13 Degrees of Separation

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13 Degrees of Separation Page 31

by Hechtl, Chris


  Joe suddenly understood. He nodded. “Make it work then.”

  Freeze nodded. “We will. We'll call you when we're set.”

  “Do that. You aren't the only ones tired of this crap. I'm sick of getting it in the neck, stuck between the brass and you guys. I want more.”

  “Well, we'll keep that in mind Joe,” Sparks replied with a grin.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Clio traced the various financial dealings surrounding the Yard Dogs. She'd seen a lot of suspicious activity, the other corporations kept tanking their stock, buying it and then selling it at a loss to drive the price down, then buying it up again. She wasn't sure why, they couldn't control the company, the shares were what mattered. None of the Yard Dogs were selling theirs, in fact any time someone put up a share it was snatched up by a holding company in seconds. Hurting their stock prices just made it harder for them to raise capital... maybe that was it? She puzzled over that for a moment before she shrugged. She didn't have the experience in finance as the other AI did. The thoughts did bring up another point, the share holders. She'd seen some strange dealings there. She checked the listings and found a holding company had a healthy chunk of shares.

  So! she had discovered a secret share holder. She used her banking contacts to trace the holding company to a series of shell companies. When she got to the source she was even more confused. Immediately she sent off a request for a meeting.

  She confronted Hishina in private, in the old woman's private room. Hishina only agreed to the interview if it was private and if both parties signed a standard Non Disclosure Agreement first.

  “Mind your own business holdings?” Clio began. The various holdings traced out behind her on a virtual wall as she laid out her evidence. The name of that one struck a humorous tone however, something the normally frigid Fu wasn't known for.

  Hishina Fu drank her virtual tea, serene, not at all bothered by the AI or what she had to say. She was the picture of Ancient Asian perfection, red kimono dress with nice crisp lines, gray hair up in a perfect bun, paper white face and body like fine china. She sat there on her knees, content. “Yes it is me,” she said simply.

  “I can't believe it! You and Yan...” Clio paced, one hand holding the folds of her virtual toga up. Here in the Fu house hold the cloth had real weight and texture. It was an odd feeling for one not used to such as her.

  “No, just me,” Hishina replied. Her wise old eyes caught Clio's. “What Yan doesn't know will not hurt him.”

  Clio blinked at her in confusion. “You are... not doing this with your husband?” she asked. “This is a... private endeavor?”

  “Correct,” Hishina replied coolly as she set the tea cup down with a slight clink of china. “My husband insulted my honor in denying Fleet Admiral Irons and in actively conspiring to prevent him from protecting this station and system. In his insults to the military and in those who served to protect him.”

  “Why?” Clio demanded.

  “That you would have to ask Yan,” she replied quietly.

  Clio shook her head, golden locks bobbing. “No, why help us?”

  “Because, a long time ago my family was in the military. My father died on the line. Most of my family served honorably at one time or another.” She smiled a small smile of memory. “Including me,” she said ever so softly.

  Clio blinked at her again. “Well, this is a surprise.”

  “Yes. I do not want anyone to know of it, not even the Warners. Consider it part of the NDA Clio,” she said, leveling her eyes on the AI.

  “Fine,” Clio replied testily.

  “Understand me Clio,” Hishina said, looking directly into the AI's avatar eyes. “I do this for the benefit of all. I am not setting you or the others up to fail, quite the contrary. I want them to succeed. I want them to build something lasting, to start the rebuilding process here and abroad. To show others that they can too, and to shame those who stood in their way. And I want them to build something to help defend this system. I for one know the pirates will return when they realize we are here.”

  “I wish the others on the council would!”

  “They have their own agendas. Now that Fleet Admiral Irons has left the very real threat is starting to sink in to even their greedy minds. I believe the winds of fate will shift in favor of the Yard Dogs shortly.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Was there anything more?” Hishina asked politely.

  “No, thank you,” Clio replied. They bowed. She waved her fingers and transferred herself out.

  Chapter 10

  Kennet got the bar hearing postponed due to pressing station business. He was informed however that he would have to attend the next appointment a week from the former date or be tried in abstention and possibly permanently disbarred without any defense or appeal. He scowled and tossed the form into his electronic trash.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  With the Tribecca project finally under control they split into two groups, one to continue the solar farm maintenance and expansion, and the other returned their attention to building the actual yard. It was tough, but they had more materials stockpiled and the work with the solar farm had given them a great deal of practice.

  A week into the actual job of building the yard and they were half way finished building the new slip. It was a basic structure, no frills, at least not now. One of the main problems was getting the supply sorted out. Twice they had been forced to shut down due to interruptions with the truss factory. Once due to a lack of titanium, the second time because the solar panels powering the small robotic factory had been occluded by an inner planet as well as one of Antigua's moons in some form of eclipse. The power hiccup hadn't been for more than an hour, but it had been long enough for the little factory's computer brain to shut down. And of course once it shut down it had to go through a full POST routine and clean itself before it went back online, a full day affair.

