derf passport?" Lee asked.

  "That's sort of tough, Lee. Derf don't really have passports. If we wanted to issue passports all the same, from each Clan, a Mother would have to declare it in a law and have it circulate and be accepted by all the other Mothers. I can't see that happening without several rounds of changes and maybe even a challenge or two in the end. For sure it would take years. Maybe that is something we can ask the Mothers to do in time, if we have a whole lot more credit with them than right now. At present most Derf who come to Earth either have a spacer card, or they have a hand written letter from a Mother authorizing them to act for the Clan to trade. The way most Earth governments deal with that, is by regarding the trade letter as diplomatic credentials. They add a couple blank pages to the letter and stamp them on entry and exit. So they view each Clan and Keep as a separate nation."

  "Should we have asked the First Mum to give us a letter?"

  "I was tempted, but you know when I offered to carry freight for them she was very specific in telling the new Third Mum to make her own trade arrangements. So I was very reluctant to stir up a new controversy after all we'd been through. The Mothers are just so jealous of their prerogatives you never know what is going to offend."

  "So how do
I get documented as a spacer? Since that's all I've been all my life, it should be easy enough."

  "Stanley says he has convinced the Board that you can apply for a card on the basis of your Derf citizenship and the fact you can form contracts as a Derf. They were only willing to back date it to when you assumed Derf adulthood at first. However, Stanley pointed out your parents had written instructions for me to assume your guardianship six years ago. It's complicated, but he says since you were never registered as a North American, you were a Derf by declared intent of your parents' from the signing of that document. They are willing to concede that actually working as a spacer trumps any age rules and they will issue papers retroactively to the date of your parents will, if you can pass the exams and pay your back dues and a 'fine' for late payment." Gordon made a quote tick in the air at 'fine' with his outside thumbs extended and claws showing. He even added a wink to the statement at the end.

  "OK, a wink and quotes. You're being facetious, but I don't know why. Can you just explain it to me instead of making it a lesson?"

  "Sure, you get enough points for remembering facetious I'll give you the rest. There hasn't really been anyone like you apply before, so they don't really have any rules; they are making them up as they go along. The Spacer Society isn't really a union though; it's more of a benevolent society. You know what a union is?"

  "Yeah, but the history I've been studying talks about guilds more. I understand they are similar."

  "They are, but some countries have unions and some outlaw them. Indeed there are some that have guilds again. The Spacer Society started off similar to some charities they had for seamen back on Earth. They tried to encourage good behavior from sailors in port, when they weren't noted for especially being pillars of the community on shore leave. Also they took care of sailors when they got dumped by their ship in a strange port and needed repatriated. Eventually they took up caring for family and orphans of seaman when they were lost. Sailing was dangerous back then. A lot of ships went out and were never seen again and nobody had any idea what happened to them."