Book Night on Union Station (EarthCent Ambassasor 13)

by E. M. Foner

  “You’re going to run a story about the book signing in the Galactic Free Press?” Kelly asked.

  “Of course,” Chastity said. “The book is a bestseller. That makes the whole event newsworthy.”

  “It’s a bestseller? But it just came out.”

  “A category bestseller,” Walter explained. “It’s a book industry thing.”

  “What category?”

  “Paperbacks for artificial people.”

  “But it’s for humans. It says so in the title.”

  “That’s just a branding thing. The book is more of a joint autobiography than a how-to guide, though it does have quite a bit of practical advice about personality enhancements. With the successes of Quick-U’s new product, we think it will do well with non-human-derived artificial people in translation.”

  “How many copies have you sold?”

  “I have seven left, and we both started with sixty,” Chastity said. “Walter’s out, so that makes a hundred and thirteen.”

  “A hundred and thirteen sales is a bestseller?”

  “It is in the paperbacks-for-artificial-people category,” Walter said. “One sale would have been a bestseller. It’s the only book in the category.”

  “Isn’t there something unethical about a newspaper that owns a publishing company creating bestseller lists that feature its own books?”

  “It’s called vertical integration, Mom,” Dorothy chipped in. “I think it’s great that Thomas and Chastity topped the charts with their first book.”

  “I’m going to check the index in my copy of Economics For Humans for an official opinion about this when I get home,” Kelly warned.

  The last artificial person ahead of them in the queue thanked Chance for signing her book and moved sideways to slide it in front of Thomas. Dorothy stepped forward and gave her newly acquired copy to Chance, and Chastity replaced the seven unsold books in an empty box next to the table.

  After promising Chance she would attend the dance party, Dorothy moved down to Thomas, and the Pyuns approached the table, with Woojin setting the stack of ten books in front of Chance. Lynx produced a hand-written list and began with, “Make the first one out to M793qK.”

  Chastity returned to the ambassador’s side and asked in an undertone, “Well?”

  “I thought it was very nice.”

  “Not the book signing. Our offer.”

  “Your—would you believe I forgot about that? I guess I wasn’t sure you were serious, and then I got distracted with our first book club and…”

  “I’ll bring by what we already have for an outline after the party. You can decide once you’ve looked at it.”

  “EarthCent For Humans,” Kelly mused. “Will it be a bestseller?”

  “I think that can be arranged,” the publisher of the Galactic Free Press replied.

  Seven

  Joe met Herl at the entrance to Mac’s Bones and led the Drazen spymaster through the current collection of ships undergoing repairs to the area near Dring’s corner of the hold. Herl seemed uncharacteristically subdued as he helped Joe remove the tarp from what first appeared to be some sort of wreckage, but then he grew so excited that he couldn’t keep his tentacle down.

  “I don’t believe it! It’s a genuine Terror Ride—these things are legendary. When Clive told me that you’d come across a load of carnival equipment in one of the ships that Paul got from the Stryx abandoned property auction, I rushed to the embassy and asked Bork to check our records. That ship was stranded in Union Station’s long-term parking about five hundred years back. Terror Rides were banned from Drazen space well before then, but that just makes everybody talk about them even more.”

  “Your people banned a carnival ride? My experience with this type of equipment is limited to a couple of summers working as a mechanic’s assistant at the state fair when I was a kid, which mainly meant crawling around the inner workings with an oil can and praying the rides didn’t start on their own. I haven’t quite figured out how to unfold this one yet, but it seems to be brilliantly engineered.”

  “It’s a masterpiece,” Herl agreed. “The rides are so beautiful to watch in motion that they figured prominently in several big-budget immersives that were shot before the ban. I’ll send Bork a list of titles and I’m sure his embassy can find you copies that will play on whatever you have for a home holo system.”

