"Oh no, Alex is my usual assistant and has been for almost five years. This fellow was newly assigned to me as security. I'm not about to dilute my credibility by trying to make excuses for him. I don't know who he was working for, but if it was State somebody would have told me to turn a blind eye. I'm paid to make things work smoother, not look for something to throw a monkey wrench in the works. If the diplomats want to complain about this when they get here, that's up to them. That might tell all of us something."
"Your internal politics are that complex and conflicted?" the middle Mother asked.
"Isn't it everywhere?" she asked. "He could have been working for any of the military or intelligence agencies, or even a political party or corporation. Maybe even some fringe alien hating group, as incompetent as he was. I'm not squeamish, go ahead and go through his pockets and yank his wallet. You'd go through it at the morgue I'm sure."
The squad leader went through the man's pockets and got a memory stick. Ms Cooper didn't flinch a bit at the sight of the full corpse. In a stiff plastic envelope was a flat black chip a half centimeter square and almost paper thin. It had a tab for a peel back, that was likely sticky underneath. In his waist band was a long slender blade like a boning knife. He raised his eye-ridges and displayed the knife, but handed it all to Ms. Cooper. She flipped through the wallet, announced he had State Department ID and way too much money. "Keep the Taser or toss it as you will," she offered. "Are they prohibited here?"
"No ma'am," the squad leader said. "Local custom is you can carry even a lethal weapon if you like and nobody will look twice or say anything to you."
"Keep it anyway," she affirmed. "I'm done here if you don't need me for anything."
"Ms. Cooper." The youngest Mother caused her to pause. "What concerns me, is the mindset that saw that bug as an advantage. Just so you understand, we are not divided internally like your nation seems to be. There is no advantage to knowing our private discussions. If we have any differing opinions, we will talk it out. We would not be shy to disagree right in front of you and let you see the process, but the first Mother almost always has the final say. I am one of the Mothers, because these two did disagree with the previous first Mother and forced her resignation. That was the first time a Mother has been removed that way in the last six hundred years. Don't expect to play on hidden dissent to have an advantage. It won't work."
"How else are Mothers removed?" Cooper wanted to know.
"Most retire due to age before they die. They find the burden beyond their ability in old age. The Mother before this was removed by the men, because she could not deal with the change brought about by contact with Humankind and the Mothers were too slow to deal with it for the men's patience. It is even rarer that the men remove a Mother by the ax," she said, gesturing at the split body as an example of ax work. "They are very reluctant to do so, but it is their right."
"It's a very simple system shared by every clan on our planet and the history of it is open and well known. The best thing I can say for it, is we are here because it seems to work. It is as stable or better, than your various democracies, monarchies and socialistic associations."
"But there are trade towns and merchants outside the clan system on Derfhome, aren't there?" Cooper asked, pointedly.
"Yes and that is an inequity we are discussing how to end." She didn't let her know how very recent that debate was.
* * *
"Fargone Control, this is the nation of Red Tree destroyer Sharp Claws on approach. We shall need fuel and minor provisions. If you have a double docking open, we are accompanied by a prize with a class C hull. Mail and notices attached." Thor went to get a mug of hot chocolate and waited. The light speed lag was still considerable.
"Sharp Claws you have a berth reserved next to Retribution. By the time you dock the next space will be open, as the Fargone miner Rock Solid is in count to depart. Please yourselves which vessel to place next to Retribution. Mail and official notices attached. May we know the previous registry name of your prize, with the understanding it is pending official approval? We'd like to know for physical data. Also, is it to be charged to the same account for docking and supply fees?"
"Fargone Control, confirm fee authorization with Gordon, commanding Retribution. Captive hull is former USNA deep space explorer Dr. Whitney. Please advise Fargone Immigration we have three crew and fourteen students from the University of Toronto to repatriate when there is transport. I doubt they will have passports or documents, as they did not plan this visit. Perhaps the USNA embassy can be of assistance. I am however asking Commander Gordon to reserve accommodations for them on station. We shall bracket the prize in dock, Control. Thank you."
"Fargone Control this is the USNA freighter Hudson Bay, Commander Erickson speaking. We protest your docking a USNA ship taken as a prize. It amounts to aiding piracy to offer docking and supply to a captured vessel. We are going to take a copy of the control dialog home to document what happened here."
"Hudson Bay, would you explain please what you wish us to do? Do you want us to refuse docking, so they must stand off without provisions? Is your government in a position to rescue this vessel before they run out of fuel and air and water? If you send off a fast drone right now it will be a long wait for such support if they elect to come."
"Of course not," Hudson Bay replied irritated. "You should allow it to dock and make provision for the care of crew, but seize the ship yourselves to hold for USNA authority. It is after all stolen property."
"Oh, you want us to declare war on the nation of Red Tree and unilaterally declare ourselves allies of the USNA. Now that is much clearer. I'm basically just a traffic cop you know. You should be talking to our Department of Foreign Relations. They may ask what your authority is, to seek a treaty with our sovereign nation."
"You are being ridiculous," sputtered Erickson. "Out." A half hour later, a minor USNA consulate official rode a shuttle up and delivered a diplomatic pouch to go on the next Earthward bound drone.
