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Authors: Mackey Chandler

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"Well of course." He looked offended. "It's a common weapon. The basic design is Israeli, from about 2035 and it has gone through just a few major revisions. This 12mm version was made in the US under license of course. There's a  14.5mm version too. You can feel in the dark and tell the differences. They are so simple and rugged you can beat 'em with a stick and not bust them. I've sat with a sand storm blowing over us for hours and when you needed one of these to start cranking out the rounds they never jam up. Typical IDF stuff - first rate."

Jon gave him his best smile. "And where would this sand storm have been in Illinois, my devious friend?"

"Hey Jon. The information was necessary operational intelligence. We're not gonna trade  friendly war stories. No can do. Lips are sealed," he said with an exaggerated zipping motion across them. "They'd lock me away and send a deaf guy to pass gruel through the bars twice a day, if I blab certain stuff."

"How would you feel about taking this little insurance policy along on your flight? I'd deputize you into our security force and you could feel free to use it if you encountered any pirates, or rabid woodchucks. Think it might be useful?"

"I think I should have let a certain load of beams wipe the rear end off a misplaced space plane and we might not even be having this conversation. Too late now," he sighed. "Only problem I see is if we have trouble with the USNA instead of Chinese. If they should know who I am, they can legally call me back to active military service and I have a real problem if they should want to give me orders. If for any reason you get a communication about my status, call and just tell me I have a letter from my uncle, OK?"

"And what will you do if I use that code phrase?"

"Shut off my radio and if anybody tries to get close enough to tell me I'm a soldier again I'll open up on him with Matilda here."

"Matilda?"

"You hoist her up on your hip and cut loose and you'll understand. You go waltzing around, ain't no rock and roll step" He smiled sincerely.

Margaret wasn't buying it. "Tell me another fantasy lead butt. You cut loose with
this
, you can use it instead of the engine to push you home. Even in a full G you are not going to fire it off hand. What you going to use as a mount  in zero G? It would be kind of obvious to weld a pintle by the main hatch don't you think? Every dock rat who has ever served in the military would be rolling their eyes and making faces at you every time you dock and there would be all sorts of rumors around in no time."

"Well" Easy considered. "Due to the improvisational nature of some of my government work, we occasionally had to fly civilian helicopters or fan platforms and look real tame when we were going in and out of airports. Used lifters with oil company or survey markings. Sometimes even forest service. We'd make up temporary gun mounts from fat C clamps with some plastic pads on the faces to not mar up the airframe too badly. Sometimes we put a piece of plywood under the clamps if the skin seemed too thin to take the recoil. Think you can get one of these shop rats to weld up a similar trick, real quickly?"

They asked Dave for a fabricator and explained what they were making. He said "OK. I have a guy who's a licensed airframe mechanic for those kind of vehicles. He's a Scot they call Red. He's probably already done something much the same."

The fellow who came over was a gnome of a man with dense thick eyebrows and the biggest hands Easy had ever seen. If his hair was ever red it was long ago because it was white as could be. He seemed to scowl a lot, but he wasn't surprised at their request at all. They had the gun sitting on a floor tripod by now and he squatted down and took the grips like he was firing.

"Does this gun have vacuum rated lubricants and bearing surfaces?" he inquired.

"Uh, I just assumed it would if it's in orbit. But I couldn't document it," Margaret admitted. "Would you ask Jon and if need be test it please?"

"OK. We'll take care of it. Now, we'll have a clamp down here, under where the U joint is and the edge of the hatch will be about here," he said holding a pocket scale parallel with the floor. "What is your shell basket like, so I don't have it hang up on the hatch edge when you transverse  right or left?"

"Shell basket?" Easy asked.

"Well, what did you use to catch your empty casings and the plastic pieces from the disintegrating belt, when you used the same sort of setup in an aircraft?" He had a funny bit of a burr to his voice, which tended to add an odd lilting emphasis to the syllables in the longer words.

"They just flew everywhere and sometimes we ended up ankle deep in them by the time we were done shooting. Half of them seemed to go inside my collar and burn the crap out of me."

