Empire Night on Union Station (EarthCent Ambassador Book 18)

by E. M. Foner

  “Czeros explained that given the amount of money I need to invest, putting ten thousand here and fifty thousand there isn’t going to get me very far,” Kelly said. “He implied if I want to put millions of creds into alternative investments I should look into infrastructure projects.”

  “Typical tunnel network infrastructure projects cost from hundreds of billions to trillions of creds. While signing on as a backer for a project like a space elevator would give you an easy way to dispose of your capital, you would be a very junior partner with no control over the management.”

  “Then it doesn’t meet the Thark ambassador’s definition of an investment,” Kelly said, nodding at Crute’s point. “So either I need to find smaller infrastructure projects or abandon the idea of alternative investments. Do you have any suggestions?”

  The Dollnick spread all four arms in an expansive gesture that took in the whole room. “Planetary-scale infrastructure is necessarily large.” He brought his hands together. “Community-scale infrastructure is necessarily small. Why not invest in your sovereign human communities?”

  “Because the money is actually EarthCent’s. If we start funding projects for the sovereign communities, it might be misunderstood as an attempt to interfere with the Human Empire through soft power,” the ambassador explained. “Even though my associate ambassador dedicates most of his time to CoSHC, we try to maintain a degree of separation.”

  “I don’t understand why that is, nor do you seem to be doing a very good job of it,” Crute commented. “Have the Stryx placed some limitations on EarthCent that my intelligence people aren’t aware of?”

  “No,” Kelly said. “Maybe I’m overthinking it. But to your point about community investment, the host species on the open worlds provide the basic infrastructure. Perhaps we need to focus on institutions.”

  “I suggest you talk to Ambassador Srythlan. The Verlocks have forgotten more about running academy systems than most species ever knew.”

  “But what kind of return on investment can schools offer?”

  “Educated children,” the Dollnick replied.

  “I know that,” Kelly said in exasperation. “EarthCent is already spending the cookbook money as fast as we can find worthy projects that fit into our mission.”

  “Educating children isn’t a worthy project? If you choose me as the mentor to the Human Empire, I’ll stress civic education as the key element to building for the future.”

  “I appreciate your willingness to help us, Crute, but it’s not my decision. The ad hoc committee is going to discuss mentors with Daniel, and don’t forget whoever they choose will require Stryx approval.”

  “Suit yourself, but if you offer the mentorship to the Vergallians, I’m keeping your half of the gold,” the Dollnick ambassador huffed.

  Eighteen

  “One more demonstration and we’re out of here,” Dorothy told Flazint and Lancelot, glancing around as if she was expecting somebody who hadn’t shown up yet.

  “Myst hated leaving early, but it was the last chance she had to take the ASATs before the next semester,” Lancelot said.

  “ASATs?”

  “All Species Aptitude Test,” he told her. “I guess the Stryx waive them for Humans.”

  “She’s going to kill me if you skipped the test just to work with us,” Dorothy said. “Myst keeps talking about how you’re going to take the same courses and do your homework together.”

  “How romantic,” Flazint said. “I almost wish I was back in school.”

  “I already took the ASATs on the Gem homeworld,” Lancelot told them. “Myst said my scores were the second best thing about me in my catalog description.”

  “After your hair,” Dorothy recalled with a laugh. “Anyway, we made it through three demonstrations, and Jeeves is going to be impressed by how many potential customers we lined up. I never thought I could get tired of talking about fashion, but I’m close.”

  “You kept it interesting by changing what you said every time,” the Frunge girl said. “I’ve lost track of all the promises you’ve made.”

  “They weren’t promises, they were ideas. I was just thinking out loud.”

  “I hope all of the customers who gave us their contact information realize that. While we have a few minutes to breathe, I’m going to stick my head through the curtain and see if Baa and Stick need any help packing up.”

  “Don’t be too long,” Dorothy said. “We’re up again in ten minutes and the crowd is already starting to gather.”

