"People don't usually take long to recognize that if they vote Moocher Party it's basically seizing the infrastructure and privatizing it. Of course hearing people call it the Moocher Party might help them clue up too. First of all, such folks appear to assume we'll just steal the hab from Mitsubishi, and then they don't seem clear on the idea that somebody is going to have to pay for it to be run, and Mitsubishi has done a fine job running it efficiently so far."
"Taxes are voluntary?" Morgan asked.
"Yes. If you want to vote on what gets funded and other matters you agree to pay taxes. If you don't you simply have no say," Jeff explained.
"But they have a right to be represented," Morgan objected, sputtering, "just for...existing and breathing!"
"Nope. They owe Mitsubishi for breathing. Believe me they will collect too. The Assembly will support them on that and eject anybody not paying their bills. That came up the second Assembly already. Security will put them on a shuttle with connections to The Sl...uh, Earth. They can exist for free, as long as they can hold their breath," Jeff joked. Morgan didn't think it was funny.
"I was going to speak to you about your desire to have landing rights for Australia. We have one seat and usually vote with the Liberal Party. The committee that controls such things has a Labor majority, and we thought we might add our voice to help shift the opinion on granting rights, but we could never align with people who would deny the basic necessities of life to people."
"Sorry you feel that way," Jeff said. "Just to clarify. I'd never deny the necessities to anyone, but they do have to pay for them. There are occasional folks who don't have family or didn't act prudently to buy insurance or save, and need a little charity, but charity is voluntary. I won't vote to rob my fellow citizens to create a permanent class of people entitled to live at the expense of others."
"You sir, and I say this for myself not the party, are a monster."
"Well, I doubt that leaves us much to discuss then, so good day to you," Jeff said pleasantly, just to irritate the twit, and disconnected. He wasn't sure upon reviewing the call that he wanted landing rights bad enough to deal with people like Mr. Morgan. He'd never revealed what the Prosperity Party wanted in exchange for their support, before he'd been outraged and offended. Somehow Jeff suspected they weren't going to offer to help simply because the people of Home existed and breathed, so they had a right to land on Australia.
* * *
April wasn't expecting a physical delivery. She got a call on com that Eric Pennington was at her door with a package for her. He was silly about it, insisting on handling their packages personally. She knew for a fact he had several kids working for him to courier packages, and he didn't need to show up personally to maintain a relationship with them. When she objected he just got all formal and said – "It is my pleasure."
She answered the door and found him standing there with a medium sized flat box.
"You could have used the door buzzer," April reminded him, hooking a thumb at the small flat screen beside the hatch.
"I never think of that," Eric said with a shrug. "I buy com service anyway so it all costs the same. This way I can call you from half way back to the elevator, so it saves everybody time."
April couldn't argue with that. She wondered if anybody would bother to have door buzzers in a few years. Except the folks who made them an art form, that played elaborate interactive video, like Heather and Barak's mom, Sylvia.
"You need my hanko?" April asked, eyeing the plain box. It wasn't FedEx or Larkin colors.
"It's from my sister, so you don't need to sign at all, I'm just delivering it as a favor. It isn't even a paid job."
"My, how you've come up in the world, doing philanthropy now," April teased him. "Would it bother you to take a cup of coffee for your trouble? I just started a fresh pot, and you can watch me open it and see what I got."
"I saw it already, because I saw her working on it, but I'd very much like to see you open it. Lindsey would enjoy having that told to her I'm sure," Eric said.
April stood back and waved him in. Eric looked around approvingly and commented. "I see you've gone to a full airlock entry. Sweeeet." he said, drawing it out heartfelt.
"Yeah, there was a newbie who bought cubic on the same corridor and begrudged the room it took. He's from Kuwait and made of money. It was advertised in What's Happening really cheap. I suspect he just told his contractor to get rid of it. So I grabbed it. We didn't even have to disassemble it completely to get it down the corridor so installing it was cheap too. I bet after he's here a year or two and finds out a curtain lock requires annuals and a stranger snooping around your cubic he'll be wanting one again. Then he'll find out what a genuine Mitsubishi lock costs to lift piece by piece. I wouldn't be surprised if he offers to buy it back."
Eric seated himself when she led him to the kitchen table, and he put the package down and slid it over to her side. She got a nice mug, one of the insulated ones and poured him a coffee. He took one of the cream packets she included and stirred it in. April poured her own but sat it well to the side where it couldn't spill while she was opening her package.
"I haven't commissioned Lindsey to do anything in awhile," April remarked as she opened the thin box carefully. "I don't have any place left to hang a big one." Eric said nothing. She was just making small talk, not pumping him.
April expected a drawing. That was after all what Lindsey did. The subject matter was what surprised her. She was sitting with Jeff at the little table in the Fox and Hare. They were very detailed at the center of the drawing in the style Lindsey had made her own. Jeff was looking at her, and Lindsey had caught the mischievous look he got perfectly. She was looking at him, and it made April blush. Was she really that transparent? But Lindsey got the intensity of her feeling right, so she must be. At least to somebody as observant as she.