* * *
The suite was full of people, almost all crew. The sofa and seats were all full and the hotel had brought in folding chairs. There were still people standing and sitting on the floor. There was a heavy murmur of voices even though nobody was loud. It smelled lightly of Derf and beer and spicy hot food. Gordon and Thor sat with Lee between them, watching the biggest wall screen run split between the flight deck video of Sharp Claws and a simultaneous system plot of the Earth raid. Most of the room was watching, some for the first time, although it was the third showing. It still got gasps and whistles. Quite a few were viciously attacking the buffet and two staff in white jackets worked to stay ahead of them, wheeling in carts of fresh fare and bussing up the empties and plates.
"The drone is away, asking the Mothers to validate the taking of the Dr. Whitney. They have a copy of this plot too," Gordon said waving at the screen. "I'm thinking the local USNA consulate sent out a drone awfully quickly when you came in. It might not be a good idea to sit at dock here and tempt the USNA to come in and abuse the neutrality of our hosts."
"The same thought crossed my mind," Thor admitted. "But how will we find out if the Mothers want us to do anything different and what can we be doing that is productive? I hate to take a multi-billion dollar ship and just go slink around avoiding contact and seeking no gain."
"I asked the Mothers to send drone messages to Thorn, Bountiful, Heaven and Survey Systems 3160 and 2874, to be held on the public board for pickup."
Thor nodded. "All places of special interest to the USNA, or Earth commerce in general. It's going to make them nervous to see us paying attention to any of those systems, 2874 is the primary gateway to a USNA depot system, but what is 3160?"
"It's the furthest system, to the other side of Earth, that has a public fuel depot. I just want to post a message there so they are scratching their heads, trying to figure out why the hell we might expect to have a ship out that far, on that vector."
"If it was th
e USNA visiting these systems they'd call it 'show the flag' operation. I always thought that was a fancy name for intimidation. I guess that would have some value for us too."
"Hadn't you better move the Dr, Whitney too so they don't try to retake it?" Lee asked.
"Yes and the High Hopes too. I have a mission for them. We need to train two teams on fuel mining. After the close call the Sharp Claws had with the Gilead people, I'm ordering fuel extracting systems for the Retribution and the Sharp Claws. I don't want to be at anyone's mercy for fuel, or make enemies taking it by force. That's going to be standard practice for all Red Tree vessels."
"Send the explorers with a warship each for now," Thor insisted. They can do their training under guard, given the uncertainty of things. The USNA might catch one alone and repay us by seizing it. Wouldn't that be embarrassing?"
"We can do that," Gordon agreed, "and I'd like to reregister the High Hopes as a Derf vessel if the Mothers and principal owner can be convinced to do so," he said with a smile at Lee. "I asked the Mothers permission in the drone we just sent."
"I'm agreeable with that as soon as we hear back," Lee said. "Do you think we could also buy the Dr. Whitney from the Mothers, Gordon?"
Thor and Gordon both were shocked silent, looking down at her aghast. They had no warning she was going to drop such a bomb on them.
Thor recovered first, but tried to blow it off. "Deep Space Explorers are an odd thing to collect. Are you sure you wouldn't rather tea pots, or bobble heads? They're much easier to display."
Gordon didn't crack funny though. He looked thoughtfully and asked, "Why?"
"I've been thinking. I had time for it in jail and sitting around with my relatives. Planets are OK to visit, but I'm not sure I want to be stuck on one a really long time. I liked exploring, but the way we are exploring is too cautious. We are just nibbling away at the edge of a sphere. Pretty soon it will be so big the actual velocity of expansion will fall way off."
"Why is that bad?" Gordon asked her.
"Well if there is anybody else out there exploring more aggressively, they are going to grab all the good real estate before we ever get a look at it."
"Damn right," Fred Pierson said from behind them, standing with a plate of food. "We are bound to run into somebody with starships eventually. We should have Humans and Derf and Hinth on any ship that runs into them to demonstrate the ability to get along and be armed to the teeth when we do, just in case they think we must be pushovers if we do get along."
That was the most any of them had heard from him at one time. His usual level of discourse was an occasional grunt.
"Going out that deep in one ship has risks," Lee went on. "I'd like to see two ships team up so if one has a catastrophic failure the other can do a rescue. Which means you have to run light crews and have sufficient life support to double up. I'd like to have real military weapons too and not just stuff to fend off capture."
"Military grade weapons are expensive," Gordon pointed out.
"You seem so good at taking them I didn't think it would be a problem." That got a huge round of laughter and a few shrill whistles.
"That's fine for now, but we can't start a war every time you need a new batch. Missiles and warheads have a shelf life you know."
"I think I have enough money, but I wasn't planning on paying cash for the ship."
Gordon raised one eye-ridge theatrically. "I hope you weren't planning on my stealing that for you too."
"You know how the clan had to disperse and abandon the Keep? Well, I thought I'd offer the Mothers a plot of land on Providence. It makes the clan a lot more secure to have multiple locations. In fact I think if you have several, it makes attacking one far less likely. Do you think they would trade the ship for that island I own?"