  Flazint slipped through the curtain to the other side of the booth and found Baa absorbed with arranging Stryx creds in stacks according to the denominations. “Another good day?” the Frunge girl asked.

  “Sold out,” the Terragram mage replied. “I should have thought of charging to sign my name two years ago. Easiest money I’ve ever earned.”

  “Didn’t you used to collect tithes directly from your worshippers when you were in a pantheon?”

  “Do you think it’s easy being a goddess?” Baa demanded, and dropped to her knees in front of the shocked Frunge. “Oh, Great and Mighty Flazint. Make it rain upon my crops, but smite my neighbor’s field with hail. Freeze the river so I can cross without getting wet, and see if you can do something about the hole in my roof. Oh yes, and make the chieftain’s son fall in love with me.”

  “Get up,” Stick said irritably. “You’re scaring away the customers with your dramatics. If I can sell the last four units I won’t have to bring anything back to the office.”

  “Wow, both of you have done phenomenally well,” Flazint said as Baa got to her feet. “We don’t have any sales to speak of on our side, just contact information we’re collecting.”

  “And we didn’t get a fraction of the crowd you and Dorothy drew with the nanofabric demonstrations, but the people we did attract were all buyers,” the Vergallian sales manager said. He gave her an intense look. “Dorothy didn’t accept any money for the promises she was handing out, did she?”

  “No, Tzachan was very clear about that. Taking money is like making a contract. All we took were names and contact information.”

  “I don’t think anybody else is coming,” Baa said, looking up and down the aisle. “Some of the other vendors are already folding up their tables.”

  “We have a final demonstration scheduled on our side,” Flazint told them. “The numbers of casual drop-bys have been way down since lunch, though. I guess most people who are attending a tradeshow don’t leave it for the last afternoon.”

  “That’s because the vendors have run out of freebies by the last day,” Stick said. “I haven’t seen any of those Human Empire observers come through since Wednesday. They stuffed their swag bags a few times and then found somewhere more interesting to be.”

  “As the acting manager of SBJ Fashions, I declare this side of our booth closed,” Baa announced. “Flazint, hold my bag for me.”

  “Where did you get this one?” the Frunge girl asked. “The clasp isn’t mine, and I don’t recognize the design.”

  “It’s experimental. Just hold it open.”

  “Are there six feathers embroidered on the side? I thought five was the limit.”

  “For bags we sell, not for prototypes.” The Terragram mage started by dumping stacks of coins into the purse, and then began feeding in her beanbag chair a handful at a time.

  “Baa,” Flazint whispered. “The weight isn’t changing and the bag should have been full with just the coins.”

  “Don’t mention it to Dorothy or she’ll start telling people that we’ll have them for sale any day,” the mage said, following the beanbag chair with an improbably large thermos. “I doubt the Stryx would allow me to sell real interdimensional storage bags to the great unwashed, but while Jeeves is away…”

  There was a loud ‘pop’ and the young Stryx appeared in the booth. “What did you do now?” he demanded. A tendril of visible energy spun off the end of his pincer and touched the six-feather purse. “You�
�ve created a real bag of holding,” Jeeves said accusingly.

  “I don’t recall anybody telling me that I couldn’t,” Baa retorted, taking the purse back from Flazint. “And I’m keeping the creds I earned signing bags. I checked with counsel and autograph fees fall under the ‘personal appearances’ clause in my contract.”

  “Did your legal consultation have anything to do with the three-thousand-cred invoice I received from the law firm of Aaxina, Aleeytis, and Arriviya?”

  “I just remembered I have to help Dorothy with something,” Flazint said and ducked back through the curtain.

  “That has nothing to do with me,” Baa said. “And the acting manager of SBJ Fashions gave me the rest of the day off just before you arrived, so I’ll be on my way.”

  “I’ll finish cleaning up and be on my way as well,” Stick said, but when he moved towards the table, Jeeves stuck out his pincer and stopped the Vergallian.