The singer was in the background and as was her style less detailed, but the colors were still fairly strong. To each side were other tables, although the outside edges faded away to muted colors and a sort of line drawing beyond then. The couple April had seen get angry with each other and leave were still there and Lindsey had that all figured out too. Not that that was so hard. With those sort of people it was always something. The woman wasn't looking at her date, she was looking over at them, and the man looked sullen.
"My goodness, was she there?" April asked of Lindsey.
"No, she had a picture off a gossip site and a video off another. The video wasn't very good, but the still pic of you two on which she based the detail was decent."
"I have no idea what to send her," April said. "We've always worked to a negotiated commission. I've seen her stuff for sale and a piece this size must go for a tenth Solar by now."
"Twice that easily," Eric confirmed, "but please, don't send her anything! It's a gift and she'd be upset to be sent pay. She'd be upset with me for not making that clear."
April looked at it again and marveled. There were even little sparkles in the jacket, how did she do that? She pushed it to the side and cried in her hands.
Eric looked stricken. "Is there anything I can do?" he asked.
"I'm not unhappy," April had to explain. "I'm just too happy to contain it. I'm overwhelmed. This is so nice, and it must have taken hours and hours to do it for me."
"Nah, it's really scary to see, because I can't do it, no matter how many times I see her make it look easy. She'll make a little pencil sketch to the side in about ten minutes and then go straight to the final drawing. She blasted through that in about two hours. If I did it I'd have to label you and Jeff so you'd know which was which."
April wasn't through crying but she was laughing at the same time.
Eric seemed reassured but still a bit dubious. He tossed back the last of his coffee and stood up to go, uncomfortable. "Then I'll tell her you were pleased," he said. Still with a little question in his voice. "She made it just because you're friends," he repeated. "Thank you for the coffee."
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"We're friends too," April insisted, feeling he was excluding himself. She came around the table and gave him a hug. He was just short of head high to her shoulder and she had to lean over. He surprised her by putting his arms up around her neck and hugging her back, hard.
"Thank you," he said again and headed for the door. He looked like he might cry, which surprised April. Hadn't he known he was her friend too? Did she have to tell him? Apparently so.
* * *
"There he is," Li called out, and pointed.
Captain Havilland squinted and tried to discern the shuttle in the bright sky. This was the first time he's seen one come in, so Li was at an advantage, besides having the eye sight of a younger man. He moved his head a little side to side, because there were some faint reflection on the inside of the glass house that was their bridge. There was an overhead, and an overhang shading the glass, but almost no obstruction of the view on three sides.
There was a wheel, but more like an automotive steering wheel than the huge wooden affair with spokes that the public still pictures as a ship's wheel. The helm included an instrument panel to rival an aircraft for complexity. There were flat screens and control levers for the throttles. The console extended to each side and had a grab bar on each side of the helm at the back edge. The helm had a seat that could be brought forward to reach the wheel or run back so the helmsman could stand. There were two other seats on each side, set back slightly, and all three had sturdy belts.
It was hot and humid outside and they had no desire to go outside to watch the shuttle come down from the catwalk. It was also a first attempt no matter how confident everyone felt, and the bridge offered substantial protection. Captain Havilland glanced at the limp fabric wind indicator outside, that supplemented instruments on top of the superstructure. He didn't bother the helmsman by leaning over to examine his instruments. They were still running dead on with the slight breeze, almost fast enough to have zero airspeed.
The captain finally was sure he had the shuttle sighted. The point of light was not from ablative action. First it wasn't coming in that fast. It had bled off most of its speed out of sight to the west. The faint spark was the engine at idle, just running enough thrust to keep the atmosphere out of the thrust chamber.
They planned to let the shuttle land on autopilot. The human pilot would just have his hands on the controls, ready to override and lift off it there was any problem.
"Isle of Hawaiki, this is Dionysus' Chariot, Captain William Costa sitting the right seat. We have you sighted and on radar. Still on auto. Three minutes out. Is your deck clear and have I permission to land?" The one screen showed Costa head and shoulders in his acceleration couch. He had on his helmet but the face shield locked up. His eyes were down on the board not the camera. He looked to be about seventeen.
"Deck clear. The grappling gear is powered up and operational," Havilland said. "Bring 'er in."
The faint star had flared while he was speaking and was bright now. It didn't seem to be slowing down much at all. It came down like it was going to bore a hole through the bow of the ship.
Havilland, a veteran, demonstrated his reflexes by grabbing the rail in front of him and bending his knees for the expected impact. He looked ready to go down all the way behind the stout console.
Dionysus' Chariot dropped like a stone and didn't come to a hover until two meters off the hatch. It then dropped and had all three pads on the hatch in another five seconds. The steam from below boiled up and obscured it, but the pilot reported, "Down, at idle, weight on all three pads."
"Locking you down," the helmsman replied, flipping a switch on his board. They might give control of that over to the shuttle later, but for now they still had control from the ship.
"All three pads locked down. You should be secure and safe to shut down," the helmsman said.
Havilland stood back up straight and sucked in a big breath. The roar of exhaust ceased.