"That actually reverses the problem. That island is over twenty-five thousand square kilometers. It is worth far more than one ship."
"They could owe me," she offered.
"The Mothers are death on debt. Even with no due date or interest, I doubt they'd agree to have such a burden hanging over the clan. Maybe after the war is settled they would sell you the Retribution too. If you want to go really deep might as well have a small fleet. Warships are expensive to maintain and I'd think a single destroyer would be plenty for a clan to retain in peacetime. The island is still a lot to trade for two ships."
"Maybe I could retain the mineral rights and they could co-develop them with me. Part income for them and part pay-off for the island. And if we can get back to peace with the Earthies, the Mothers can pledge the Sharp Claws as part of the Commission fleet and earn full nation shares for our discoveries."
"That might work. I haven't been thinking that far ahead, but the Mothers would certainly like the sovereign share, instead of the explorer cut. You should write in the right to maintain residences for you and your heirs, since clans don't have private ownership of real property within clan lands."
Lee nodded gravely at that.
"If I am relieved of military obligation, I'd very much be interested in a berth for such a deep tour," Bob Colburn, a weapons board tech, called from another seat. That led to a chorus of affirmative cries.
Lee held up her com and keyed it. "Bounce a message back to this addy if you are interested," she suggested. You might talk about it with some friends, if you have some you think you'd want to be stuck with in a ship, for five or six years."
"That's deep," Pierson acknowledged. "But they went out for years on voyages of exploration in sailing ships. We'd be in virgin territory and have a hell of a good chance of coming back all wearing green and filthy rich. I'm still in," he affirmed.
Chapter 50
The conference table was clean of any fancy centerpiece or carafes. There was a table to the side with chilled bottled water. The Mothers decided that was not an inappropriate offer of hospitality to an enemy, like it would be offering a beer or food. There were no pads or pens. If anyone desired notes or recordings they could bring their own devices. Neither was there any projection equipment and they had no plans to use the wall screen. There were no complex issues to explain as far as they were concerned.
There were three massive armed chairs on their side and room behind for their champion to stand and at his request a trooper in each corner on their side. It avoided making the opposing negotiators stare past them at armed men and gave each a corner to his back and a full view of the entire room with overlapping fields of fire.
The table was offset away from the view port side of the room, so there was only two meters behind them. Since the wall screen was behind them, they put a video of a pleasant fall day in front of the Keep on the wall, with the clan going about their normal activities.
What the other side wanted to do with that four meter expanse was up to them. The opposite side had three nicely upholstered arm chairs of human scale and the port precluded them putting up a background.
Their host, Mr. Martin, predicted they would want to bring in a video camera, to link to those unable to fit in and possibly extra chairs for a handful of those who they felt were really important.
They agreed he could have such chairs handy to the conference room if he wished, but insisted they would have to ask for them. The third Mother surprised them by instructing that they not be too comfortable, which got a smile out of Martin. He agreed folding chairs would do and also suggested if the other side wanted to record they should ask for a copy of the recording. He was proving to be a very valuable asset to them, at no cost beyond his normal rates and fees.
The first morning session was scheduled for 10:00 station time. The Mothers entered from the corridor and the Earth Delegation entered from an adjoining room which had been turned over to their use , but not control, as a staging area. If they wished to withdraw to speak, or have assets ready at hand, it gave them somewhere closer than their room. It also had sanitary facilities and an elaborate com console.
The Mothers had a similar room straight across the corr
idor and were happier with the slight separation.
The First Mother sat in the middle as she would have in the Great Hall and she had instructed the two others to sit back at arm's length from the table, to make the ranking obvious.
The two men who entered were in frock coats, which had come back into style again over morning coats and a woman dressed neither to copy a man, nor in what was strictly formal or business attire. She had on full dark pants that came down over black ankle boots and a crepe blouse in pale blue, under a short collarless jacket of a nappy patterned blue. The wide expanse of plain blouse exposed, was used to display a massive necklace of oval sapphires set in platinum. That huge display of wealth defined her status more than anything else visible. She took the center seat, which one of the men held for her. Two more men in business attire came in and stood behind them. A sweet sort of floral scent reached them across the table.
"I'm Evelyn Houke," she introduced herself, "Assistant Undersecretary for the Department of State. These gentlemen are of counsel to the Department. I was asked to establish what the conditions were for this discussion and find out a little bit about you. There is almost nothing published about you as individuals and only the most general information about how Mothers of the Derf rule. Do you mind first of all if we record the sessions with a video camera?"
One of the men standing started to verbally translate to Derf.
The First Mother cut him off with a slash of her hand. "We all speak idiomatic English entirely sufficient to negotiate. The Second Mother can tell the difference between regional accents, if not copy them very well. You are of course welcome to inquire, if for some reason you think we are missing a fine point of the language," she conceded. 'Of counsel' means your gentleman are lawyers?"
"Yes, they have no authority but to advise me."
"You may record from your side of the table, if you are willing to provide us a copy of your recordings. It would be helpful to see how others see us in the recording."
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