  “I want to know what’s going on around here,” the young Stryx said. “I caught Dorothy’s demonstration of the Gem nanofabric on the Grenouthian news and hurried back, but I didn’t see anything in it that would explain why a Vergallian law firm is demanding I compensate them for fifteen hours of billable time.”

  “It was all a misunderstanding and Tzachan took care of it,” Stick said. “I guess the party of the first part wants us to pay their legal bill, but it all happened within the space of an afternoon, so I don’t see how they could charge us for fifteen hours.”

  “Us? Are you offering to pick up part of the tab?”

  “I meant SBJ Fashions.”

  “The invoice shows three partners at four hours each, so apparently they discussed the merits of Dorothy’s crimes over a long lunch. The three hours billed for obtaining a court order is obviously padding, but you have to expect that.” Jeeves lifted his pincer like a turnstile to allow Stick to proceed with cleaning up, and then the young Stryx slipped through the curtain to the other side of the booth. Even though it was still a minute before the hour, the EarthCent ambassador’s daughter launched into her final demonstration the moment her boss appeared.

  “I’ve been talking about our miraculous new fabric for two days now, and in just a minute, I’ll ask Lance to put the nanobots through their paces,” Dorothy began. “But first, I want to ask a question. How many of you enjoy ordering expensive dresses from a catalog, and then hoping that you won’t split a seam the first time you turn around to look at the back in the mirror?”

  “That’s kind of a leading question,” a woman wearing the Drazen version of a power suit responded.

  “Sustained,” Dorothy said and pounded her fist on the table like a gavel. “Here on Union Station, we’re blessed with dozens of boutiques that carry all the sizes for our respective species, but how many of you are from open worlds?”

  Around three-quarters of the women, primarily sales reps from other booths who had heard about the SBJ Fashions demonstration and had been waiting for the tradeshow to wind down, raised their hands.

  “Perfect. How many fashion boutiques are there in your community?” Dorothy asked, pointing at a woman whose raised hand displayed a prosthetic second thumb.

  “None, actually,” the Drazenphile replied. “I update my avatar crystal whenever I’m somewhere with a Vergallian fitting room and order my clothes from catalogs, but most of the women in our mining consortium don’t have an avatar.”

  “And you?” Dorothy pointed at a woman whose hair was dyed green and wound around a trellis in imitation of vines.

  “There aren’t enough humans in our factory town to support any high-end retailers, but I got this dress in a Frunge boutique and did the alterations myself,” she said.

  “Nice job,” the EarthCent ambassador’s daughter complimented her. “But what if there was a better option than avatar crystals for mail-ordering clothes? What if there was a magical way you could try on any dress in a fashion house’s catalog before placing the order?”

  “Are you talking about building an alternative to Vergallian fitting rooms on open worlds?” the woman with the avatar crystal asked. “As good as they are, it’s still just holographic projections. You can’t actually feel the clothes.”

  “But with our breakthrough technology, you can,” Dorothy proclaimed and turned to her Gem assistant. “Show them, Lance.”

  The young clone touched his programming device to the tube dress on the dummy and cycled it through several styles. Jeeves remained at the back of the booth, simultaneously watching the demonstration and reviewing Union Station’s security imaging of the booth from the last two days.

  “Now I have an admission to make,” Dorothy announced dramatically. “During our three previous demonstrations, when I asked for a volunteer from the audience, I actually chose ringers who have worked for us as fashion models.”

  “Everybody does that,” said a middle-aged woman who was either an amateur bodybuilder or from a high-gravity world.

  “That’s because you never know when somebody might be capturing video, but in this case, a model with a perfect dress size wouldn’t prove anything,” Dorothy said. She read the name off of the stocky vendor’s nametag and asked, “Can I draft you as our volunteer, Sandra?”

  “If you think it will stretch to my size,” Sandra said. “I’m not responsible if it rips.”

  “It would take advanced weaponry to damage the nanofabric,” Lancelot assured the woman as she squeezed through the gap between the table and the curtain dividing the space from the next booth. “I’ll just need to know your rough size to start.”

