Party Night on Union Station (EarthCent Ambassador Book 10) (19 page)

“It’s the perfect way to reach young women on stations all over the tunnel network without spending a dime on marketing,” the girl continued enthusiastically.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Shaina asked.

“Well, some of them are males, I guess, but even the younger girls will have money to spend because they’re earning it babysitting.”

“Do you think you could talk InstaSitter into it?” Affie asked.

“InstaSitter is Blythe, Chastity and Tinka. I’m friends with all of them.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something else?” Shaina tried again.

“Well, giving samples to all of the InstaSitters could be overexposure,” Dorothy replied. “Maybe Tinka could help us pick a smaller group, like girls who have worked a certain number of assignments, or who have been with InstaSitter a long time.”

“You’re forgetting the cost of the product,” Jeeves thundered, unable to keep it bottled up any longer. “Whether it’s two million or twenty million, who is going to pay to manufacture all of these promotional gifts?”

“Oh. Well, the business side is your job. We just come up with the ideas,” Dorothy responded brightly. “Maybe Libby will loan you the money.”

“To give away,” Jeeves pointed out. “Then instead of one foolish Stryx on Union Station, there will be two.”

“It would come back to us ten-fold!” the girl enthused. “I thought you said you liked doing all that marketing math. This could be our big break.”

“You want me to do the math? Fine. Let’s say we give away lightweight travel cloaks to just one percent of InstaSitters. Thanks to somebody’s insistence on using a metal clasp rather than synthetic material,” Jeeves paused and dipped in Flazint’s direction, “the manufacturing cost is six creds. Figure one percent of InstaSitters comes to around two hundred and ten thousand, so your giveaway, assuming InstaSitter handles the distribution, will cost us over twelve hundred thousand creds.”

“That’s less than a million,” Dorothy said hopefully.

“No, it’s one point two million,” Shaina corrected her.

“But I’ve seen our travel cloaks selling for twenty-four creds in boutiques,” Affie pointed out. “Even if it takes four giveaways to sell one cloak, we’ll break even.”

“No,” Brinda said. “If it takes four giveaways to sell one cloak, we’ll lose six hundred thousand creds, because we sell them to the boutiques for twelve. And you should understand that it’s only the Stryx infrastructure that allows us to ship direct from Chintoo to stores, eliminating middlemen. If you ever do business away from the stations, you’ll find out that wholesalers and distributors take a large cut, not to mention all the extra shipping costs.”

“How many giveaways will it take to sell one cloak?” Dorothy demanded of Jeeves.

“It’s impossible to answer with precision because I don’t have any close comparisons to work off of,” the Stryx hedged. “It’s true that InstaSitters enjoy a certain cachet on the stations, and a travel cloak which might be worn every day over other garments could maximize exposure. Predicting the potential behavior of over two hundred thousand young females from so many different species involves a large number of calculations, and then I have to estimate how the various sentients who see an InstaSitter wearing our cloak will react…”

“Stop delaying, Jeeves,” Dorothy cut him off impatiently.

“One and a half,” the Stryx admitted.

“Does that mean we’ll make a profit?” Affie asked.

Shaina made a restraining gesture with both hands to quiet the younger women who sat to either side of her and addressed Jeeves. “Are you sure you’re taking all of the factors into account?”

“It seems a bit unbelievable, but our branding on the cloak is prominent, and it’s always worn as the outer layer. I wouldn’t recommend marketing lingerie this way.”

“I came up with a good business idea,” Dorothy crowed. “Does that mean I get a raise?”

“Actually, I believe it was my idea,” Jeeves reminded her. “You were simply the first to acknowledge my genius. Does anybody want to hear the conversation played back?”

“I think both of you may want to delay taking credit until the actual sales results are in,” Brinda said. “You’re really, really sure about this, Jeeves? Can you check your math with Gryph or something?”

“It’s a one-off,” the Stryx explained. “After the first giveaway, the effectiveness will diminish to the point of negative returns, but I took the novelty into account while doing my calculations. And I fudged increased sales of our other products into that one-and-a-half number—the cloaks will just about break even. Most of the profits will be due to the InstaSitters who receive a freebie purchasing something else from us.”