"Bloody hell. I've seen missile strikes plunge through the deck lazier than that approach. Fuel's cheap enough to waste a little more and not scare the crap out of us. I find it hard to believe he could react fast enough to goose her back in the air if something happened that last hundred meters!"
"I have to admit that was spectacular," Li said. "Don't forget the pilot is gene mod. He has the best reflexes money can buy. As fast as the best test pilot or world class athlete of twenty years ago."
"I'll stick with big ships," Havilland decided. "It's true you better think ahead a little further, because she won't stop or turn in a hurry, but it's much more leisurely piloting her."
"I've never been on a ship," Bill Costa said on the radio. "I mean a...wet ship. Should I ask permission to come aboard like in old videos?"
"No son, you are already aboard when a smaller vessel is on or in a larger one. Come on out when you feel like it. We have crew waiting to give you a hand and off-load. You realize I was about to throw myself off the rail thinking you were going to bore a hole through the bow?" Havilland asked.
"Shucks, that was the conservative five G approach," Costa insisted. "Ask me to put on a show sometime and I'll drop like a hawk on a rabbit."
"Have you actually ever seen that?" Havilland asked skeptically.
"Sure, I was raised on a Kansas farm," Bill said. "But this is going to be a treat. I've never seen the ocean before. I mean...except from orbit. Shutting down my board now," he informed them.
"Kansas..." Havilland said. "Somehow it's easy to forget most spacers aren't really from out there."
"Oh a few are," Li said. "I've had the pleasure of hosting them on my boat, as will you. They look just the same, mostly. Except for the ones that dress weird and the ones with tattoos. But then they will say something that sounds like English, but you are standing there looking at them blankly because it doesn't make any sense to an Earthie."
Havilland looked at him, a little distressed. "I'm an Earthie?"
"You are, and I still am, even though I've been out there," Li said.
"It's derogatory isn't it?" Havilland demanded.
"Well, it sort of depends on how they say it. It can be near neutral, or pretty snitty. But it's definitely a club for which neither of us have a membership card."
"I don't feel like an Earthie," Havilland protested.
Li shrugged. "It's like having an accent. I never have an accent," he assured Havilland. "It's always the other fellow, isn't it?"
"There's that," Havilland admitted.
* * *
"Assembly tomorrow," April reminded Jeff.
"Are you proposing anything?" he asked.
"I don't plan to. But I'm sure I'll vote on a few issues."
"Well yeah, but I don't know of any big proposals. People seem to have accepted that we'll just be at war with North America if that's what they want, as long as they don't do anything stupid."
"Put that way, I'm not very hopeful, April said.
"Yeah, they haven't done anything stupid since they decided to steal my bomb and take it apart. It's been weeks. That's a pretty good run for them," Jeff admitted.
"Do you know of anybody who wants to force an end to being at war?" April asked.
"No, how can you?" Jeff asked puzzled. "I mean, we could surrender or resume hostilities. How else could you end it? We can ignore it but it takes one party to declare war and two to fight it."
"I don't think they could actually fight North America and be sure of winning without you."
Jeff looked surprised at that, then thoughtful. "I won't be forced into it from our side."
"Yeah, I know," April agreed. "You want to go to the cafeteria? It's been packed the last two times. People had to go home and attend on com who couldn't get in."
"You can make a case for things better there," Jeff said. "If you speak from home you are just a floating head on a screen and you don't have the impact of the audience around you."
"Then we better get there early," April said.
Chapter 20
>
"I need some riggers for some special high value cargo," shuttle captain Costa said. "These are items not detailed on the manifest. They are crated up about three meters long and have eyelets and take-holds. Each masses near a half metric ton. They need multiple lines on them and they can't be loose on the deck at any time. They have to be secured until they are inside. If that means attaching and removing lines in sequence as they are moved then it will be necessary to do so. If you have someplace to take them into the superstructure rather than down in a hold that's to be preferred."
"What are these items?" Captain Havilland asked. He'd been told they would be bringing security devices and power equipment. But this sounded far too much like they could possibly be munitions, and he worried about bringing them right where all the ships vital systems were concentrated.
"I don't want to say on open com, but they will be held in storage very briefly. Once they are given a final check they will be...removed from the ship," Bill Costa promised.
"We have a very secure purser's locker that was used for high value cargo. It is down a passageway with a flat uninterrupted deck to roll heavy items straight through. There are two serious hatches between the weather deck entry, and the actual vault. It has cameras and alarms, and the bulkheads can't be breached without extensive machinery or explosives. Will that do?" Captain Havilland asked.
"That will do perfectly. Once these two items are removed the rest is high value, but of the normal range. Your new power plant is only about thirty kilograms. Oh...I sort of forgot this is your first shipment. The rest is all packed in sealed boxes, most about six kilo max. They can all be dropped in a net and put on a push cart or hand carried short distances. Mr. Li used to receive them down slides when we unloaded to his ketch, but sitting on her tail like this we can't use that. We do however have a one ton powered gantry that sticks out the open hold a meter and a half."
April 8: It's Always Something Page 26