  Sandra whispered a number in the clone’s ear.

  “Just step behind our changing curtain and we’ll test the wisdom of crowds to pick out something nice for you,” Dorothy told her. “Tell us when you’re ready.” Then she brought up the SBJ catalog on her tab and set it to start cycling through the different styles in full-screen mode so she could hold it up for the audience to see. “Let’s do a show of hands. Vote as often as you see something you think will suit our volunteer.”

  Some styles received near-unanimous approval, but every hand went up for a calf-length tea dress in a floral pattern. Dorothy reported the catalog number to Lance, who reprogrammed the nanofabric just as Sandra called out, “Ready.” The young clone pulled the now-loose dress from the clothing dummy and gave it to Flazint to deliver to the woman. A minute later, the volunteer model stepped out from behind the curtain, drawing a round of applause.

  “That’s just for starters,” Dorothy said and examined the fit critically. “Normally, I’d do this with pins, but—Lance, take the waist down a full size and let out the hips.”

  Lancelot entered the new settings on his programming device and touched the dress, which quickly adjusted, causing Sandra to let out a squeak of surprise.

  “I think you’re being conservative with your bosom, Sandra,” Dorothy continued. “Let the chest out a half-size, Lance, and run a gradient to the waist.”

  “A what?” the volunteer model asked.

  “It’s just technical talk for spreading the difference over a measured distance,” the fashion designer said and nodded in approval after the clone made the changes. “How does it feel, Sandra?”

  “Like the best fit I’ve had in years.”

  “Now we can really have some fun,” Dorothy said and winked at the audience. “Let’s see an A-line with the same settings.”

  Lancelot tapped a single icon and touched his device to the dress, which reformed itself in a matter of seconds. Sandra looked down like she couldn’t believe what was happening, and the women in the audience broke into applause.

  “The tube dress,” Dorothy said, and the nanofabric remade itself again at a touch from the device. “Can you match it to her eyes?”

  “Just look at the blinking light,” Lancelot requested, holding the device in front of the woman’s face. “Got it.”

  Some of the women in the audience actually began cheering as the dress re-colored itself aquama
rine, and Sandra grabbed the clone’s wrist to stop him from making another change. “This is it,” she said. “I want to buy this one. I don’t care what it costs.”

  “Save the parameters, Lance,” Dorothy said. “I’ll have to get the exact price to you since it’s a special order with the fabric color and modifications, but I’m guessing it will be within twenty percent of the catalog price.” She glanced at Jeeves for the first time before continuing. “I don’t want to sound like I’m headhunting any of you from your current jobs, but SBJ Fashions is now taking names for potential, er, direct sales franchisees on open worlds. We don’t know the exact fee structure yet, and the majority of your cost will be the nanofabric fitting technology. If any of you want to sign up…”

  “I’ll sign up,” Sandra said immediately. “Are you going to offer financing for new franchisees? I can’t even imagine what this nanofabric must cost. I live on a Verlock open world and I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “We haven’t finished crunching the numbers yet, but we are hoping to launch within the next few cycles,” Dorothy said, looking over at Jeeves again. “Everybody who is interested should leave their contact information. We’ll get you a, uh, prospectus as soon as we finish the fine print.”

  Practically every sales rep in the audience stayed behind to register for the franchisee contact list. There was still a crowd at the SBJ Fashions booth when the Dollnicks sounded the chime announcing the end of the tradeshow, but eventually Dorothy realized that she couldn’t avoid Jeeves for the rest of her life, and allowed the last woman to depart.

  “Are you going to keep staring at me?” Dorothy confronted her boss. “You told me not to buy any nanofabric and I didn’t. We borrowed this sample from the Gem ambassador.”

  “And how many different people did you promise it to?”

  “None, I mean, not in so many words. We told everybody that it was all very beta, and we got a ton of free publicity from the Grenouthians.”