  They were still having fitting issues as well. Things that were designed to go together with millimeter precision sometimes warped in the sunny heat, and ultra cold of the shade. The differential was a pain in the ass to adjust for. Howie, Shari, Petunia, and the other space hands cussed while in their new suits welding and fitting parts to the scaffolding. Instead of finishing the scaffolding like they had planned they were instead rigging guy wires to stabilize it and also laying out the grand block module. “I hate being in a suit, can't itch!” Howie bitched.

  Mairi turned to see him. She was at ends, she'd planned to make another run at a rock but there was a problem with fuel so they'd called the trip off. Now she was bored, looking for something constructive to do. “Itch on your own time hairball. Right now focus on the job,” Mairi said with a smile in her voice.

  “Yeah right. You come out here and handle this why dont'cha?” Howie grumbled. Mairi frowned, that had been an all too familiar taunt as of late. They resented her sitting in her nice comfortable cockpit all shift.

  “Sure,” Mairi replied, coming out of the bitch and over to the work crew.

  “And what the hell do you think you're doing?” Howie and the others demanded when they caught sight of her.

  “You wanted me here I'm here,” she smiled, taking up the spare torch. “I've done salvage work since I could see over the bitch's controls. This is easy,” she said getting to work.

  “Well tack, don't cut,” Howie warned, turning a critical eye on her welds. They were cherry, cooling rapidly in the cold vacuum. “Damn glad we're in shade. Those lights are awesome,” he said.

  “True,” Mairi replied.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Not all of the material Mairi was bringing in could be used right away by the yard. Getting a little devious and wanting revenge, Gwen and Riff had Clio play the market. When they put an order in for silicon, magnesium, and copper in they watched the prices sky rocket as the other firms who had been watching the dog's purchases sprang and started buying up any existing stockpiles for sale.

  T
he dogs waited until the price had nearly tripled before they offered their own stocks onto the market. Pete's pets, the Umbrella Corp, and two small startup companies snapped up the stockpiles at over five hundred credits a kilo. They made a small fortune before someone on the other side realized what was going on and the trade price plummeted. Gwen snickered as McDougall, Rinwerks, and Sunrise Metals all tried to get out and took a bath on their ill gotten gains.

  “Serves em right,” Riff said, crossing his massive arms. “I think they'll be a bit more cautious about pulling this trick from now on,” he rumbled.

  “Hopefully,” Clio replied, not at all sure their deception was legal. It passed her ethical subroutines, but only just barely.

  “Hopefully we won't need to buy from the market anymore,” Gwen replied. “Now that we've got our own tugs. What's next?” she asked, turning to the AI.

  “Well, we're still having control issues with the reactor. The core isn't up yet so we've got it housed in a transhab in the main slip. I did a prewarm test this morning and I received some odd readings. Can you take a look at it? I've got some work to do with the bank.”

  “Sure,” Gwen said, nodding her massive head. “Not a problem.”

  “Are you two going to move into the barracks? I mean when it's finished?” Clio asked, not at all sure about the Taurens with their hooves and horns in what for all intense and purposes was a balloon.

  “No,” Gwen replied, shaking her head. “It's not the room, it's... well, there isn't any need. We'll stay on as shareholders and consultants, you know, help out when we can, but we like it on the station.”

  “That and we don't want to lose our life time lease,” Riff rumbled.

  Clio nodded in understanding. “Ah, gotcha,” she replied. “Smart. I think most of the others are thinking the same thing.”

  “Probably. Quarters on the yard will be nice in time maybe, but it's a far cry from the station. I'll commute thanks,” Gwen said.

  “Me too,” Riff replied.

  “And me three,” Clio replied with a half smile. “I really got to run. But I'll be back later next shift.”

  “We got this,” Gwen replied, waving a massive three fingered hand. She was already pulling up the sensor readings from the reactor test run.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Kennet was forced to attend the next bar hearing despite his attempt at getting it canceled. D'red had been informed of his last excuse and had informed the council that Kennet was a liability and his apparent actions were exposing the station to legal and financial risk, risk they could ill afford. The members took official notice of Kennet and inquired. When D'red explained the situation and absently informed the board that Kennet had used the excuse of pressing council business to delay his disbarment hearing Kennet could only sit there and fume. He glanced at his mentor and saw disappointment writ all over his face and demeanor. That he'd expected, he had screwed up. Screwed up again, and he had no way of getting out of it. Yan was no longer responding to his requests for an interview. He had been ducking them for months, now he didn't even pretend to politely put them off. Being cut off was humiliating.

  He stared, angry as the council voted to suspend him for thirty days to give him time to deal with the disbarment 'with the fullness of your attention' Yan said, reading the verdict. “After your hearing the council will consider your actions and decide if you are worthy to remain on this governing body.”

  Kennet felt intense shock at that, more so than ever before. He could only stare as he was forced off the council and his codes suspended. His virtual presence was returned to drift in the net. Adrift he tried to decide what to do. He felt his presence being drawn to the judicial wing and let himself go.

