Spinward Fringe Broadcast 7: Framework (6 page)

"I prefer to look at it another way. Both
sides of humanity still had hope. The majority hoped they could
find or make a place that was like the one they left, much like
this.” Liam gestured broadly, taking in the ocean and beach. The
sound of the waves lapping up against the shore was all anyone
could hear until he went on. “Those that remained on Earth to
rebuild had a special kind of hope. That is the hope that leads us
through the darkness even after we have lost friends, loved ones,
have seen terrible violence and waste. In reflection, I couldn't
help but compare our situation to The Departure. So many have fled,
much like Samuel. After leaving the Triton behind, our old
crewmates either sought new opportunities or could not stay because
the memories would not rest while they were surrounded by the
people who shared their experiences. We must not blame them for
their departures. Everyone within the reach of my voice has decided
to remain because you see hope where your fellows did not. Whether
that hope is perceived as security in numbers, the power of
camaraderie, or the warmth of love and friendship, it is hope
nonetheless. We do ourselves and those that could not survive to
see this dawn credit by holding on to that hope. We honour them by
building a place in the galaxy for ourselves. It is thanks to their
sacrifice that we stand here, and we should celebrate as though
they stand right beside us. We commit their remains to the waters,
and celebrate the dawn in their presence.”

Hundreds of crewmembers tilted their urns.
The quiet hiss of ashes pouring from hundreds of vessels was a
sound Ayan would never forget. It was unlike anything she'd ever
heard, and with all her heart she hoped she'd never hear it again.
Beside her, Oz poured the remains of one of the enemy leaders,
Major Harold Cumberland. No one claimed his body, so the Carthan
Government gave them the option of letting them dispose of it, or
giving the ashes to the Triton crew. Oz claimed them.

Beside him was Paula, who poured the ashes
of Deck Chief Angelo Vercelli. Liam Grady was on Ayan's right, and
he poured Alice Valent's ashes since Jacob, the rest of the Samson
crew, and many others couldn't attend. The urns themselves turned
to sand when they were empty, leaving them with a small metal
placard as a memento.

Liam Grady broke the mournful silence that
followed. “In a well known transmission to Samuel, long after the
departure, long after he'd made his home in New Udalpur, he tells
his brother, 'Earth is remembered. You are remembered. Hope is
remembered.' As their bond could not be broken, your bond with
those who have gone cannot be broken. Now let us watch this fresh
dawn for a moment before we take some time to be with each
other.”

It was the perfect service. Ayan wouldn't
say it aloud, but she felt lucky. She lent her shoulder to many
people she didn't know, heard stories about crewmembers she didn't
have a chance to know well, or at all. She didn't carry the burden
that everyone else did. The urn she carried through the service
contained the ashes of three people who couldn't be identified.
Everyone suspected they were liberated slaves who made it aboard,
but were never properly registered. They were probably right. Their
deaths were sad, but she couldn't help but feel fortunate that she
wasn't committing the remains of someone near and dear to her. That
luck came with its own measure of guilt. She tried her best to put
it aside.

The service was overdue, and it was a great
help to everyone in attendance. She wished Jacob could have been
there. It had been a week since she'd seen him. Since they were
forced away from the Triton, it was difficult to find time alone
together. She suspected that many of the mourners, especially the
ones who had been aboard the longest, were also lamenting the loss
of that ship. When she let herself think of the Triton, she
lamented the loss of opportunity, freedom, security, and
organisation.

That was the last time she wore a Triton
uniform. She went back to the loose skirted, scoop necked maxi
dress design she’d discovered in the vacsuit shape database during
her early days on the Triton. The texture was what convinced people
it was a normal garment, made to imitate high thread count stretch
cotton, an expensive fabric on most worlds. During negotiations,
she dressed in pastel blue, green and white – the most disarming
colours. It provided the same protection a basic combat vacsuit
did, but it looked nothing like one.

Laura dressed in the same fashion, only
opting for a tighter fitting version. Jason had taken to wearing a
white long coat over his uniform, while Liam Grady opted for his
long robes. The old-fashioned blue cloth robes almost hid his black
vacsuit.

