April 5: A Depth of Understanding (31 page)

"Well, obviously she does. If it works it's not stupid," Jeff told him.

Sam could only nod acknowledgement. A cannon... He remembered something Jeff said.

"You said you had an interest in the lunar colony and spoke of this Heather by name. I'm sorry for your loss, if you've lost a friend to the bombardment."

"Oh, thank you, but it's a little early to assume that yet. Our people still on the surface there report there are noises to indicate they are digging out. I rather imagine chances are they would all be dead or all alive. I doubt there was any in-between. They did dig a crater that displaced about three million cubic meters of rock and soil. It's going to be a tremendous pain to fill that back in and it's going to make engineering use of the site more difficult. I don't intend to make a big issue of that as long as there weren't any causalities."

Samuel felt a stirring in his guts. A sudden realization he was completely misreading this situation and a panicked review of what he'd said, not thinking it important.
Now
he understood why Jeff might think him under duress to answer.

"What course of action are you contemplating then?" he asked, suddenly shaky, but managed to control his voice. "Assuming as you say, your friends are safe?"

"April here has lobbied me to not strike Beijing. She points out that would provoke people in many nations because of the loss of irreplaceable antiquities. The Forbidden City and all the things in museums. I have to tell you, when I bombarded Jiuquan, I expected some sort of retaliation and we sat for several days, our fingers on the trigger so to speak, ready to hit Beijing. I'm glad we didn't now, the coup down there forestalled any response they might have made. For awhile at least. This is why I'm talking to you. I'm trying to see what the mind set is of the people in charge. Obviously it has shifted again, to want to confront us. I'm also waiting to make sure Heather and the others are well and uninjured."

"We don't understand what motivates your politicians," April spoke up and told him. "not just your politicians, it isn't a West vs. Chinese cultural thing. We can't figure out where the North Americans are coming from either. We tore the snot out of North America and they still seem eager to engage us. That's why we moved out here from Low Earth Orbit. They couldn't resist snipping at us. After the device Jeff dropped on Jiuquan we'd have thought any sane people would weigh the risk and decide bothering us just wasn't worth it... But here you are."

"There is arrogance I admit," Sam said choosing his words carefully. "They have gotten used to the idea that two billion Chinese are a force nobody can oppose. Certainly not a few thousand people in a little can beyond the moon."

"I could
reduce
that number considerably, if that's what it takes to adjust their attitude."

Sam really didn't like the look on Jeff's face when he said that. It wasn't hateful or filled with any anger or malice, just factual. It was just – blank – poker face his brain supplied. He had a pretty good grasp of colloquial English.

"My crew have all separated themselves from China," Sam explained. "Really, I find myself at odds with my government, former government,  just like you do. There's no going back for us. We'd spend the rest of a short life in a hard labor camp. And yet, I love the land and the history, like April said. I'd like to preserve that and many of the people are fine. They don't know or care about politics. They care about their family and the next rice harvest, like they have for thousands of years. It pains me to think you may harm that, but what can I say? We're here now and what is good for Home has now become our interest too. I honestly can't offer any advice that serves both. If talking to them did any good we'd have tried to go back and plead our case."

"I will try talking to them," Jeff vowed. "It may not do any good, but it won't cost me like it would have you. I'm nowhere near as at their mercy as you. As long as they don't touch my people I'll try to be moderate."

"I am at your service if I can help," Sam said. He was saying that with a depth of understanding he lacked when he thought Jeff was a school boy.

"Thank you. If I can help you with integrating into our society I owe you that much for your candid answers and not bombarding Central further."

"Well, we have arrived with no cash, but the considerable fortune of a running ship and all its supplies. We need to raise money and find work. Mr. Lanakila here suggested I sell a couple of our nuclear missiles, either for somebody to mount to their ship or to reverse engineer. You wouldn't know a manufacturing company or a bank to suggest I go deal with by any chance?"