“So we’re not fired or anything?” Flazint asked.

“I can’t fire you,” Jeeves told the Frunge girl. “It was in the terms of the first loan I took from—the Thark said what?” he interrupted himself. There was a loud “pop” and the Stryx vanished.

“Did our boss just run away from our meeting?” Affie asked.

“He’s not responding to pings,” Dorothy replied.

“Jeeves only goes supersonic when he’s in a real hurry,” Brinda told them. “I’ll bet he’s off the station by now.”

“Libby? What happened to Jeeves?”

“A prior business commitment,” the station librarian responded. “Don’t worry. I’m sure everything will work out fine.”

Nineteen

A piercing alarm siren began to wail, and a hard lurch caused Kelly to miss the piece of bread with the butter knife, thus spreading a liberal serving of raspberry preserves on her arm. The streak looked more blue than red under the emergency lighting.

“What’s happening, Joe?” she demanded, looking around to make sure that Samuel hadn’t been thrown into a bulkhead.

“I’m guessing it’s either a general power failure or we’ve been hit with some kind of energy suppression field, though it will take quite a while for the ring to spin down.”

“I’m going to the common room to ask,” Samuel announced, and fled before his parents could object.

“Does this sort of thing happen often on space trips?” Hannah asked nervously.

“It’s not unheard of,” Joe reassured her, and rose from his bolted-down chair to go after the boy.

“Wait, we’ll come with you,” Kelly said, and failing to locate the napkins, licked the jam off her forearm. “Ready.”

The three adults followed in the boy’s footsteps to the common room, where most of the crew had gathered around a holographic projection. It showed a close-up of a warship, with a swarm of little figures in bulbous orange spacesuits heading directly towards the camera.

A young Vergallian woman entered immediately after the humans and breathlessly reported, “The captain sent me to say that all communications are being jammed. The vessel that halted us is positively identified as the imperial class destroyer that went missing from the home fleet several weeks ago. They’ve disrupted our power and are demanding that we turn over our passengers. The captain said to prepare to repel boarders.”

“Hold on,” Joe shouted, trying to draw the attention of the Vergallians, who began retrieving weapons from the lockers lining the bulkhead of the common room. He had to grab the purser to get the crewman to listen. “You can’t fight marines in armored spacesuits. Just one of those guys could carve up this ship with his suit weaponry.”

“Vergallians don’t submit to acts of piracy, even if the criminals are from our own navy,” the purser replied curtly.

“Tell them something they’ll listen to, Samuel,” his mother urged. “We can’t let all of these people get killed just to protect their honor.”

“We’ll have to go to the bridge and talk directly with the captain,” the boy said decisively. “Follow me.”

Again the adults found themselves chasing Samuel through the central corridor of the centrifugal ring, and they entered the control room that served as a bridge for the freighter just a few seconds behind him.

“Do not sacrifice your families in a meaningless gesture,” a beautiful woman on the main display was saying as they came in. “You have my word of honor that your passengers will not be harmed.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to stop and board a free Vergallian merchant vessel,” the freighter’s captain replied in an icy tone. “I think you’ll find that we’re worth our salt.”

“Invite us!” Samuel shouted at the screen image in Vergallian. The freighter captain spun about in irritation at the interruption, but the upper caste female on the screen immediately shifted her gaze to the humans.

“I, Aarania, extend a cordial invitation to our human friends to spend one day aboard my ship, after which I will personally see that you are re-embarked on transport direct to Union Station.”

“We accept,” Samuel declared formally, waving off the freighter captain’s pleas. “We await arrival of a craft suitable to the transfer of my mother, the EarthCent Ambassador, and her luggage.”

“Agreed,” Aarania said, and the display image shifted to the outside, where the figures in combat suits were executing U-turns with varying degrees of grace.

“Bunch of amateurs,” the freighter captain grumbled. “I would have shown them a thing or two.”

“We appreciate everything you’ve done for us, Captain,” Kelly said diplomatically. “You have my sincere apology for causing a delay in your schedule.”