As Ayan stood at that window, recalling the
service, the irritation at it taking so long for the Carthans to
turn over the remains of the crewmembers killed aboard the Triton
must have resurfaced. She was equally galled by the Carthans'
release of their accumulated captives aboard the Triton. The news
that the slave master, Doctor Thurge, Burke, and a few malcontents
were sent into the wild was delivered as a sidenote with the
delivery of their cremated dead. Ayan felt she and her people had
been tread on; it was impossible to shake.

Liam Grady’s warm hand rested on her bare
skin, where the cutout in the back of her dress left her skin
exposed. It was generous comfort, but she made an effort not to
take solace in it. “Six weeks,” she muttered as she wiped a tear
away.

The droning of Percy the negotiator behind
her stopped. “Pardon?” He asked politely.

“It's been six weeks and one day since we
left our ship,” Ayan said. She patted Liam’s arm and he withdrew it
gracefully. It was easier to find her anger and impatience without
his touch. “You conducted a full forensic investigation, presented
us with whatever personal items were left and a cargo container
filled with urns.”

Percy, the negotiator drone, regarded her
with earnest surprise. He straightened in his seat. “I'm sorry,
Commander. I didn't have anything to do with how that was
handled.”

“That's just it. We're being handled. We
keep dancing back and forth in negotiations. I keep asking for what
my people think they deserve while you keep short-changing us and
citing provisions of galactic laws that only marginally apply
here.”

“Might I remind you that part of our
negotiations are for a ship you technically don't own. The Triton
is a stolen-”

“Right,” Ayan cut him short. “Screw the
Triton. Screw the claim that was legitimised by the
Aucharians.”

“That claim can’t be verified, their
government has collapsed and is still in a state of cris-“

“I know!” Ayan burst. “For the hundredth
bloody time, I know!” She took a breath and went on.

“Port law,” the negotiator said, red faced,
“states simply, ‘If her rightful owner doesn't claim her in five
years, the first claimant can pay her docking and repair fees then
the ship defaults to the most suitable claimant’ and that’s Lucius
Wheeler, then you, Commander. You should take comfort in that, it’s
a generous ruling because we don’t see any command codes, and the
Carthan War Act gives us the option of using the ship ourselves for
those five years. That is, unless you provide command codes.”

Ayan felt like her blood was boiling; his
repetition of the law was making her angrier by the second. "Fine,”
she spat through clenched teeth. Ayan took a breath and continued.
“Since we're the second claimants in line we'll deal with that when
the time comes. For the time being, let's move these negotiations
to their logical conclusion, shall we?" Ayan stated bitterly. She
brought up the boardwalk they'd had the funeral service on and sent
the image to the map on the table. "I want that land, I'll pass on
your offer for the weaponry aboard Enforcer Eleven Oh Nine, take
fourty three million Galactic Currency for what's left of it, and
you'll give us a five percent increase on any captured food,
essential technology or building materials we bring you.”

"Ayan, are you sure about this?" Jason asked
urgently. "We've gained a lot of ground over the last six weeks.
The contract we've negotiated so far is worth more than currency
and land: a say in politics for this hemisphere, orbital dock
privileges, departure arrangements for anyone leaving the crew, not
to mention rights to emergency aid."

"Land ownership will get us the rights we
need to influence what goes on nearby, and we won't need emergency
aid if we can afford to feed ourselves. They're buying time because
they don't want to, or have the cash to pay us fairly. Everyone in
this room knows that," Ayan retorted. "To put faith in this
negotiation process is to let them set the time table, and we can't
afford that."

“Your colleague brings up a few good points.
What will you do with departing crewmembers and workers if there
are no arrangements for them to join the Carthan work force or
leave the solar system?” Percy asked.