"God preserve blind fools and Englishmen," the fellow muttered with a shake of his head, "It's a wonder you never sucked a few flying out the open hatch into your engine and brought yourself down. Even if you don't have an engine intake on this boat, are you going to leave a bloody cloud of brass hanging there in an orbit for some poor fellow to run into? You aren't the sort of Ugly Charlie who just throws his chip papers out the window of your ground car when you're done with your snack, are you?"

"Oh no. Not at all. I can see the value of a basket. Please, could you include a cartridge catcher in your work up so we can be, uh, tidy?"

"Sure, it would be my pleasure." The gruff fellow assured him, happy with him again, "I'll have it done before the Saturday shift comes on," and hurried off to the machine shop.

"I feel like a schoolboy, scolded by the Principal for littering." Easy said.

"I think it's kind of cute." Margaret said smiling. "I think where he's from they'd call them a Headmaster. Notice he doesn't care if you are going to riddle someone else's multibillion dollar space craft with a couple hundred holes, but he wants you to be as neat as possible about it."

Ruby had finished her inspection and found the shop coffee without difficulty and sat sipping a foam cup. She had the sense to stay out of the way. April sensed things were gelling pretty well and approached her. "I think we're about wrapped up. We'll have Jeff's generators plugged in tomorrow and be ready to go."

"They still trying to cut you out?"

"Jon is," April admitted checking over her shoulder.

"I knew you were flying it, clear back when you asked about Easy helping. Man should have asked me. I'd have saved him a bunch of anguish fighting it." She was looking the ship over while she talked. "It's so small, that surprised me," Ruby said.

"Really? I hadn't thought of it as small."

"Yeah the cabin is as small as a van like we'd rent to drive around on vacation down below. And the whole thing is as small as a van pulling a travel trailer. You could put the whole thing in a semi-truck they use Dirtside to deliver stuff to stores. I flew on planes you could drive a big truck like that on board and take the whole thing where it was needed and never have to transfer the load. Drive on - drive off. What are you going to call her?"

"Well, it has a factory hull number. It probably had a short company number too, but it's gone now."

"No. A number is not enough," Ruby told her. "It's a ship now. Even the planes we flew were all named by the crews. The shuttles and space planes are all named. They may have a tail number now, but they're still named. You check with the crew and the controllers and you'll find out the company may say we've scheduled flight 47, in Boeing D body 1437. But the flight crew would say we're lifting the Ellen Ochoa to M3. Pick a good name for her April."

"I think I'd like to name her after my grandfather."

"The Robert Lewis? Sounds good. Not a big mouthful like some of the Russian boats."

"No. Nobody would know who it honored. They might think it was my brother," she said, with a distaste Ruby ignored but would remember. "No, I meant we'd name her the
Happy Lewis
. Do you think I should consult with my brother?"

Ruby snorted through her nose. "He'd want to name her Unending Prosperity or something and they'd all think she was a Chinese boat. Go with your instincts and tell him you didn't think it would matter to him. He'd look terribly petty to argue about it being named after his own grandfather."

April went to look up the shop foreman and have it painted on.

Chapter 20

Justine could see the suspicion written on the man's face. He couldn't blame him at all. He'd be cautious under the same circumstances. He'd stopped at the first decent coffee shop when he reached ISSII and sat and called home to find out who ran this territory. His brother had been at his cabin fishing for the weekend and he didn't take a phone out on the boat with him. Saturday was a bad day to find people who had hobbies. He had to speak with several underlings before he found a soldier, who could make a few calls and ask the local family to come and meet them. He wanted them to be aware of his people and get permission before he just moved in like he was at home.

"Honest friend, he's not any business, just my nipote. In fact it's kind of an embarrassment in the family. He's actually with security on M3. He's almost a cop. But you have to watch out for family if they haven't done anything to shame you and he is an honorable kid. A real straight shooter. Don't you have a soft spot for your nephews? I'll send my people off to the hotel and you and your boys can take me alone, to just have a word with him. I'll just hand him back a Visa card he should have and we'll stay out of your hair. No business while we're here at ISSII at all, just a little vacation," he promised.