" Dave Michelson runs Advanced Spacecraft Services. He does a lot of fab for us including weapons. I'll ask him if he is interested in buying a missile. If he isn't he'll probably know who will. You can talk to the Private Bank of Home tomorrow. See what kind of a deal he'll give you. He may want a lien on your ship and not just a missile if you want a lot of funds. If you don't get what you want come see me and I'll see if the System Trade Bank can do any better."

"Why in that order? Is there some reason to see the Private Bank first?"

"The System Bank is owned by we three, me, April and Heather the lady hopefully digging out on the moon. I've already thrust myself forward and offered to advise you, before you asked for it. It puts me in too good a position to take advantage of you to promote myself to be your banker too. Especially when you are new to Home. I felt it was a conflict of interest. Better you see a third party to at least see what else is available."

"That's...remarkably ethical. Thank you." He refrained from asking how they owned a bank when they looked like children to him.

"But I realize you won't get things squared away until tomorrow. Here," he said, leaning back and pulling his pad off his belt, "Oh, you don't have a pad," he realized, setting his on the table under his hand.

"No, but I'll have spex as soon as Lu shows me how to use them."

"Hang on a second." Jeff called Eric Pennington. "Eric, can you pull a used pad from your inventory and drop it at the check in desk to the Radisson? You need to register it on the local net to a Samuel Bia, B-I-A. Yes, no, charge me for it. I insist. Thank you, you too. There," he told  Sam, you have a room waiting and a pad which will have ten thousand dollars USNA on it. I'll transfer it before you get there. The desk clerk will show you how to make a local payment with it. You can square that up with me when you get some funds."

"Can I sign a note or something for you?"

"Really Sam? Are you going to stiff me for ten thousand?"

"Uh, no."

"Call me if there is anything Lu can't handle for you tomorrow," Jeff said gathering his things and getting up.

"Thanks, I will," Sam said to his back. There was a fellow a couple tables away by the wall who stood up too. Another Asian man. He tucked some sort of card in his shirt pocket and to Sam's horror drew a pistol with the quick assertiveness that said he was going to use it, not just wave it around. The set of his face said that too.

Sam stood abruptly, knocking his chair over behind him, not sure who to warn, reaching for his own weapon. The fellow hesitated an instant, staring at Sam just as shocked as Sam was, his mouth forming an O. Then he continued his motion turning to fire on the big guy Sam had noticed sitting watching them.

The big fellow was blinding fast and drew his own gun as soon as the other fellow's weapon came into his view as he turned. They shot at about the same time, but neither went down. The big fellow quickly put two more rounds in the man's chest, but it only staggered him back a step. The Asian fellow gave up on shooting the large man and pivoted back to them, gun coming around toward Sam, who had already drawn.

The gun swung and arm extended, everything reduced to slow motion in his mind, pointed not at him, but at Jeff, who started to turn, then went down, tackled by April. Sam ignored them, eyes locked on the gunman. the round went through where Jeff had stood, past Sam so close its passage slapped his cheek. He was focused only on placing his front sight on the man's face, squeezing delicately. the face distorted like a crushed mask and a red cloud filled the air behind him. He recovered from recoil and followed the target down as he fell backward. He sprawled limp and didn't get up. Sam didn't trust it, aiming at the man's crotch where he wouldn't be armored, ready to shoot at any motion.

"Jeff is hit!" April called loudly. Sam couldn't worry about that. He still had a gunman to deal with.

The huge man approached the fallen one, gun pointed, just as cautious as Sam. He kicked the gun further away from the man's hand and looked closely. "You put a round through his right eye," he called, "he's not getting back up." He dropped the hammer on his pistol and holstered it.

April was helping Jeff back up. He had a furrow across the back of his left shoulder, but it wasn't a serious wound. Apparently April knocked the breath out of him, taking him down. The big guy was there and helped lift him and sit him in a chair, before he turned to Sam.

Ruby appeared with a couple towels and made April hold them to the wound. "I called the clinic and asked for an emergency response," Ruby told them.

"I'm Gunny Mac Tindal, Mr. Bia, April's body guard. You look kind of freaked out and your gun is still in your hand, hammer back. May I suggest you drop the hammer
carefully
and safe it?"

