April 8: It's Always Something (18 page)

"They are more than limited by circumstances to project power to the moon," Heather reminded him. "We are serious about the L1 limit, and if they cross the line on that declaration we shall actively enforce it by any means necessary. Even if that means removing their ability to make lunar capable vessels on the Earth's surface. Even if it means removing
them
entirely as a political entity."

"We're counting on that," Harshaw admitted. "We didn't do this to provoke the Earth powers into testing you, but neither did we let it hold us back."

"Let's dicker," Heather suggested. "Are you willing to entertain some concessions in order to get our recognition, and to pay for our umbrella of lunar protection that you used to your advantage, without bothering to consult with us?"

Harshaw looked shocked. "I shouldn't have called you before I slept. I'm not sure I'm up to that level of negotiations. I didn't expect you to be so blunt in demanding anything from us right away."

"You mean you expected me to frame it in all kinds of hypocritical diplomatic language about ideals and solidarity and humanitarian goals?" Heather asked.

"Yeah, that's customary," Harshaw agreed. He rubbed his face wearily and looked distastefully at the hand that rubbed the dirty side. Apparently he had been unaware of it. "What do you want? Trade concessions? Border controls or extradition treaties? What's your price?"

"We had several scientists defect to us from Armstrong rather than accept being shipped back to the Slum Ball. They are for the most part willing to continue their research, but hampered by a lack of equipment. I'll be quite up-front with you. We intended to seize those items from Armstrong after we defeated the anticipated invasion. I can't see how the equipment is particularly valuable to you without the researchers. They are the real treasure. So how about cooperating on restoring their needed devices to the scientists?" Heather requested.

"Why not move the scientists back to the equipment?" Harshaw asked. "It seems much easier. They aren't in any danger of being sent back to Earth, now."

"I'm not going to
send
them anywhere," Heather said. "They came here of their own free will and if they want to leave that's fine. We don't really have a big enough community to support a large body of research. We don't even have a university yet. But we're willing to shelter them if that's their wish. We are already anticipating one of them going to the French. You are welcome to invite them to return if you want. But I'd oppose any forced repatriation."

"No, no, that's not my intent at all. We're not going to be like the USNA who regard talented people as commodities," he vowed. "But you don't know that, yet, and that is our origin, so I can't blame your distrust of our motives. I don't have any problem with reuniting the scientists and their facilities, either way. They can return, if it's their will, or we shall facilitate the removal of their equipment."

"Do you have the
authority
to make such an agreement?" Heather asked.

"Yes, I'm not a sovereign like you, but the entire committee agreed that they would all back whatever necessary agreements had to be made when we established contact with the outside again. It was by no means certain I'd be the one surviving to do so. We foresaw we would not be able to meet and work out every detail as a body. We are practical people, and realized there will be unforeseen changes and challenges. They are one of the prices of our independence and we knew there would be other prices than hardship and blood."

"Very well, then you have yourselves a deal," She sat up and her entire demeanor and voice changed. "We shall acknowledge your right of self determination, recognize your government when elected, and remind any and all opposed of the L1 decree, should anyone make threats," Heather promised, counting them off on her fingers. "That is Our will and decree."

Harshaw looked confused briefly at her change in manner, and then slowly got an amused smile. "That was the official and royal 'We' wasn't it?"

"Yes," Heather agreed, back to her milder private voice.

"That's the first time I've ever encountered it, except in a period video."

"Then you should visit when matters are settled. We can have you to Our luncheon, and We can provide amusement and a memorable experience," Heather offered, teasing him. "But for now, We think you should go sleep. I predict that your call to North America will be less pleasant, and you'll need your wits about you speaking with them."

"I find that excellent advice. Thank you," Harshaw said, and disconnected.

"See? I couldn't have satisfied the man," Dakota said. "You needed to deal with him."

"Not at all. I could have named you my Special Envoy for Lunar Affairs, without acknowledging their legitimacy as a nation by naming you an Ambassador to them specifically. I'd simply name you as my Voice within your field of interest, who could bind me to agreements as if I'd done so personally."

Dakota looked stricken. "Don't you
ever
do that to me. I don't want that hanging over my head."

"Some people would jump at the opportunity to wield such power," Heather told her.

"Some people would juggle hand grenades as a hobby," Dakota said.

"A poor simile," Heather said. "A grenade has a much smaller lethal radius than a government official in full plumage."

"I'm afraid I advised you badly," Myat said from the com screen, with a serious expression.

"Well, that's refreshing honesty," Huian said. "I can't think of anything we're committed to that's irreversible. Tell me about it and we'll see if we can't fix it."

"It doesn't
need
reversed," Myat acknowledged, "to my relief. Neither your Mr. Singh nor his investors have gotten back to us about the ship, the
VSHC12
, so we are not committed to it. My metal broker friend contacted me again and said the Vietnamese company has three more modern ships they must remove from service and all of them could be had for less than they were asking for the
VSHC12
.

