April 2: Down to Earth (12 page)

"Take this guy's weapon too," April instructed, keeping her eyes on the other fellow. Don quickly and efficiently patted the fellow down and removed a similar pistol from a shoulder rig and then another much smaller pistol from one ankle and a slim double edged dagger from the other leg. All that and a com pad from each, made for bulging pockets on his jump suit.

"His buddy probably has a hold out too," he suggested. "Shoot the sucker if he gets too twitchy when I search him," he instructed. The man glared hatred at them, but kept his hands away from his body and submitted to the search, but his hands were fists clutched in fury.

Don came up with another knife. This one a wicked folder on a composite lanyard. Don reached in a pocket and got a pair of miniature flush cutters with diamond jaws and snipped the line. From another pocket he pulled out a big wad of paper money folded in half under an elastic band. The top bill was a five hundred dollar USNA bill. He just shoved it back in the man's pocket and a flash of surprise went across the man's face. Another pocket yielded a small leather ID case, that Don held onto but didn't open up yet. The man had no second gun, but when Don pulled a slim tube with a screw cap out of the man's pocket he spoke up.

"Don't open that, or you'll endanger us all. It's terribly hazardous."

Don looked a question at him, but April thought she understood.

"It's a roll of Bucky Braid isn't it?" she asked, anger coloring her voice.

The fellow looked slightly shame faced and just nodded a short yes.

"Damn you filthy shits," she said heartfelt. "You should get it tangled in your jock." It was a near invisible braided bucky tube line, fine as a spider web strand, a spy weapon, which could cut a man in two straight through his bones. A filthy, horrible weapon, usually used as a booby trap. She jammed the discharge orifice of the laser harder in the man's neck in anger, but kept trigger discipline.

"Easy, easy, easy," he begged, voice little and not aggressive at all.

Don stuffed it in his pocket unopened and pulled himself back away from them, with his back against the booth and addressed her, "So, after all this trouble, I sure hope you're fixing to give me a ride, because I don't think I'm very popular around here."

"You saved our butts once. I'm happy to return the favor. Why are you trying to stop my friend from reaching my ship?" she asked the two, angry and visibly dangerous.

"Please, look at my ID,"  the one she was still straddled asked and made a small shaking motion with the small leather folder still in his hand.

"Take it Don. I'm comfortable right like I am. I can bag both of them for sure if they move on us, so go ahead and look at the ID."

Don took the ID, but stepped well back to look at it, to give April a clear field of fire and put himself out of easy reach of the two.

"Well! Your pony here is Navel Intelligence, assigned to Homeland Security." He turned the case around and showed her the photo ID and a heavily embossed badge clipped on the case. The shield was gold finish with blue enameling in it. He pocketed the ID instead of returning it.  "Let's see what the other fellow is." He opened the case and screwed up his face with a strange expression. "He's on loan too, but what the heck is a Postal Inspector? I've never heard of them and I thought I knew every flavor of cop." If they expected the ID to intimidate either of them it didn't work. Don inquired, "What should we do with this trash? I hate to be rude and leave a mess in public cubic." Nobody thought he meant the items he had taken from them.

They were interrupted as two station security, in uniform and armed, one with a Taser and one with a tangle gun, came up and appraised the situation. The older of the two was fit looking, but had the steely gray hair that said he hadn't started any age extension therapies. He made a stopping gesture at the younger, when he started to call his dispatcher. He was probably going to ask for back up seeing weapons, but the gray haired one was in no rush.

"I'd like some explanation what is happening here." He asked in a calm voice and assumed no aggressive manner at all. April immediately felt he had what was described as command presence and radiated a aura of competence, neither did he seem afraid at the sight of the weapon on the agent's neck, or the grips hanging out of Don's coverall front, as if he saw that every day. "Who called for us and why is there a problem?" He seemed concerned, but he made no move to press close and fixed them with a gaze that was suitable for misbehaving school children. His fearless manner created more caution than an overly aggressive response would have. When he shrank away from the older one, April felt from his body language that the man she was perched on was just as intimidated by the station cop, as the muzzle under his ear.