“If they're so hot to leave, they can pay
their own way off-world with what they earn while they're working
for us. Let me finish giving you my demands,” Ayan said forcefully,
clearly. “The land you give us will be a full grant of property and
sovereignty. I know you've given parcels of land away to other
settling crews, so that shouldn't be a problem. Aside from that,
you'll provide us with an unregulated communications band to
operate on in your space, permanent passes for Navnet, clearance to
make our own recognised local idents and the Carthan government
will pardon everyone under my command of all crimes, no questions
asked.” Ayan brought up the legal documents that Jason had prepared
over the past six weeks. They were a comprehensive defence of Jacob
Valance and a petition to rescind the order to detain his crew for
questioning. There was also a land grant application with as many
useful options selected as possible, and their claim as an
independent government. "The Carthan government will ratify this
document without amending it. You'll also extend your legal
protection to the Samson crew, so they cannot be captured in your
space or allied territory."

Percy began to skim through the document's
preamble.

"It hasn't changed since we presented it to
your team four days ago," Jason said wearily.

The negotiator inhaled sharply and started
to shake his head. "Sovereignty isn't on the table. Neither is
signing a document that backs a terrorist."

“You lend Jake Valance your support or the
entire Carthan government looks like a pack of idiots when the
petition for dismissal my legal people transmitted last week
hits.”

“Petition for dismissal?” asked Percy.
"Something like this has been transmitted outside of these
negotiations?"

Ayan flicked her finger across her
transparent blue bracelet and another petition appeared above the
table. “It states that Jonas Valent and Jacob Valance are two
separate entities, citing years worth of evidence including a death
record from the Triton that your government just certified when
they wrapped up their forensic analysis of her logs. The Galactic
courts, Order of Eden, and Regent Galactic have no case against
Jacob, and in a few days' time, it'll be interstellar news. Now,
how is it going to look if the Carthan government didn't back him
while he was in their space? Everyone is watching this solar
system. Even Hart News has a ship here, and I'm sure they'd love to
cover every end of our falling out with the Carthan
government.”

“If we pardon him, the land grant gets
pushed off the table completely, never mind sovereignty.”

Ayan's short laughter came almost as a bark.
She strode for the door. Her feet were moving in that direction
before she realised it, but by the time she was half way out of the
room she was fully committed to leaving for good.

“Where are you going?” Percy asked,
alarmed.

“To open up talks with another government
and get my people ready to leave. The British Union already has
laws that will protect Jacob Valance and I hear they're on their
way here. When the charges against Valance are dismissed, everyone
who has suffered damage from the Order of Eden will want him.
Unlike you lot, I'm smart enough to make sure that I'm standing
right beside him when that happens.” Jason, Laura, and Liam all
started to leave as well.

“All right! But I can only give you the
dockside, not the adjacent land. There's an island offshore with a
moderate tropical climate, your people can build a settlement
there." Percy replied hurriedly. "A sizeable settlement. We were
going to start a new batch of land grants on Tamber next month, and
those are the premium lots."

Ayan stopped and made eye contact with Liam,
who wore a slightly surprised smile. That expression slowly changed
into a look of approval. She looked back to Percy, who was
hurriedly bringing up a holographic image of an island with a cliff
face on one side, dense jungle in the higher, central regions, and
gently sloped white dunes on the other side. She knew it well. When
Jason put it on the list of requested parcels on their land grant
application, she argued with him about reaching too far. It would
be large enough to build permanent settlements for many times their
number. "No one has a claim to this island?" she asked with an
upturned eyebrow as she read the details listed on the
tabletop.

"No one, but we won’t allow anything but
zero emissions craft and power provisioning near it for the time
being. You're going to have to build your own infrastructure and
obey all environmental laws,” Percy explained. It looked as though
he was fighting to keep his job. Something about her party leaving
the room without a resolution had rattled him.

“Who owned it before?” Liam Grady asked.

"It was a wilderness development project,
only scientists and agricultural experts lived there and most of
them are dead or gone. It belongs to the government, and we're
willing to give it to you in trade for forty two percent of the
value of the Enforcer eleven-oh-nine and mechanical fixtures. That
leaves a little over eighteen million in Galactic Currency, which
we can deliver in two days."