High Priest on Union Station (EarthCent Ambassador Book 3)

by E. M. Foner

  “I think the realtor may be taking liberties with some stock footage,” Kelly told her intern gently. The girl turned dark with embarrassment at her own naiveté.

  “Libby? Do you have any current imagery of Furlon Six?” Donna asked.

  “Just a sec,” the station librarian replied. The hologram wavered for a moment before being replaced by a strange-looking green and blue planet that resembled a show-and-tell project Dorothy had made for her first Kindergarten project a couple of years earlier. Then the image zoomed in and all three women narrowed their eyes in disgust. It looked like somebody had strip-mined the entire surface of the planet, and then covered it with colored foam to try to make it look livable from space.

  “That’s awful,” Kelly cried, the very sight bringing on a sudden feeling of sadness, accompanied by nausea. “Make it go away, Libby. Isn’t that criminal misrepresentation or something?”

  “The Furlon system isn’t on the tunnel network, but even if it was, real estate has always been a ‘caveat emptor’ business,” Libby responded. “The green foam appears to be a standard terraforming seed and micro-organism mix, so as long as the surface minerals aren’t toxic and the oceans still produce precipitation over the land masses, the planet could end up with a reasonable base of topsoil in a few thousand years.”

  “Is that what Kasil looked like when the Kasilians started going home?” Aisha asked out of curiosity.

  The hologram wavered again, and the image of a pockmarked planet bedecked with an infinite number of lights appeared. As it rotated, a jagged gap in the connected super-cities came into view, along with multiple space elevator tethers along the edges.

  “This is what Kasil looked like at the beginning of their clean-up process,” Libby informed them. “It never looked like Furlon because the Kasilians stripped the metal skin in patches and replanted as they went. The whole process only took a few hundred years since the Kasilians had more than enough barter items to convince the contractors to work overtime. There are still plenty of partially metal-clad worlds in the galaxy if you want to see one. I’m sure that nice young man who’s helping Paul with his ship-design experiments could tell you all about the abandoned ones. He’s quite a treasure hunter.”

  “Clive?” Kelly asked. “The guy who gives the vibe of being a professional bodyguard or something? I know that he gets along well with Joe and Paul, and even Beowulf likes him, but I wouldn’t have thought to characterize him as a nice young man.”

  “He sounds interesting,” Donna said and winked at Kelly. “What do you think of him, Aisha?”

  “I don’t know, he seems older I guess,” replied the girl, who only had eyes for one man at a time. “Are we giving up on planet shopping already?”

  “No, and I don’t have a clue how we got on this subject,” Kelly answered. “Could we have the next planet, Libby?”

  A hologram of a mountainous world replaced the image of Kasil hovering over Kelly’s desk, and the voiceover began immediately.

  “Cedthi-Gruhl. Where your future and past come together. The unspoiled Northern hemisphere is ideal for your agrarian dream home, while the industrialized Southern hemisphere provides a steady income stream. This cash-flow-positive planet is available by special offer for the price of just four point seven trillion Stryx creds, and includes a defensible perimeter around the desirable residential areas of the North. The current planetary overlords are selling due to estate planning reasons and have transport in place to evacuate on short notice. Visit Cedthi-Gruhl. Seeing is believing.”

  “It’s occupied and they’re fighting a war?” Kelly asked incredulously. “Who would buy a planet like that?”

  “Maybe the overlords of a different planet without a defensible perimeter,” Donna suggested, being well-versed in strategic military affairs from attending twenty years of gaming trade shows with her husband. “Doesn’t look right for the Kasilians, though.”

  “Could you maybe only show us the worlds that the Kasilians might like?” Aisha asked Libby hesitantly.

  “Certainly,” the Stryx responded. “Just remember that I’m not endorsing the purchase of any particular world nor suggesting that the Kasilians be compelled to evacuate their own planet.”

  “You sound more like a lawyer every time we talk,” Kelly complained as she conceded the point. “Alright, please show us the real estate the Kasilians might consider calling home if they should mysteriously agree to changing their minds about going softly into the dark night.”