"He said they have a whole list of other assets they wish to liquidate, harbor tenders and harbor properties, warehousing and things like heavy trucks and supplies to maintain and refurbish such vessels. He is totally unwilling to buy even one vessel himself, because the market for metal has dropped so badly, and is still headed down. Indeed, he said if he were offered one
free,
the cost of fuel and crew wages to tow it to a breaking beach would deter him. He didn't say it outright...But he seemed apologetic for forwarding the previous offer."

"Nothing lost since the vessel wasn't purchased," Huian said.

"Except my reputation," Myat said ruefully. "And his with me a little bit. I'm trying to learn more about the industry instead of depending on my acquaintance as an expert, because I see his knowledge doesn't extend beyond the scrap metal part of it much. I'm just glad I didn't push the deal harder, and my funds didn't get sunk into it."

"Sunk is not a propitious word to associate with a ship," Huian advised her. "I know the volume of trade is down. Is there enough trading in the local stock markets to assess the value of the company offering these vessels?"

"It's a State Owned Company, not a public one. So it's hard to get reliable information about it."

"Mr. Singh, Jeff, doesn't know much about Earth shipping either, but I know he asked a boat owner he deals with to find out more for him. A much smaller boat, a charter. But the fellow will know who to ask. I'll remind him of my interest and will share it when we know," Huian promised.

* * *

Barak read the message again, to make sure there wasn't some kind of catch or slippery disclaimer beyond the obvious one. It didn't ask any sort of release. If there was some trick to it he couldn't see it. Alice was working and he wasn't supposed to call her, but Deloris was free to take messages even though she was on call.

"Yes, I got a message too," Deloris said, from just the look on his face, before he could speak.

"Does it look genuine to you?" Barak asked. "I mean, they say it's contingent on the success of the current mission, but do you think they are going to play games with us and define success so narrowly we'll get cut off without anything again?"

"I don't think so. This isn't some sudden attack of conscience," Deloris said. "It's been a couple months now, and as much as I'd like to believe in the tooth fairy, she doesn't suddenly credit your account and make a deposit under your pillow because she's been laying awake at night worried you got shorted. No, somebody jabbed them with a sharp stick and shamed them. This is a PR move to make them look better to...someone.

"One of
your
friends," Deloris decided, looking shrewd, "because
I
don't know anybody with enough mojo to make them worry about how they look. That's fine with me. I don't care who laid the word on them. I'll take it and pretend it was their generous nature that finally caught up with them."

"Yeah, it could be one of three...four...Well, maybe five people," Barak guessed, frowning.

Deloris was amused watching him ponder potential benefactors. From someone else she'd take it as bragging. Barak didn't have it in him.

"I thought about trying to make a big enough stink to force them do something like this back when we were staying at your mom's. A whisper campaign, and some veiled comments on local net sites.
Not
the sort of an issue I'd have the guts to bring up with an Assembly, since they paid us by our contracts just fine. I just didn't have the stomach for it. Alice said pretty much the same thing, and we both decided to hell with them. We'd just never work for them again."

"You never spoke to me about that," Barak said.

"Well yeah. I have to admit we were afraid you might get all idealistic and decide it wasn't fair and you were going to
Do Something
."

When Barak looked a little hurt, Deloris explained. "That sort of a campaign, to pressure somebody with public opinion is a delicate thing. If you complain too loudly it can go the other way. People can get tired of hearing your complaint, and before you even notice, it has totally backfired on you. You can end up making others not want to hire you if they fear you'll do the same to them. We love you, but you're still a bit short on experience compared to us."

"Yeah, sometimes I know that, and sometimes I don't," Barak admitted. "But I'm still a little miffed you guys didn't talk to me about it."

"Fair enough. I'll talk to Alice about it," Deloris promised. "How much did they promise you?"

"Twenty thousand kilograms for exemplary service, and a five thousand kilogram bonus for duty at personal risk, in unavoidably hazardous conditions. Raw pumpable water from cometary grade ice, FOB their returned iceball in trans-lunar halo orbit," Barak read off his message.

"Mine says Twenty thousand for blah-blah service, and a five thousand bonus for taking command beyond grade and experience. I bet anything you want to risk, that Alice's reads the same, but the bonus for some other quality better matching her specialty," Deloris said.

"No thank you," Barak declined. "It may be a windfall, but it was hard-won enough I don't want to throw it away on a stupid wager."

"See? You're still green, but you're getting smarter by the day," Deloris said.

* * *

"Com is back up," Aukusti said, "You could have told me you were safe and coming back."

"Didn't need to," Jaako said, scowling at his brother. "I made the delivery, got a receipt. You didn't ask for anything else."

"There was fighting. We were worried about you," Aukusti said.

"Bah, if you're going to worry about every little thing go deliver it yourself. You can worry where it might do some good. I'll stay here and do you the favor of assuming you know what you are doing and will be just fine without fretting about you."

"I
know
you know what you are doing," Aukusti said, exasperated. "Things
happen
that don't depend on
you
. It could have been dangerous."

"Fine, figure out how much the hazard pay is worth and put it on my account." Jaako agreed.

"So you didn't have any problems?" Aukusti asked.