  “Thanks. How does this thing work, exactly? Paul speculated that the red wheel with the giant spoon attachment is the entry point, but we couldn’t figure out how the riders get from there to the white wheel, or to the flat blue cylinder that reminds me of a standard centrifuge ride. And what’s with all the blade attachments?”

  “As you’ve guessed, the red wheel is the starting point, and the spoon attachment scoops up each rider as he enters through the turnstile. From there, the rider is flung approximately twenty meters to the spoon on the white wheel, using fail-safe mechanical synchronization.”

  “It throws the riders through the air from one wheel to the other?”

  “Flawlessly. The only recorded problems were due to multiple riders hopping the turnstile to be thrown together, and then pushing off from each other in mid-air. You can hardly blame the engineers for that. The horizontal column telescopes out to create the separation between the wheels, but of course, it’s all collapsed for storage at the moment.”

  “And what did the giant spoon on the white wheel do with the riders next? Throw them back?”

  “The white wheel throws the riders through the rotating blades and into the centrifuge—it’s padded as you can see—where they stick to the outer wall due to the rotational velocity. The centrifuge cylinder, which you’re looking at in the parked position, spins at an ever-increasing speed until it reaches full occupancy, after which it turns upside down. The trick is to time the throws with the movement of the landing spots to prevent accidentally stacking riders and to keep the impact shock within an acceptable range.”

  “No wonder they called it the Terror Ride. The kids must have been scared witless.”

  “The children loved it,” Herl said. “It was the parents who were terrified. There’s just something about seeing your offspring thrown through the air between two giant spoons that triggers a primal fear response. Only a half-dozen were built before the public health authorities had it banned. There were just too many parents suffering from sleep disruption, weight loss and general nervousness. The carnivals tried removing the rotating blades, which are only there for show, and even offered to run the ride in a tent so the adults wouldn’t have to watch, but it was too late by that point.”

  “From what Woojin told me, I bet it would go over big with the Cayl. They seem to thrive on dangerous stuff.”

  “It’s not dangerous at all,” Herl insisted. “It just looks dangerous. Other than the intentional rule-breakers I mentioned, about the worst injury the ride ever caused was tentacle bruising from the centrifuge, and that’s just part of growing up Drazen.”

  “How about this one?” Joe asked, pulling the canvas off of a much smaller contraption that featured two opposing belts and some sort of plunger.

  “Oh, that’s just a Battling Topper. You put the kid in a hollow top with a window, the belts spin it up to a few hundred rpm, and then the plunger pushes it out the shoot. We set them up in a closed rink so the tops bounce off each other, though there’s not much the kids can do to control them.” He paused and looked at Joe thoughtfully. “I don’t think that Human children could take the high rotational speeds without getting very sick and perhaps suffering inner ear damage. But you could probably sell it to one of the Drazen kindergartens on the station for use during recess.”

  “That explains all the big, hollow tops we saw. How about the scissor lift? Back on Earth we used things like that for working under ceilings, changing light bulbs and such, but it looks like it can extend much higher than makes sense with such a light base. It would probably just tip over.”

  “That’s a b
asic Throw-and-Catch. It’s common to see them at country festivals.”

  “You mean that the platform goes up so fast that whoever is standing on top gets thrown straight up into the air?”

  “Exactly, but the trick is that it provides controlled deceleration on the landing. They were originally developed as an alternative to air bags for rescuing people and pets stuck in high places.”

  “The physics sounds pretty straightforward but the platform is kind of small. Do you think it’s safe for humans?”

  The Drazen scratched behind his ear with a tentacle while considering his response. “There was the issue with kids trying to jump during the throwing cycle in order to get higher. If everything goes well, it just means that they land a little harder, but if the rider deviates from a strictly vertical jump, that can translate into missing the platform on the way down. It’s just basic vectors.”

  “I guess we’re going to be selling all of these, then,” Joe said. “I feel kind of funny asking, but if you have some spare time to help me set them up, I’ll cut you in on the sale price. I’m sure they’ll be worth more if we can demonstrate that they’re in working condition.”