  The hologram of Cedthi-Gruhl blinked out and was replaced by a three-by-three grid showing nine globes of roughly the same diameter, but rotating at various speeds about different axial tilts. They all showed areas of blue, green, white and tan, and some included large patches of red as well. Libby had helpfully added a few vital statistics under each, and presented her own summary of the offerings.

  “These are the top nine candidates within a reasonable distance of Kasil that are either on the market or welcome mass immigration. Starting with Brank Four at your top left, it’s been a factory-farm world for the last several hundred thousand years, so there’s no question about title. The main drawback, from the Kasilian perspective, is that the natural cycles of this world were disrupted long ago, and even the weather is controlled by satellite. But the seller does offer to pick up the cost of reasonable alterations to rotation rate, etc. They would probably accept a five-trillion cred offer because their production and shipping costs have rendered their products non-competitive with some of the newer factory-farm worlds and closed-cycle space plantations.”

  Aisha scribbled furiously on her screentab with a finger as the other two women watched Brank Four turn through a full cycle.

  “It looks nice from space,” Donna commented. “And there must be an advantage in dealing with businessmen rather than empires or tyrants.”

  “Well put,” Libby agreed. “The next world, GY73R, is currently unoccupied by any life forms that we would recognize as sentient, though it’s always possible to miss something, especially in the oceans. It was once part of the Brupt Empire, but they left the galaxy to pursue their aggressive expansion outside of the Stryx sphere of influence. It’s currently owned by the Vergallian Empire…”

  “Next!” Kelly interrupted.

  “Are you going to refuse to buy a planet from every species that ever made a pass at your husband?” Donna inquired.

  “I’d rather buy a planet from the Gems,” Kelly replied.

  “Funny you should say that,” Libby continued calmly. “Our next planet belongs to Gem and was also factory-farm, but they no longer need it since their nutritional needs are being completely met by a drink synthesized from industrial byproducts. However, the native flora and fauna have long since been replaced by cloned varieties of…”

  “Next,” Aisha said, then covered her own mouth in horror of having interrupted Libby. Kelly and Donna both turned to look at the intern, who defended her reaction in a much less authoritative tone. “You weren’t at the fundraiser for the ag deck the Gem gave up. Nobody would want to live on a Gem farm world unless you killed everything and replanted.”

  “Now Brindle is a lovely world, one I visited as a young Stryx during my ambulatory phase,” Libby continued. “The gravity is a little higher than Kasil because the planetary core contains more iron, and the Brindles themselves are a very friendly and accommodating species who are looking to sell settlement rights to the unused continent in the Eastern sea. The main drawback from the standpoint of the Kasilians might be the rotational speed, which leads to a day that is nearly four times longer than the cycle on Kasil.”

  “Why are they selling settlement rights to a continent?” Kelly asked suspiciously.

  “Well, they believe it to be haunted, and in a sense it is,” Libby admitted. “But that’s unlikely to bother the Kasilians, who are a very spiritual people and would probably get along fine with unsettled dead who, of course, aren’t even their relations.”

  “Are you pu
lling our legs, Libby?” Donna asked.

  “If you don’t believe in ghosts, just ask young Clive,” Libby replied. “Anybody who’s visited enough ruins will tell you that something of the builders always remains behind.”

  “Have you signed up as his public relations agent or something?” Kelly asked. “And what’s the story with the big red splotches on that pretty planet with the beautiful white polar caps?”

  “Brupt Prime is still a bit of a rehab project,” Libby admitted. “The Brupt sort of destroyed it when they left, their own version of a scorched-earth strategy, though who they meant to deprive of its resources isn’t clear. In any case, that was a long time ago, and our science ships occasionally visit to push along the natural decontamination process. It’s currently quite safe for a species like the Kasilians, whose version of DNA employs a redundant error correction scheme. The red patches are deserts created by metal-eating bacteria the Brupt developed as a weapon, but it’s long since died out for lack of comestibles. It does mean the Kasilians would have to import any metal needed for their farm implements and telescopes, but they don’t use that much.”

