McClendon's Syndrome (v1.1)

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McClendon's Syndrome (v1.1) Page 13

by Robert Frezza


  The next morning, I got some oatmeal in the restaurant downstairs and called Piper to ask what the plan was for the day.

  “Hello, Ken. Catarina’s still asleep. ‘You want me to wake her?”

  “No, don’t bother her. What are your plans?”

  “I have to stop in at the office, and I want to check on those lattices your ship needs. You want me to drive you around later?”

  “Sure, when can you get free?”

  “How about I meet you for lunch? If Catarina’s up and about, I’ll pick her up, too.” She laughed. “This is the most excitement we’ve had here in months. Usually, I spend most of my morning on correspondence courses and the crossword puzzle. Anything you need?”

  “I need to go cash my check, so maybe I can walk over to a bank and do that now. I’m also thinking that since I’m going to be here for a while, I ought to schedule a dental appointment. It’s been a while since I’ve had my teeth checked.”

  She thought for a minute. “Dr. Denis is under contract to the Navy, he’s not too bad. He might be able to squeeze you in. He might be the provider under your Guild insurance. Or do you still have Guild insurance?”

  “Listen, your client may have been stupid enough to drop the ship’s hazard insurance, but even Davie Lloyd is sharp enough to figure that if he drops our health benefits, he’s going to wake up sucking vacuum the minute the rest of us find out. I’ll give the dentist a call. Can I meet you in the lobby at noon?”

  “Sounds fine, and I’ll tell Catarina you called.”

  “Thanks.”

  I punched up Dr. Denis in the directory and called his office to make an appointment. The first thing he had was three-fifteen, and I took it.

  The next thing I needed was a bank.

  The day clerk was a little guy with a wispy moustache and a semidetached stomach who was busy counting room keys. I noticed his lips were moving. “Is there a bank near here where I can get a check cashed?” I asked him.

  He looked up and blinked. “Sure, sir. The Second Bank of Schenectady is a couple blocks away. In fact, just about everything in Schenectady is a couple blocks away. When you step out the door, go right out here on Ocean and turn left when you see Veinticinco de Mayo Boulevard.” He looked past me, and his eyebrows curled. “Or is it left on Ocean and right on Veinticinco? I get these things so confused. Maybe I ought to call them.” He made a dive for the phone on the desk.

  A lot of people think that your typical pioneer on a new world is a truly noble soul, one of mankind’s best and brightest, striding off to seek truth and opportunity while yearning to be free.

  Noble souls tend to grade out at about two percent of the colonial population. Most of mankind’s best and brightest stay home and tell each other how great it would be to be a pioneer while they’re busy racking up a pile. The other ninety-eight percent of the people who go out to new planets tend to be screwups. Schuyler’s World is not a garden spot, and may have gotten more than its share.

  The desk clerk got the phone in one hand, and his eyebrows made another U-turn. “Uh, sir—you wouldn’t happen to know the phone number there, would you?”

  I waved him off. “Thanks, don’t bother calling. It’s okay, I’ll find the place. Did you have trouble landing a job here? “ I asked him conversationally.

  “Oh, yes, sir! There must have been fifty applicants for my position. Fortunately, my cousin’s the junior assistant night manager...”

  I stepped outside, mentally flipped a coin, and headed right on Ocean.

  Land around Schenectady was cheap, so the town was a little spread out. Some of the construction was brick and stone, but the majority of the buildings were one- and two-story plastic prefabricated frames. Plastic prefabs are cheap and reasonably temporary, and look it. Most of the ones in Schenectady could have used a good scrub; judging by the parti-coloured stains, whatever passed for fruit bats found the eaves a handy place to digest dinner.

  Ocean Avenue itself had waist-high trees with greenish grey fronds planted down the centre meridian strip. They seemed to be fairly well fertilised. Schuyler’s World was still a raw, frontier planet, but Schenectady was going to be a lot less raw when the town council put in storm drains.

  Right on Ocean turned out to be a good guess. The bank was easy to find—it was the biggest thing around. People prefer putting their money in bank buildings where other people can’t get at it very easily, and bankers pretty much have the same attitude.