"
I
didn't have any problems, but it's always something. The idiots over there are all in a tizzy, unsure what they even want. If they keep it up we need to add a
stupid
tax for wasted time on delivery to their dock."

"Just tell me what happened," Aukusti demanded.

"I locked up to the dock, went back through the truck and there was some dimwit in a superhero costume standing at the port com. He's wearing a pair of pistols at the dock like he's some kind of border patrol or customs agent. He tells me they aren't receiving freight today because they're having a
revolution
. I told him that's no concern of mine, revolt all you want, I have twenty cases of produce that will be mulch tomorrow if I don't off-load it. People have to eat even when they're revolting, maybe more so if it's a lot of work.

"He says there probably won't be anybody come and take it to the kitchens, just take it back.

"So I asked his name...

"He got all suspicious, and wants to know why I want his name.

"Because somebody is going to be responsible and pay for the refused goods, probably
you
, I say. Not the fellow laying on the deck with all the holes in him."

"Wait, back up. You didn't say anything about a guy on the deck. Dead I take it?" Aukusti asked.

"I'd assume so, he certainly wasn't moving and this guy didn't seem to be too torn up about it. He didn't have the orange thing on," Jaako said, touching his sleeve, so I figure he's on the other side."

"Which side?" Aukusti demanded. "Rebel or the regular Armstrong guys, the USNA?"

"Well the dead guy had some sort of a uniform on. I mean, it
looked
like a uniform, but without any of the stuff they put on, patches and metal stuff and what do you call it?" he asked drawing a rectangle on his shoulder with his fingers.

"Ah, metals, service ribbons,
fruit salad
," Aukusti supplied.

"Yeah, the orange rag on the vertical guy's arm definitely looked like something improvised, so... rebel I'd guess. I didn't ask. None of my business," Jaako insisted.

"But you said you delivered it," Aukusti remembered.

"Yeah, he said take it back, and he didn't like it, but he told me his name is Porter. I said fine, I'm going to use the toilet there in the coffee room and buy a cup and I'll take the truck back to Central. Well
nothing
was going to make this guy happy. Whatever you wanted to do he just automatically didn't want you to do. So he says I can't go 'wandering around' to use the restroom, just
leave
.

"I told him it's an hour back to Central, I'm not going to make a mess in my truck, so I turned away to some freight they had stacked there and started to unzip. He freaks out like he never had to go where the urge strikes you, and
yells
at me to go use the restroom." Jaako just rolled his eyes.

"Then when I come back, I mean, he's already flip-flopped and changed his mind once, so I ask him if we can't punch the arrival in the dock com and at least
see
if the system is up? Glory be, he agrees to give it a shot. It acknowledged as sweet as can be, just like it's supposed to, and a bot come rolling and loaded everything on a cart.

"I doubt this guy has ever seen a truck unloaded. He seemed to think a whole bunch of people would line up and pass boxes. If it didn't head off to the kitchens I don't know where it went, but I got the confirmation code for delivery, so it don't matter to me if it piled the crap in the corridor somewhere. I did my part," Jaako insisted.

"You did, brother. But he might have got tired of you arguing and
shot
you," Aukusti worried.

"Ha! Can you just imagine what our Lady would do if they start shooting her people for giving them a little lip?" Jaako asked. "They just
think
they had some trouble with the Earthies."

* * *

"Mr. Lewis, I'm Kenji Mishima for Mitsubishi Aerospace," The man was new to Bob, middle aged and well groomed and wearing a very well tailored suit that subtly said Hong Kong instead of London. He was utterly lacking any life extension therapy, Robert could tell at a glance.

"There has been a change in the ownership status of Mitsubishi 3. The North American corporation has been dissolved and its assets transferred to the parent company. It was a wholly owned subsidiary registered in Delaware, so there was little difficulty doing so. Yesterday, the USNA Congress was required by the military government to meet in a late night session and impose a wide range of capital controls we can't accept. The new laws demand the entire income of foreign operations must be funneled through North American banks in dollars, and subject to greatly increased taxation.

"They may decline our filings to dissolve, but there is little they can really do since the real assets are now in translunar orbit beyond their reach. We used a common agent who represented thousands of corporation, so there weren't significant assets in North American accounts, or even a physical office. Our original charter only addressed an intent to build a facility in Low Earth Orbit, so we've been out of line with the original intent for some time now. You'll be getting new documents that reflect the name change and as little as possible will be changed otherwise."

"I suspect they may find other ways to express their displeasure," Robert Lewis said. "I'm sure you must have other North American interests."

"That's one reason we haven't done this sooner. Mitsubishi has other interests and physical assets they may move on, now that we removed our North American ties for M3. The foundations of our North American banking operation are safe at this time. That's not to say they have been immune from the disruptions affecting the country, but moving against our bank operations would hurt
them
at this point. We saw this coming and have positioned ourselves to minimize our loses."

"You were already paying me in Australian dollars on a Private Bank account," Bob pointed out. "How does this affect our relationship?" He thought about it and frowned..."Assuming we still
have
a relationship. Am I still employed or is this a dismissal notice? I've been grappling with the idea of quitting, so if you're firing me it will resolve my indecision for me."