  He stood there, not offering any defense or comment as the hearing dragged on. In humiliation he was disbarred from practicing law on the station for one year. He nodded curtly and then left the hearing.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  They finished the first slip, the first transhab barracks, and one attached module cluster nearly 8 months after Admiral Irons left. The module was called a grand block module, a giant space with various machinery designed to assemble blocks of a ship into a larger chunk of the ship which would then be passed on into the slip for final assembly into the body of the ship. It was large, 685 meters by 900 by 700. It came out as they had planned, 431.55 million cubic meters of space, enough to house the equipment to build and repair ships... at least until they built the add on modules later. Once they did that the space could go for its intended purpose. It had a massive set of doors that opened onto the slip. When closed they allowed the vast chamber to be pressurized and heated so the yard workers could work within it in a shirt sleeved environment. When the doors opened they would be able to pass equipment in and out, or parts for ships.

  Mairi ferried everyone over in a transhab module designed to act as a transport or emergency vessel. Eventually they would have a dedicated tug that would make the rounds between the station and the yard. She hoped they'd pick someone else for that chore, it was too boring for her.

  When they docked the crews piled out. Everyone who could be there was, they all wanted a chance to look around at what they had achieved. They admired the cavernous interior after they tested it's atmospheric integrity. “Air is cold,” Sparks said, watching his breath drift away from him in a cloud. It was also a bit dark, only half lit.

  “I like it,” Freeze said, looking around. The lights were on, or at least half of them. They still had a long way to go to finish the space, but at least they could work inside out of a suit.

  “Why?” Sparks asked.

  “Cause it's ours,” Freeze replied, grinning. He blew a lungful out, watching it front around them. “Very cool.”

  “The light bill for this place alone is going to suck,” Savo muttered. They needed this to work, they had to make it work. They could keep building but eventually, with no paying income they would fold. Payroll alone was sucking up a lot of their cash. They were in the red again despite no longer having to pay for the warehouse and selling the surplus fuel and material to the station. Just barely in the red, but enough red ink could drown them again. There was something Clio had warned them about a company that operated in the red for a period of time could be seized, forced into liquidation bankruptcy by the courts and its assets sold off to pay creditors.

  “Not when we've got a fusion reactor and solar panels,” Shari disagreed. The exterior of the slip and the various modules had solar panels all over them. The little panel maker was churning out a dozen or so panels a day depending on how much silicon they could turn over to it. She understood now why they needed a surplus of material, having a steady supply would insure a consistent output from the factories... and would prevent any hiccups from interrupting their building schedules.

  “And just think, this is just the first,” Gwen said, turning to admire the space. “Each slip is supposed to have what 6 of these? And each of these are supposed to have their own modules for sub component fabrication and assembly. They all feed into this thing.”

  “What trips me up is that the admiral's notes said this is just the beginning. Like you said. We've still got to build the core module of the station itself. When that's done we'll be able to have what 8?” Riff asked, turning to Gwen. She gave him a thumbs up. “Yeah, thought so, 8 of these slips. And we can stack core modules. We can build this place as big as we want!” he said grinning.

  The first thing built in the grand block module was another tug, this one a full sized, 4 kiloton version that could reach the asteroid belt and bring back over a hundred tons of material. It was automated with a rather simple dumb AI so Mairi wouldn't have to give up her precious ride. The AI was limited so she was informed she or someone else might have to telepresence the craft from time to time. Hopefully up close, distance telepresence in the main belt would be incredibly hard to pull off.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  When they had the tug inspected and i
t passed, they immediately had it fly a test flight and then sent it off on its first mission. Word got around the station of the achievement. There was consternation in some quarters, sparks of interest in others. Sid and Emily Berkheart along with the other council members confronted the Warners and Clio. They demurred any questions due to conflict of interest. “So you can make tugs and shuttle craft? Why didn't someone say something!” Sid demanded, thoroughly disgusted. "How? Without the keys, we're screwed!"

  “I'll direct your inquiries for any vessels, services, or construction to sales,” Taylor replied with a tight lipped smile.

  “But Taylor, why didn't you say anything?” Sid demanded. "You know the boat we've been in!" Sid shook his head. He deeply regretted the admiral's departure. The council hadn't appointed many engineers to the council, and none of the surviving old guard had engineering keys. The Warners had a few, but they were military grade and very limited in use. They also flatly refused to use them for the station's benefit.

  Draco and a dozen cybers had originally been the keeper of the keys on Prime. When the station had been hit by the Xeno's and hid, many had died or had gone insane. He still held reservations as to why they had gone insane just before that vote to hide the station. Draco had never said anything, and he had been judged insane as well.

  That drastic action had left them in a tailspin, with no engineering support. The Admiral's intervention had been in many ways a gift from the gods, but he'd been an officer, he couldn't give keys to civilians. That was why he had pushed for the return of the system constitution and central government. Suddenly Sid's eyes widened as he realized Irons' intent. All along the admiral had pushed for a constitution and Governor, and now he had a small inkling as to why. Irons could have been trying to get support for his Naval projects yes, but a system Governor held certain keys as well. That Governor could appoint an industry board and distribute civilian grade keys to a limited number of people. Of course the legalities were a bit more complicated than that...

 

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