  I walked inside and got in line for the teller. Banks may have machines for entering deposits, machines for accepting loan applications, and machines for giving investment advice so that people can take a flyer on the ponies, but when it comes to handing out sums of money to strangers, I’ve noticed they like to add what they call “the personal touch.” The teller was a cute brunette with braces. I handed the girl my check, and she asked me if I had an account there. I didn’t, so she went back to show it to the manager.

  The manager came out a moment later. He was a thin guy with capped teeth. “Welcome, sir, to the Second Bank of Schenectady, where the customer is always right, and may I help you, sir?”

  “Ah, yeah. I have a government check here I’d like to cash, and I ‘d like to do a funds transfer from my permanent account.”

  He looked at the check. “Mr. MacKay, is it? You’re from Rustam’s Slipper? Have you been served?”

  “That’s me. Yes, I’m being served. The lady here was just helping me.”

  “Oh,” he said. He handed me back the check and folded his hands together. “I’m so sorry, Mr. MacKay, but we can’t accept this.”

  “What?”

  “I do hope you’ll stop by, again, and remember sir, at the Second Bank of Schenectady, the customer is always right.”

  “Now, wait just one minute here! This is a federal government check. I am not going to leave—”

  “Ah, Bruno, could you come out here, please?” He turned his head, and a man stepped out with arms as thick as my thighs and knuckles level with his kneecaps.

  The manager smiled. “Bruno, Mr. MacKay was just leaving; would you please see him to the door? Mr. MacKay, I am sorry that I couldn’t be of more assistance, but I certainly trust you’ll come back and bank with us again. Remember, at the Second Bank of Schenectady, the customer is always right.”

  “Ah, thanks. It’s all right, Bruno, I can find the door.” I walked out and headed back to the Atlantic, where my buddy the day clerk was waiting.

  “Mr. MacKay, welcome back! How was your trip to the bank?”

  “Putrid,” I said briefly.

  He blinked at me with a myopic look that meant he’d lost count of the keys and would have to start over. “Oh, well, I’m glad. Uh, sir, there’s a lady waiting to see you in the lounge.”

  “Oh, sure. Which way?”

  “Right down there, sir,” he said, pointing.

  I went down the steps into the lounge. The maitre d’ was off somewhere, and the only booth that was taken was filled by a thin woman with curly hair and a turned-up nose. She was wearing a brown raincoat and a matching felt beret, and she had a big leather bag sitting on the bench beside her. She waved. “Hey, MacKay! Over here!”

  I pointed. “I remember you. You’re the reporter I stiffed at the airport yesterday. The desk clerk told me there was a lady looking for me in here. Did you see her?”

  She nodded vigorously, which made the artificial flowers on her beret bounce up and down. “Bubbles at the desk meant me. Get over here. I’m Lydia Dare from the Schenectady Post-Dispatch and Channel 2 News—’People You Can Turn On.’ I don’t give up easy when there’s a story to write. I’ve heard all about you and the Rodent ship.” She held out one hand, which I ignored, and pushed a mini-camera in my direction with the other. “Can I call you Ken? Tell me, Ken, what was it like?”

  I held up my hand. “Slow up. Are we being recorded?”

  She looked puzzled. “Of course. Why?”

  “Just curious. Well, it was nic
e meeting you. See you around.”

  “Hey, where do you think you’re going?” She planted her free hand on the table and started to rise.

  “Out the way I came in,” I said, heading for the door.

  “You can’t do that! I’ve got a deadline!”

  “Watch me.” I stopped and turned around. “My mother taught me not to molest children or associate with reporters. I’m not sure she distinguished between the two.” I wiggled my fingers. “So, bye.”

  I left her sputtering something that I probably wasn’t old enough to hear. Bubbles eyed me sympathetically as I came out.

  “I’m not doing so well today,” I explained.

  “There’s some mail here for you, sir. Maybe that’ll cheer you up!” He rummaged under the counter and pulled out two fat letters.