  “If these are the cream of the crop, I’m beginning to suspect that there aren’t that many prime residential planets for sale,” Kelly observed.

  “It’s not so strange if the native populations have anything to say about it,” Donna replied. “How about the planet next to it with the smaller red spots.”

  “Brupt Minor,” Libby reported. “Same star system, same basic story, a little colder in the winter and hotter in the summer. The main drawback here is that at the apogee of its orbit, it passes through the fringes of the asteroid belt that used to be Brupt Major, resulting in spectacular meteor showers and the occasional dinger.”

  “Dinger?” Aisha asked.

  “I think she means an asteroid that makes it to the ground without burning up and impacts with the force of advanced weaponry,” Kelly explained.

  “Yes, but a relatively simple asteroid defense system can completely solve that problem,” Libby countered. “And the planets themselves are unclaimed, so there aren’t any other costs involved, other than the ongoing clean-up and bombardment defenses.”

  “Even with the problems, how could the planets go unclaimed for so long?” Aisha asked.

  “There were some rumors about booby-traps, but surely most of them would have aged out by this time,” Libby brushed past the subject quickly. “Now, the next world is new on the market. It’s a complete terraforming job done on spec by a consortium of Horten and Dollnick construction clans. It will support anything imported from Kasil, and naming rights go to the purchaser. While the workmanship is impeccable, the Kasilians may be uncomfortable with the fact that it was a lifeless ball of rock for billions of years before the engineers went to work on it.”

  “The next one looks promising,” Kelly said, feeling strangely moved by its beauty. “It sort of reminds me of Earth.”

  “Isn’t that the Great Wall of China?” Donna asked, as the globe spun before them.

  “Oh, there’s India!” Aisha declared.

  “It’s just an idea I’m throwing out there,” Libby said cautiously. “Most of your large nations could fit the remaining Kasilian population in a corner where nobody would notice them. They could be the next Pennsylvania Dutch.”

  “I don’t think Earth is ready for an influx of forty-million or so alien astronomer-farmers,” Kelly replied doubtfully. “But I haven’t been back for over twenty years so what do I know? I’ll send a query off to EarthCent, or better yet, I’ll ask my mom. At least that way I’ll get an answer.”

  “Well, I saved the two most logical options for last. Both of them are former Kasilian colonies. The one in the middle of the bottom row is Setti Five, where Becky Crick went through her religious phase. The current population largely consists of descendents of the guest workers, and in some instances, slaves, of the original Kasilian colonists. While they are spread over the globe, the total population is less than a billion, so there’s more than enough room to absorb the Kasilians. Any lingering hard feelings could likely be plastered over by a sufficiently large donation to the Setti Five Benevolent Association.”

  “What about the one that’s almost all blue?” Aisha asked.

  “New Kasil,” Libby replied. “It was the first colony the Kasilians founded when they began exploring interstellar space, and they primarily used it as a resort world. A group of Dollnick contractors took it in barter for rehab work done to Kasil and they’ve run it as a resort world ever since. There aren’t any true continents, just some very long island chains, and while it would support the Kasilian population with no problems, many of their native species would be out of luck. And it isn’t officially on the market, but with the Dollnicks, you know it’s just a matter of price.”

  “Is that really it?” Kelly asked. “Nine choices in the whole galaxy? I thought there would at least be hundreds.”

  “I’m only displaying worlds that aren’t too far from Kasil where the ownership isn’t in question and the Kasilians could be settled with a minimum of fuss,” Libby explained. “If they were willing, the better option would be to set out in colony ships and discover a new home. Gryph estimates that of the hundreds of billions of planets in our galaxy, there are still millions of unclaimed worlds that would suit their purposes.”

  “Gryph wouldn’t happen to have picked one out for them already?” Kelly asked warily, reflecting on the lukewarm selling job Libby had done on the nine worlds she had chosen for reasons of her own. The holograms disappeared from above the desk and the station librarian didn’t answer.