The man Eddie would have recognized as his waiter nodded reluctantly. "Yeah. I really do understand. The couple he's staying with, the Agapitos, are family too. They got all involved in this nano business. I never understand half of what they're talking about, but they make money hand over fist being 100% legit and they still have respect for the family, so we keep an eye on them just like you do yours. Let's go see them and you can give him his stuff."

"Nolan, take Mr. Persico's people to the hotel, the better one, The Cottage and make them at home. They want anything, they want to go anywhere, they're our guests, understand? No worry about who they talk to, or arguing about any of their personal equipment," he said looking pointedly at the cello case. "They're under our protection. And tell Harold too. The manager is an associate," he explained to Justine.

"You are most gracious. I thank you for your hospitality," Justine said inclining his head. "I hope I have opportunity to return the favor someday."

"Yeah? Thanks. I don't get much chance to get down anymore. Once in awhile I get to go home, I'm from Bataan," he said pronouncing it with three syllables, "but unless you go way out on the small islands it isn't the same anymore. You can look out the window and it might as easily be Florida. They've kind of ruined it down there as far as I'm concerned."

"It isn't just your homeland friend. I don't know anybody who's thrilled with what Earth has become, anywhere you go. It's becoming all the same. Why does there have to be a McDonald's in every town in Tahiti and Kenya? Don't any of them value their own culture anymore?"

The big Filipino nodded in surprised agreement.

* * *

Eddie sat at the table with the Agapitos and his uncle Justine. The beefy Filipino he immediately recognized as his waiter. Then they introduced him as the Agapitos' cousin John. Justine's story about Ernie winning the Big Shot was hilarious. He was a natural story teller and when he got to the punch line everybody just roared. Eddie just held the Visa in both hands looking at it with wonder.

"Pull the tab off and hold your finger over the taster," His uncle urged him. "No sense leaving access to that kind of money unlocked."

"So," John picked up the conversation, while he did that, "most people who get a chunk of money like this quit their job and retire. I hope you know, a lot of them end up broke and starting over in just a few years."

"I've seen stories about lotto winners. A lot of them can't handle it. Some think they can buy every expensive toy they want and have no idea owning a big yacht for example, is more about what it costs every year to run it, than the purchase price. A lot of them get stung on investments too. Even those who try to go to a legitimate brokerage house, but give them discretionary powers. I'm happy doing what I am. I'm also in the good position of not having my coworkers know I hit it big. So I won't be like some who might have tried to keep working, but the jealousy and friction with their workmates made them quit to get away from it."

"So you'll stay where you are and try to keep your job?" John asked.

"Sure. I'll try. I like my boss. I like living on M3. I may buy a few new pieces of furniture or a new suit, but mostly I'll invest this and keep it for the future. The same folks who developed the Rock are talking about bringing a big snowball back and mining the volatiles. I think I'll buy a piece of that new project, if I can talk to them and get in." He thought of something else. "Justin could you have your banker friend open another account and give my friend Ernie a card in his own name for two million Euro from what you left him and tell him it's for his services and I appreciate his work. Then you keep the balance for all the trouble you've gone to for me. I know it was for family, but you've spent a lot out of your pocket and you can give your people a little bonus if you want."

"You sure about Ernie? I've seen guys like him before. In a year he won't have a bit of it left. Seems like a waste."

"I give him a couple months actually. He will either be fabulously wealthy or broke before the year is done. But I'm giving him a shot at it."

"You might consider talking to the Agapitos and asking them to keep you in mind if they start any new ventures." His uncle suggested. "They are very well thought of in their profession I'm told and they don't suffer some of the exposure which comes with being unprotected others might suffer." He explained it by looking pointedly at John.

"Funny you should bring it up." Ton Agapito said. "We have been talking with the Drs. Singh and they suggest some of the new theory she has formed will be implemented in a practical way using nano. She indicated the thing I wondered about, the importance of meeting his son, was he is rather an unusual boy. Very advanced for his age and he also is already a practical expert, in the application of nanofabricating. We've been invited to join them later, by more conventional transport than yours and spend some time helping develop the devices, to express the findings of her research. Would you like to meet with us when we come there and see if the proposals seem worthy of your financial support?"

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