  “I wonder who these are from?” I said as I tore the first envelope open and looked inside. “What the heck is this?”

  He reached up and pulled the corner down. “Hmmm, looks like a court summons. My cousin got one when he ran into a fire hydrant. You don’t know my cousin, do you?”

  “No, can’t say I do.” I ripped open the other one and compared the two documents.

  “The only person I know who drives worse than he does is his sister—”

  “Uh, thanks,” I said. “I’ve got to run.”

  Piper walked in to save me. I handed her the letters. “Beam, thanks for coming early! I’m being sued. Twice. You have some legal training.”

  Piper took the papers from me and glanced at them. “It says here you’re being sued. Twice.”

  “Thanks for telling me that.”

  “The first one is by the Second Bank of Schenectady as the authorised representative for Galactic Life and Casualty. Galactic apparently holds the policy for Little Benny Finance Company, who’s the mortgage-lender on the Rodent ship you popped off. The second one is from First National Bank of Schuyler’s as the authorised agent for the J. T. Pollard Fertiliser and Feed Company. First National is suing Ironsides and each crew member individually for fraud, deceit, mopery, and dopery. They want to hold you all jointly and severally liable.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “It means they don’t care who they get their money from,” Piper explained.

  “I was just over at the Second Bank of Schenectady, and they wouldn’t cash my check. Does that have anything to do with this?”

  “Probably.”

  “Can they do that? I mean, is it legal?” I asked her.

  Piper gave me a pitying look. “What do you mean, ‘Is it legal?’ These are banks. Of course not.” She added, “Just remember, the first rule of law is that anybody can always sue for anything, and they usually do. If it makes you feel any better, in my opinion the second suit has no legal basis, and the first one is completely meretricious.”

  I gave it a few seconds and gave up. “Beam, I hate to have to ask, but what does ‘meretricious’ mean?”

  She pursed her lips. “Well, it comes from the Latin word meretrix, which means ‘prostitute.’ Does that suggest anything?”

  “Thanks. What you said is good, right?”

  “Well, you still may have a problem. I doubt that either Second Schenectady or First National would be willing to cash your check without trying to offset it against what they claim you owe.”

  “So I found out. Well, where’s another bank?”

  She rubbed her chin. “I’m not sure. Those are the only two banks I can think of on the whole planet. There is no First Bank of Schenectady.”

  “Absolutely swell. You mean I have a five-thousand-dollar check that I effectively can’t cash?”

  “That about covers it. You still have to declare the money on your taxes. You want to borrow a few hundred until you can pay me back?”

  “Thanks, I may have to.” I looked at her. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  “I’m Class of Thirty-four, too. I’ve known Catarina for ages. She asked me to keep you out of trouble, even if you are Navy Reserve.”

  “Do they train you all to be this sneaky?”

  “It comes natural. You want to give Catarina a call? She should be up by now. She had a long night.”

  I walked over to the phone and punched the call in. “Hello, Catarina, you there?”

  “Hello, Ken. Everything all right?”

  “No. Actually, nothing’s going right. You sound awful.”

  “I feel awful. I had a really severe allergic reaction to something I drank, and my head is splitting. I’m of two minds about going outside in the shape that I’m in. What are you doing?”

  “Reading the want ads in the Schenectady Post-Dispatch. None of the banks will cash my check. They’re suing us for umpteen million, and I don’t have the damnedest idea why I feel so cheerful. What about you, how’s the case going?”

  “Down a drainspout,” she answered.

  “What’s wrong? Won’t Ironsides and Bobo talk?”

  “Oh, they talked their fuzzy heads off, at least about the smuggling. They just didn’t know anything. Whoever set up their little drug-running enterprise used drops and telephone messages. Ironsides and Bobo don’t even know who they were dealing with. I can’t even tell you whether it was a human. Piper’s put in a petition to have mental evaluations done on them.”

  “Most people in prison are mentally defective. How else would cops catch them? So where do we go from here?”

  “Ken, truthfully, I don’t know.” She sounded tired. “I’m not sure where I go with it. This investigation of mine is really interfering with your life, isn’t it?”