  Eighteen

  “Don’t care much for Zero-G, do you?” Clive asked, trying to make light of his concern. Jeeves had only cut the power to the Caged Bird’s engines a minute earlier, and Blythe was already taking deep breaths with her eyes tightly shut. She had invited Aisha along for Paul’s second cable swing experiment without thinking about the fact that the Nova only had two acceleration couches. In a momentary flare-up of self-sacrifice, she offered to go with Clive, who had volunteered his ship as the counterweight to the Nova. Jeeves came along to pilot Clive’s scout after the treasure hunter admitted he had never been much for fancy flying.

  “I’ll be better soon,” Blythe replied, though she sounded like she was about three gasps away from launching a mess of partially digested food into the small ship’s cabin.

  There was a reassuring clunk as the magnetic grapple on the Nova’s towline locked onto the nose plate of the Caged Bird, and the two ships began backing away from each other.

  “Almost there,” Jeeves commented cheerfully, as Blythe’s body seemed to pull against the safety harnesses of the command chair, rather than sinking into the cushions as was usual when the ship accelerated forward. Clive looked on in awe as in the space of two seconds, the Stryx pilot hit full reverse thrust, followed by a micro-blast from the main engines to bring them to a dead stop with the towline just going taut, at the same instant firing the auxiliary lateral navigation thrusters Joe and Paul had temporarily affixed to both hulls that morning.

  “Seriously?” Blythe asked, as the centrifugal force began to be felt almost immediately. “It seemed like it took Paul forever to get us started going around the magic ball the last time out.”

  “It’s an old Stryx trick,” Jeeves replied modestly. “I could have accelerated us up to the spin where you’d feel Earth normal gravity already, but Paul wants to monitor the tension on the cable to create a data set. Besides, I have a selfish motive.”

  “Showing off to a poor human pilot?” Clive asked.

  “I had myself polished for tomorrow’s return to Kasil and I happen to know that somebody had spaghetti for lunch,” Jeeves replied as the comm came to life.

  “Nova to Caged Bird,” Aisha’s voice sounded tentative over the link. “Am I doing this right? Paul is busy with his cable measurement and he asked me to check on Blythe.”

  After waiting a
few seconds, Jeeves explained, “You have to say ‘over’ when you’re done talking so we know it’s our turn. Blythe is feeling much better. Over.”

  “Oh, that’s good,” Aisha replied guiltily, knowing that Blythe hadn’t expected to spend her day a full tow-cable length away from Paul. “Uh, Over?”

  “If you’re done with the conversation, you say Over and Out,” Jeeves informed her. “Over.”

  “Oh, then, Over and Out for now, I guess,” the girl replied.

  “Don’t,” Blythe interrupted Jeeves before the robot could explain the archaic radio communications protocol further. “Next time just open the main viewer so we can see each other talking like the rest of the intelligent life in the galaxy.”

  “You two seem to know each other quite well,” Clive commented in a friendly manner, maneuvering to enter the conversation. “I know that we were introduced before we boarded, but you seemed a bit distracted. My name’s Clive.”

  “Hi Clive,” Blythe responded, feeling a little ashamed that she really hadn’t registered the man’s name during their introduction, a serious professional lapse. But this was her day off, after all, and she had expected to spend it showing Paul how she and Aisha compared, which struck her as pretty dumb idea in retrospect. “I’m Blythe, and this is Jeeves, but I think you knew him already. Jeeves does some work for me from time to time since I’m in a business partnership with the Stryx, and we’ve known each other forever through the school.”

  “A business with the Stryx?” Clive asked with undisguised interest. “I never had any direct dealings with Stryx until I stopped into Middle Station to ask their librarian some questions a few weeks ago. I was referred to your station librarian here, and I can’t get over how generous she’s been with her time. But I never knew the Stryx went into business with humans.”

  “Sure, just talk like I’m not even here,” Jeeves muttered loudly.