"I had my crewman call," she spoke up, seizing the initiative. "I'm April Lewis, Master of the
Happy Lewis
at your dock. I'm meeting this passenger, to escort him aboard and these two appeared to be obstructing his passage to our vessel. We disarmed them, when the fellow here nearest you started waving a gun around. It is a treaty condition between the USNA and Home, that nobody may be impeded traveling to or from Home. I'm trying to restrain myself from shooting them out of hand, but what they are doing is an act of war from our view."

"Mr. Adams is a USNA citizen, not a citizen of Home," the Postal Inspector informed the station security. We have orders to arrest him for questioning, regarding terrorist sabotage and acting as a foreign agent. As you can see there appears to be some basis for our suspicions, since they are coming to his aid."

"You guys just don't get plain language do you?" April asked. "We made clear no one is to be denied access to Home. Doesn't matter what their citizenship is. That was because we figured you'd try to stop defectors. For that matter if a Chinese citizen wants to come to Home through your territory you have no right to stop them either. Passage rights are what precipitated our war in the first place. Don? What's your take anyway on this crap about sabotage and being a foreign agent? Where are they getting that?"

"I suppose the sabotage is when I let the
Happy Lewis
off the grapples last year, to keep the Chinese from grabbing you guys. Seems they are still pissed at me for doing that, but your amnesty program kept them from doing anything for awhile. China and the USNA - What can I say? - Birds of a feather and all that. I've been working dockage and fueling until a week ago, which is all high security clearance work and nobody complained about anything else I've done. But Eddie sent me a gift of money, in appreciation for helping you guys and when the Feds saw me spending it, they removed my security status to work in a restricted industry. They canceled my access, so I couldn't even go back to clear my locker out. They brought me my suit and work things," he said nodding at his bag."

"But I couldn't work anymore, so why would I stay on ISSII? I could live on Eddie's money, but I need something to do. Ya know? I can't sit around and watch vids and drink beer. I'd go nuts. I just abandoned my furniture and things and stuffed a few keepsakes in a bag and came. Trouble is, when I got here they wouldn't sell me a commercial shuttle ticket to Home, because security put me on the no board list. It's stupid. Why allow me to leave without arresting me, then strand me here? I've been stuck here two days trying to get a ride."

"Ten million Euro is hardly appreciation money!" the inspector objected. "Mr. Adams is an agent of Home, bought and paid for." Talk of that much money raised some eyebrows with station security. Most residents in orbit were at least annual millionaires, but they needed to spend that annually to live too. Ten million cash was still a pretty good chunk of change.

"You do anything for us since you helped us undock? Did you spy?" April asked Don.

"No. But that doesn't help with this sort," Don explained with a dismissive little flip of his hand at the two agents. "They assume you're as crooked as them. So I might as well have the game as the blame. Do you have room for another worker, with a bankroll to establish himself?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course! We owe you big time. More than ten million Euro, or any amount of money could ever repay. That's chump change for Eddie. He's building two more ships right now and they're gonna make the
Happy Lewis
or the
Home Boy
obsolete as war craft. You have a job flying them or working on them. Eddie owns them but Lewis Couriers will lease and license operating them. Where ever you can fit in - come on."

"We'll be going then," she informed the station security men. Pushing a little, to see if they'd try to act for the government muscle. "Can I assume you'll baby-sit these two and allow us to leave without shooting the place up to get away? I hate to make a mess and scare people. You have a real chance of starting our war back up if we have to shoot our way free," she threatened casually.

"These two have taken our weapons," the Navel agent said, still not giving up entirely. "He may be free to go to Home, but he's still a USNA citizen who can't carry a weapon through security into flight operations."

That specific complaint produced a brief flash of unhappy concern from the security men. April read that reaction to mean they had already decided to let them go and didn't welcome another roadblock to wrapping this problem up.