  “I’m overdue for a vacation, though I may just tell my colleagues that I’m here consulting for the training camp of our Human allies. You might even keep the Throw-and-Catch and let Thomas use it to test the mettle of your trainees.” Herl put a friendly hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’m no expert in reading Human body language, Joe, but you look like I’ve disappointed you in some way.”

  “The truth is that I was thinking the rides might find a place on the colony ship the Stryx arranged for EarthCent. There’s plenty of space on Flower, and the more people we can attract to visit her at the stops the better the chance we’ll have of connecting with them.”

  “I agree that an amusement park would make a fine addition to a circuit ship serving Human populations. The something-for-everyone approach would seem to offer EarthCent its best chance of making an impact.” Without even glancing around to identify the new arrival, Herl continued with, “Hello, Paul. I was just telling Joe how much I envy your trove of classic Drazen rides.”

  “We’re going to have to sell them,” Joe added. “They’re just too dangerous. I think I’ll ask Kevin to look around for some used carnival rides while he and Dorothy are visiting Earth so he can meet her grandmother. Maybe Kelly can get somebody in the president’s office to do some leg work for us.”

  “Wrenching on old Earth equipment would be a change from working on alien ships all the time,” Paul said. “Any chance you can help us prep these rides for sale, Herl?”

  “Joe already asked and I already agreed. Is the equipment here all of it, or is there something left on the ship?”

  “This is everything that wasn’t attached to the deck or a bulkhead, except for some ventilation units, which we put over with that type of equipment.”

  “Ventilation units?”

  “I thought they might be for keeping up the air circulation in a circus tent and Samuel guessed that were intended to maintain pressure in inflatable structures. Just a whole collection of oversized fan-type devices mounted on pivots in a circle, all attached to a heavy base unit we haven’t opened up yet. Jeeves is coming by later to take a look.”

  The Drazen spymaster’s eyes lit up as if somebody was painting them with a laser. “It can’t be. I need to see this.”

  “We keep all the HVAC stuff over there, near where I park the wrecker,” Joe pointed, and to his astonishment, Herl broke into a jog. “Not with my knee. You show him, Paul.”

  The younger man caught up with the Drazen just as the spymaster rounded the wrecker and came to a sudden halt, transfixed by what he saw.

  “They aren’t ventilation units, are they?” Paul asked.

  “It’s a Tornado. The Hortens and the Grenouthians reserve the right to fire on any ship identified as carrying one. They needed to get a tunnel treaty exemption from the Stryx for that.”

  “Is it a weapon?”

  “No, it’s a ride, but an extremely addictive one which can have a destructive impact on the surroundings.” Herl flipped open an access panel on the base unit and brought up a holographic interface. “The Sharf power pack has a little life left in it, enough for a quick demonstration. But we’ll need an open space. Perhaps the training camp?”

  “I think they’re done for the day. I’ll start the wrecker and move it over there. It’ll take a while to rig it, though, since the weight is right at the limit of what the crane can handle at the minimum extension.”

  “It moves itself,” the Drazen explained, gesturing his way through nested holographic menus. “The base unit has a built-in Dolly industrial-grade floater, the kind they use for heavy construction. All of the components are the highest quality.”

  “Something good?” Joe asked, finally coming up to the pair.

  “It’s a genuine Tornado. It’s not worth as much as the Terror Ride to a collector, but they aren’t easy to come by anymore due to the accidents.” Herl made a final hand gesture and then deftly caught a small box around the size of a man’s wallet that ejected from a slot. He pressed a button on it and the entire unit rose off the deck. “I’ve keyed it to my implant so it will just follow me to the training camp area.”

  “Can it fit by all the parked ships?” Joes asked doubtfully.

  “It will just rise over them.”

  “I may be going out on a limb here, but does the name of this ride have anything to do with the way it works?”