“What’s happening?” the purser demanded, pounding onto the bridge in an exoskeleton suit that bristled with weaponry.

“It seems that the boy has denied us our chance at glory,” the captain replied in a wondering voice, as if still coming to grips with the rapid change of fortune.

“Those of us with children on board thank you,” the purser told Samuel. “We are a lightly-armed container vessel, after all, and such a mismatch can only end one way.”

“Looks like she’s sending the captain’s gig,” another of the crew commented, as a large craft emerged from a hangar bay in the destroyer’s side.

“How will they dock with the ring?” Joe asked the purser. “It doesn’t feel like we’ve lost any rotational speed with the power outage.”

“Without power we’re riding on mechanical roller bearings, and barring further interference, the ring takes days to spin down without rocket braking. I imagine the pirates will match our angular acceleration and extend a temporary airlock. That’s well within the capability of any naval craft.”

“Let’s get our bags and meet them,” Joe said to Hannah and his family. “I think it would be best for everybody if none of the destroyer’s crew set foot on this ship.”

After they gathered their belongings, Samuel spent the remaining time assuring the crew that his parents felt deeply honored by their willingness to sacrifice themselves. A short distance away, Kelly was working equally hard to lower Hannah’s expectations.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” the young woman repeated for the third time in a row. “Do you think they’ll let me choose who takes me?”

“They aren’t kidnapping us,” Kelly told her, marveling at how quickly the whole alien lover business had reasserted itself in her new friend’s imagination. “Aarania promised that we’ll be on our way in twenty-four hours, and the upper-caste Vergallians would rather die than break their word.”

“If you say so,” Hannah replied, but she sounded a bit skeptical. If Kelly had to bet on which possible outcome the girl would prefer, her money was on a handsome Vergallian pirate.

The captain’s gig proved to be a utilitarian craft manned by extremely polite Vergallian marines, and the transfer went smoothly. Once aboard the destroyer, a friendly sailor even provided Hannah with a pair of magnetic cleats, after which the humans were immediately escorted to the bridge.

“I am Aarania,” the perfect Vergallian woman in charge introduced herself, though she made no attempt to approach the humans. Then she turned to one of the bridge crew and ordered, “Commence communications blackout. I want no spurious radiation from the ship until this is over. Terminate the power suppression field and execute jump.”

The two events must have taken place almost simultaneously, because Kelly just glimpsed the running lights on the Vergallian freighter that filled the display screen coming back on at full strength, before the unsettling feeling of a faster-than-light jump hit her stomach. The screen came back on faster than she expected, and the captain said, “Again.”

This time, the queasy feeling was even more pronounced, and Kelly had the urge to sit down on the deck. Joe put a comforting arm around her waist to support her, and murmured, “She’s taking evasive maneuvers to prevent tracking.”

“Again,” the captain said as soon as they reentered normal space, and the third jump lasted about the same amount of time as the second.

“You can’t hide from the Stryx,” Samuel blurted in Vergallian.

Joe winced at his son’s choice of conversation starter. The accent was perfect, but the message was confrontational, and probably the last thing some renegade Vergallians wanted to hear. To his surprise, Aarania favored his son with a brilliant smile.

“Not for any amount of time, I’m sure. But our analysis of Stryx interference in the naval affairs of other species indicates that three random jumps are enough to keep them guessing for a while. Again,” she ordered as soon the ship reentered normal space. “And that makes four.”

“But you swore you would only hold us for one day,” Kelly protested when she recovered her balance.

“I will keep my word. I also respect the resourcefulness of your son in helping me defuse an embarrassing stand-off, and I wanted to demonstrate to him the futility of hoping for an equally dramatic rescue during your stay. Where did you get the idea of asking for an invitation, young sir?”

“Scions of the Empire,” Samuel replied, naming an old Vergallian drama series. “I watched all of the episodes last year.”

Aarania nodded solemnly. “Then I suppose it’s too much to ask you to keep out of trouble.” She raised her eyes and addressed the tallest of the marines escorting the humans. “Take them to their quarters and see that they have everything they need.”