"Do you want to trust station security not to give them their guns back, to them until we undock?" April asked Don, skeptically.

"No. They have too much leverage on the local guys. I don't even want to put them in that awkward of a position, with Federal agents." The look on the station security man's face said he was relieved, rather than offended. "I could give all the hardware to you to carry, but I kinda like having it right now," he admitted. "I have a different idea. What do I have to do, to become a citizen of Home?" Don asked.

"Just live there. Simple residency. Even if you sleep in hot slots. If you have ten million Euro, you can buy some small cubic outright. But if you have any doubt, you're welcome in my home and I know a dozen that would say the same. Just say you want to live there. No oath or anything formal required."

"You recording back to your office?" Don asked the security men.

"Yes Sir." The senior one said with surprising respect and touched the small square riding on his shoulder with a fish eye lens on the face. A public eye. "Video streaming back also." The calm intelligent look, said he seemed to understand what was coming.

"OK then this is for the record. I, Don Adams, born a native of Lorain Ohio and recently living in habitat ISSII under USNA control, federal ID number 567-32-4011, renounce my citizenship in the United States of North America and will now reside in the nation of Home and accept their citizenship." He reached in his pocket and pulled out his citizens ID card and sailed it across to the security people. "I won't need that anymore," he assured them. Nobody mentioned the mandatory buy-out and exit tax. That was probably smart.

April gathered her feet under her in the small of the back of the agent. "One last thing," she said quietly now into his ear. "Travel to Home is unrestricted, but if I see either of you two Earthies in Home, I'll personally shoot you dead on sight, without a word of warning. I don't like your kind of hired muscle. I'll post intent on the community board when I go home, same as if you were banished, so if you show your face - it's on your own head." The emotionless way she said it was more chilling than if she'd barked it out in anger.

"Thanks for the quick response from station security," she directed to the other two and jumped back for the chairs and turned there watching the group and covering Don, who made the longer jump straight for the security island in the middle of the volume.

The few people seated in the waiting area were looking back and forth, between them and the group back at the com booth. Some concerned, some fascinated at the public display. Then she noticed the fellow sitting with his video camera down on the seat beside him, with his hand resting on it. He had panned the thing under his hand to follow her. He must be running it through his spex, trying not to be too obvious. He didn't look worried at all over the disturbance, he looked delighted. April had learned when a camera had a big lens on front like that, it was probably a professional model. He must be some sort of reporter. Oh well, she thought, with a little luck he got the whole thing from the start and it wouldn't reflect badly on them at all. After all, she could have shot them. Probably should have.

She looked square at the camera and gave him the biggest grin she could and a wicked wink. He looked startled to be caught out, but didn't look over at the com booth. That was an even better sign, if he was trying not to be noticed by security. Perhaps they would confiscate his gear if they knew he was recording. Good. Maybe he would even make a fair presentation of their side, instead of favoring the cops.

She satisfied herself they still weren't being followed and jumped to join Don, but she kept her gun in her hand just in case. The scanning technician was used to folks from Home, but looked a bit flustered to see her weapon out in her hand. She offered her ID card to him and he scanned her out of the public cubic.

"What about your friend with no ID?" the techie asked. "He shows at least five prohibited items on scan and a half dozen other probable violations. I have to cover my butt you understand. Even though station security is standing over there letting you go." He was wearing the same sort of Public Eye camera on his shoulder security had.

"This is Don Adams. He just became a Home citizen standing over there a couple minutes ago. They have it on vid. We'll put in a request next visit for an alien card for him. If they give you any hassle tell them I threatened the station and you had no choice for the sake of public safety. In fact I'll make it easy. Click?" she said into her spex, "you following this?" She kept checking over her shoulder, as did Don.

"Sure April. Thanks for keeping the feed open. I haven't said anything because you didn't need your elbow juggled. But it's been entertaining."