  “Well, the last time I spoke to McHugh and Dykstra, the general consensus seemed to be that Ironsides and Bobo did everything they confessed to, and that I’m a horse’s ass for proving it. I wouldn’t have missed a moment, though, and with my talent, I could have screwed up my life just as thoroughly without any help from you.”

  That got a slight chuckle out of her, “Thanks for the flowers.”

  “No problem. When am I going to see you?”

  “You’re in the Atlantic? Look for me in the lobby around six.”

  Piper and I grabbed some lunch. Then we walked around to a couple of places to find some lattices and didn’t.

  Crossing back over Ocean Avenue to where she was parked, I nearly got run over by a car with a bumper holo of a cat holding a sign reading, HAVE YOU HUGGED YOUR CAT TODAY?

  I hopped back on the sidewalk. “He drives the way Davie Lloyd flies.”

  “Transmission holograms are getting cheaper and better every day,” Piper observed.

  “Maybe that’s what I ought to go into, marketing holos of cats. Holos have all the advantages of live cats and none of the disadvantages,” I said, stepping back out into the street.

  “I have the feeling that there’s some angle you’re missing. I’d work on it a little more.”

  “Maybe we could rig it so they irritated people every twenty minutes, like real cats.”

  Despite the glowing WALK pictogram, another car came whizzing by and almost clipped me. I got the distinct impression that on Schuyler’s World, traffic signals were considered optional.

  “Or maybe I could set up a driving school,” I said. “There seems to be a need.”

  “They were probably just making aesthetic statements about the way you’re dressed.”

  I stopped in the middle of the street. “I don’t see why you all pick on what I wear. I am dressed perfectly fine,” I exclaimed, holding my arms out. Another car came skimming past, a look of panic on the driver’s face. “I like wearing solid, basic colours, like green and blue.”

  Some of the people walking by looked over, mildly interested. Piper grabbed me by the arm and yanked me the rest of the way. “They’re fine colours, Ken, just not together. Oh, there’s a bakery—you want to stop and get something?”

  She bribed me into good behaviour with a chocolate croissant, then said, “We still have another hour until your dental appoi
ntment. If you want a lawyer, I know one who might be able to help.”

  “Is he any good?” I asked.

  “I didn’t say that. However, he’s close, he gives free initial consultations, and he’s the only lawyer I can think of who has any interest in admiralty law, at least the only one not in jail.”

  The shyster in question, Jimmy Omura, P.A., turned out to be a stubby guy with a baggy suit. He started getting excited when I explained my predicament and showed him the writs.

  “This is fascinating. This is absolutely fascinating,” he said, pacing the carpet and gesticulating. “This is a lot more fun than helping people cheat on their taxes! As I see it, this is a perfect General Average case. There’s never been one in space before, you know. This is fascinating.”

  Some people are not meant to wear clothes off the rack. When he raised his arms, most of his jacket followed, which gave him a distinctly hunchbacked look.

  “What is a ‘General Average’ case?”

  “Oh, General Average is a universal principle of maritime law, you know, boats and things? It’s, uh, illustrated by the Rhodian dictum that if merchandise is thrown overboard to lighten the ship, the loss occasioned for the benefit of all must be made good by the contributions of all. The fascinating thing is that it’s never been applied to space before. The principles are the same, so it should.”

  I looked at Piper, who shrugged helplessly. I tried to bring Omura closer to the planet I was sitting on. “I don’t know that dumping cargo to lighten a spaceship would help a whole lot. Mr. Omura, let’s backtrack for a minute—what is Rhodian law?”

  “Oh, you know. Rhodian sea law, from the Greek city-state of Rhodes, sixth century B.C. or thereabouts. Simply fascinating!”

  “Oh. That’s what it is,” I said in a very small voice.

  “Fascinating stuff, really. It’s amazing how advanced those Greeks were in some respects. Of course, the quote I just gave you is merely illustrative of modem General Average law, it’s vastly more complicated than not. Vastly...” He waved both of his hands.

 

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