  Herl’s face split into a wide grin. “Don’t worry, there’s not enough juice left in the power pack to spawn a really big one. Just enough to get me up off the deck for a few minutes.”

  “You mean the fans create an air vortex strong enough to lift a man off the ground?”

  “A fully charged Tornado can lift a house or knock over a parked ship. They aren’t that hard to control, really, it’s all in the second thumb,” the Drazen said, wiggling that digit. “I’ll just set it to automatic for a trial run.”

  “Won’t spinning around so fast make you so sick that—I forgot about the tops,” Joe interrupted himself. “Well, I’m game to watch. Is there an emergency kill switch in case something goes wrong?”

  “Take this remote. There’s only the one button that toggles the power on and off for the floater, and the fans are slaved to coast down at the same time. You wouldn’t want them to stop all at once, or at least, whoever is riding the whirlwind wouldn’t, because there’s nothing else keeping the vortex going. It’s very tightly focused. I’ll bet the dogs will barely feel a breeze over at your ice harvester.”

  Joe accepted the control box and glanced over at his home, which was almost half the way across the giant hold. If they would feel a breeze there…

  “This looks like a likely spot,” Herl declared when they reached the middle of the parade grounds. “It will remain centered over me, or my implant, as long as my head is attached.”

  “What?” Paul said.

  “Tornado humor,” the Drazen assured him. “You might want to move away a bit, perhaps to the dueling bot?”

  Joe got there in half the time it had taken him to make it from the collection of carnival rides to where the Tornado had been stored, despite the fact that the distance was roughly equivalent. A howling sound like an ancient jet turbine spinning up started a moment later, and Paul pointed at the floater hovering up near the bay doors that gave Mac’s Bones access to Union Station’s hollow core. Joe could see the disturbance in the air, and little wisps of dust devils were forming all over the parade grounds. Beowulf arrived at a full run, with Alexander just behind him, and the two dogs hunkered down beside the men to watch.

  Herl seemed to tip back and forth on his heels, and then he began to spin slowly, seemingly still on his toes. A few seconds later, his feet were no longer in contact with the deck. His rotational rate continued to increase and his body lifted higher off the deck, turning a bit sideways. Th
e roar of the vortex had became deafening, and the Drazen spymaster began doing acrobatics, extending his arms and tentacle to navigate within the funnel, all while spinning so quickly that his whole body was a blur. The twister drifted towards the opposite edge of the parade grounds, and some folding chairs and bits of training equipment began tumbling across the deck into its orbit, some of them lifting in the air. Joe hit the kill switch.

  The twister petered out gracefully, easing the Drazen down towards the deck until his toes were almost touching. Then he extended both of his arms like a figure skater, killing the momentum of his spin until he could set down his other foot without stumbling. Then the vortex died out completely, and Herl walked confidently towards the McAllisters, though for the first dozen steps, he kept veering off to the left and having to correct his heading.

  “Are you alright, Herl?” Joe asked.

  “Wonderful. I feel like I was two hundred again. Why did you shut it down?”

  “Some of the lightweight furniture and debris were getting caught up in the funnel.”

  “Oh, there’s a built-in fix for that. It’s been so long that I forgot about it.”

  The spymaster took the control back from Joe, thumbed the power on, and then issued a silent command through his linked implant. A second later, the powerful fans roared to life, all of them blowing downwards from the floating platform and then tilting outwards. Paul caught an empty paper coffee cup as it shot past on the strong breeze, and in a matter of seconds, the entire parade ground was as clean as if it had been vacuumed.

  “Sorry,” Herl muttered, as a couple of the folding chairs crashed into the hulls of parked ships a distance away. The fans halted again and the wind died immediately. “There’s still a bit of juice left in the power pack. Does one of you want to give it a try?”

  “Are you joking?” Joe replied. “I almost got sick just watching you.”

  “Same here,” Paul said.

  Beowulf shook his massive head at the two men, and then trotted out and positioned himself under the floating platform.