“What do you gain by holding onto us for just twenty-four hours?” Kelly asked, as the others turned to leave the bridge.

“That, Madame Ambassador, is a military secret,” Aarania responded.

Joe spent most of the walk to the drop shaft explaining the fine points of shuffling along in magnetic cleats to Hannah, who was just beginning to get a feel for it when the sensation of weight began to return.

“Are we accelerating?” Kelly asked Joe.

“I’d guess only in the spinning sense,” he replied. “These military ships fight in Zero G, but they can spin on their own axis to create varying degrees of weight, not unlike Union Station. Many species require it for health reasons.”

Their escort brought them to one large cabin, the state of which gave the impression that the former inhabitants had vacated in a hurry. On the plus side, it had its own bathroom, and there was even an entertainment system, which Samuel found immediately. Unfortunately, it had been disabled.

“You heard Aarania,” said the member of the bridge crew detailed to remain inside their cabin door to keep an eye on the humans. “Communications blackout includes entertainment systems.”

“How about my toy robot?” Samuel asked, drawing his prized possession from his bag and setting it on the floor. The robot’s eyes glowed green, it threw the guard a salute, and then a few sparks leapt from its casing.

“It’s interfering with the interior suppression field,” the officer shouted, and drawing a weapon, fired on the little robot. There was a blinding flash, and then the toy seemed to sag in on itself, as if something had melted.

“What the hell are you doing firing so close to my wife and son?” Joe yelled, and stepped aggressively towards the officer. The Vergallian thumbed a switch on his weapon and fired at the ambassador’s husband, who dropped to his knees as if he had been caught by a hard uppercut to the jaw. While he tried to shake it off, Samuel pulled his grandfather’s cane from the straps of his bag and leapt forward.

“En garde,” he shouted in Vergallian.

The officer showed his quick reflexes by grabbing the end of the cane with his free hand and yanking it towards him to pull the boy off balance. His poise failed when he found himself holding a hollow wooden sheath and confronted with a long, thin blade.

“That’s for stunning my Dad,” Samuel cried, sticking the point into the officer’s shooting hand. The Vergallian dropped his weapon and grabbed reflexively at the wound, only to find the tip of Samuel’s sword-cane had moved to his throat.

The door slid open, and the marine on the threshold halted in his tracks as he assessed the unexpected situation. He noted the two women struggling to help Joe regain his feet, glanced at the smoking robot, and shook his head in disgust at the officer. After preventing his companion from entering, the marine dragged the officer’s dropped weapon to the door with his foot and picked it up.

“Inform Aarania,” he instructed the marine who remained outside. “I’m staying here to make sure this glory hound doesn’t get lucky and cause more problems.”

“It was their fault,” Samuel’s captive said weakly. “The boy deployed some kind of robot.”

“Just shut up and try not to cut your own throat on his sword,” the marine barked. He shook his head and addressed the humans in an apologetic tone. “Nepotism. He’s a cousin of Aarania’s.”

Joe, who was just beginning to shake the cobwebs from his brain, nodded in sympathy with the professional soldier. A few minutes later, his head had cleared and he started rubbing his knees, thankful that his weight was at most a quarter of its usual measure. If it had happened under normal gravity, he doubted his sixty-year-old kneecaps would have survived.

Aarania showed up a moment later, made her own silent assessment of the situation, and addressed Samuel’s captive. “Congratulations, Cousin. You’ve been taken hostage by an underage Human. Well done.”

“Get him to put down the sword,” the captive pleaded.

“As long as he’s guarding you, you’ve effectively removed him from combat. It appears you are good for something after all.”

“But you declared a communications blackout and he activated that toy robot. I think it was trying to send a distress signal.”

Aarania leaned around the marine and peered at the remains of Samuel’s Libbyland toy. She frowned. Then the lights blinked out, and there was total silence for a second before the emergency battery back-up took over with a clunk of mechanical relays. The beautiful Vergallian spoke into her personal comm but received no response. Then a perfectly circular section of the bulkhead vaporized, and Jeeves appeared in the opening.