"Yes, of course. I think I need to sit down too," he decided. He did as the man said, pistol pointed at the deck and sat back across from Jeff, who was breathing again, if shallowly.

"You know the ten grand I just loaned you?" Jeff asked, still short of breath and in pain.

Sam could only nod yes. He was getting shaky in the after action reaction.

"Consider it paid."

"Here, take this," April said handing Sam a capsule and laid one in front of Jeff too.

"What is it?"

"It keeps your hearing from being damaged by the gun fire. You have to take it within three hours, but why not now, while you are thinking about it?"

"This happens so often you carry these around, like breath mints?"

She sighed. "Not to normal people, no. But this is our second gun fight in the cafeteria. I hope Ruby doesn't ban us and make us eat in the Animal House." At his blank look she explained, "That's the other cafeteria where the vacuum rats and beam dogs eat. It's...not as nice."

"Ah yes, Lu mentioned it." He decided to trust her and swallowed the capsule.

Sam looked up and a bald black man almost as large as Gunny Mack was searching the body. He came over grim faced and slapped down a photograph on the table, hard. It was a head and shoulders shot of Jeff.

"Oh Crap," Jeff muttered. It seemed very restrained for the circumstances.

"That's Jon Davis, head of our Security," April supplied Sam. Jon had already turned away, grim faced and was ripping the shirt and vest off the body with a knife. He erupted in a string of curses. Sam thought he knew colloquial English, but he didn't know several, then he realized the man had progressed into some other language. He came back and sat with them, glowering.

"I'm Sam Bia, Mr. Davis. We spoke on com recently?"

"Yes, of course. Sorry your visit took such an ugly turn."

"What was upsetting you over there?"

"This fellow was a long term beam dog, with five years' service, a very experienced man. He's supposed to be Korean, but he has a double dot pattern tattoo on his shoulder that says he's Hunting Leopard dadu. Chinese special forces."

"A sleeper."

"Yes and now I have no confidence there aren't others in my jurisdiction. You and Gunny did well to take him down. Those boys are
good
."

"As good as he was, he hesitated for an instant when I stood up. He was shocked to see me."

"He
knew
you?"

"Not
me
, but he hardly expected a Chinese officer in ship's uniform, with my rank tabs on, to stand up beside his target."

"Yes, that could rattle him."

"But he did know me," Gunny pointed out. "Maybe not by name, but he know I was April's body guard and knew or figured out I'd intervene for Jeff too, so he fired on me first."

"That isn't hard to figure out," April said. "Gunny shows up in news pix of me and some stupid gossip boards even suggest he is a love interest," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Thank you for taking him down," Gunny said. "You went right for a head shot and didn't waste time on his torso like I did. He didn't look
bulky
enough to be armored up."

"Neither do you," Sam observed, but there was a hole in Gunny's shirt and the coppery smear of a bullet spread under it. Not frangible like Gunny's rounds.

"Yeah but this is thin lunar stuff, special. I guess their stuff has been getting better too."

"It's been over a year since I qualified with pistol. Good thing I remember how."

"He missed me," Ruby said, back with more towels if they were needed. "Not that anybody bothered to ask. He killed my warming oven though."

"I saw you were up and walking, Ruby," Gunny objected. She just humphed, still miffed.

The medical cart pulled up outside the doors, a technician with a kit coming in. He barely hesitated at the Chinese assassin, not even checking for a pulse after seeing the ruin of his head. He came to Jeff, move a couple mugs aside and opened his kit open on the table. But he sent the clinic pix and was quietly conferring before he starting  any treatment.

"I just don't understand these Earthies," April complained, holding the towels back pressed after showing the techie the wound. "If I did I could predict when they'd do stuff like this and how to deal with them."

"It doesn't matter anymore," Jeff said, breathing better. "We're through trying to understand them. They can worry about understanding us now. It's an education they just earned and they shall regret asking for it. When I get through with them they will have a depth of understanding."

Chapter 21