They Also Serve (25 page)

"Where'd you come from?" Jeff asked, knowing it was a stupid question but needing time to adjust to what was happening way too fast for his brain to track.

"I was in the men's room when your vandals clomped through. You failed to check the rest room on this level." Millard's tone was the one he reserved for the maid who missed a large dust ball, a servant with a spotted salad fork.

"I'll mention that in my postmission critique," Mary answered dryly.

Jeff took a step forward. "Millard, these people really need that stuff. We'll all be better off if they take it."

"Young Jeffrey, you have again joined the losing side. Your sister will own these people before noon tomorrow."

"Millard, the old ways aren't going to work this time," Jeff said, edging another step forward.

"Do not assume I will not shoot you." Millard lowered his aim-slightly. "I can render your kneecaps worthless."

Jeff took a step back; the pistol's aim rose again. Glass shattered. A single round smashed into Millard's temple, snapping his head sideways, scattering blood and bone. As the butler fell, his gun popped as fast as a clamped finger could shoot it. Pellets stitched a line past Jeffs ear.

A moment later, Heave grinned through the window. "Know you didn't want any dead civvies, Captain, but I figured you'd make an exception for that one. Sleepy bullets don't do windows."

"Right." Mary nudged Jeff, moving him away from the butler's sprawled body. To Jeff, Millard had been invincible. No one beat him in the exercise yard. No one bested him on the pistol range. It hadn't been a fair fight. Now he understood Dumont's offhanded remarks. "Only fools fight fair when there's a gun out." Swallowing hard, Jeff double-timed for the blimp.

He was learning what it meant to travel with these people. Hard lessons. He settled into his seat as the blimp lifted, riding the wind backward into a turn away from the lights of the big house. A few air rifles popped off; Jeff didn't even flinch.

They'd gotten what they came for, and Vicky had gotten a well-deserved lesson. Unless ... Millard's words came back. How could Vicky own these people by noon tomorrow? "Mary," Jeff called, "we better tell the Colonel what Millard said."

"Already did."

Ray followed the action on net. He didn't relax until Mary's team was back in the air. Vicky's new claim was a puzzle.

"Colonel, you want to listen in on Miss V's call to Ms. San Paulo?" Lek came on net to ask.

"Patch us in," Ray said. "Add Chief Barber."

"Hen, do you know what those people just did to me? Do you know?" Vicky was screaming even as the visual came up.

"No, Vicky, but I'm sure you'll tell me." The Chair of the Great Circle blinked drowsily. "Vicky, it's one in the morning. I was finally getting to sleep a night through."

Vicky was already in full flight. "They robbed me. They stole my property. Made off with it in one of those blimps you're letting them have for free. Free, woman!"

"What is it you're missing? And are you sure it was them?"

"Who else could it be? Who would have the gall to break into Fairview and make off with my central workstations and every archives disk I own? I ask you, who?"

Hen raised an eyebrow. "People have been pretty strange lately. A few might not be happy with you. Including a blimp crew or two with family in the towns your out-of-work employees rampaged through."

"Bosh"—Vicky waved her hand as if to swat a fly—"no one would dare. No one has ever dared touch a Sterling's property. They not only stole the family archives but killed my chief butler, Millard. I tell you, no one on Santa Maria would harm him. No one could. It had to be the star people."

"You'll need a bit more evidence than that in court."

"Not in one of mine. They committed their crimes on my land. They face one of my judges. Speaking of which, have you checked the land those stupid starfolk rented for their base?"

"No." San Paulo's brows were down now. The Sterling woman had her full attention.

"Those copper-grabbing dirt farmers and their free land platform. Hen, you really should put more tax collectors out in the hinterland. Not one plot in the Hazel Dell township was properly registered and paid for. Not before this afternoon. I bought them all. The star people's base is on my property, and they can get their fat asses off it."

Henrietta took a deep breath at that one. "Victoria, we've been around and around the circles on that one. The farmers refuse to pay for land that no one is using."

"Yes," Vicky cut in, "but they want us to expand the canals so they can get their goods to market cheap. That's not cheap."

"Neither are the tariffs your towboat companies charge."

"If they don't want to pay, they can always haul produce in their little wagons," Vicky snapped.

"You'd really tell an entire town to get off land you bought out from under them?"

"And the starbase. Oh, they can stay if they'll pay my rent. What rent do you think I should charge for the land the biggest factory on this planet is squatting on? How much, Hen?"

"I'm sure you'll think of a lot," San Paulo said. "If you don't mind, I'd like to get some sleep. Good night, Vicky."

"We'll talk more tomorrow. They stole my property."

The screen went blank. Chief Barber rushed into Ray's office. "Our locals don't own the land they rented us!"

"Looks that way," Ray said.

"Damn, never thought to check. Can't believe I made that basic a goof."

"When everyone in town says they own it, you assume they do. I think we just hit another little local secret." Ray tapped his commlink. "Jeff."

"Yessir," came so fast the young man must have been waiting.

"Do the farmers and the city folks have a tiny disagreement about how you buy or otherwise acquire farmland?"

"Oh, damn, is that what Vicky's up to?"

"Fill me in fast. I'm expecting another call."

"About sixty years back, the Sterlings pushed through a law making all land the property of the central circle in Refuge. Income from the sale of the land was supposed to pay for infrastructure improvements, dams, power generation, canals. There was major refusal in the farmlands. They called it local nullification. For several months the farms refused to sell food. City folk finally backed off."

"So the law was repealed."

"Not exactly. That would be too embarrassing. Everyone just agreed to ignore it."

"Interesting approach to law you have around here. So because Vicky bought the land we're on, we have to face one of her judges to decide who owns it?"

"Depends on whether she bought it or had Richland buy it."

"Sir"—a yeoman stuck his head in Ray's office—"an urgent call from Ms. San Paulo."

"Put her through. Jeff, I want you at the HQ as soon as you land." Ray hit his commlink, then hit it again. "Good morning, Ms. San Paulo. Didn't expect to hear from you," he said, grinning. "Rose is doing well. Her headaches seem to be gone."

"Good, but, ah, Mr. Ambassador, you have made a very bad enemy in Vicky Sterling. Did you steal her archives tonight?"

"We don't have any of her archives here at the base," Ray evaded carefully.

"Good, because you're about to get a visit from one of her bailiffs." Quickly Hen filled Ray in on the call he'd watched.

"Who does own the land our local village farms?" Ray asked.

Hen shrugged and looked away. "They should," she evaded. "No one but Vicky would question that they do, but she's a law unto herself at times. I checked the public land records right after she called. This morning Richland purchased the Hazel Dell township—for expansion, they said— and has already zoned it for residential multifamily dwellings. Seems like a long commute to work."

"So we either go along with her, or we're lawbreakers. Damned if we do, and damned if we don't."

"Yes."

"Do you know a lawyer we can talk to about this?"

"A law-yer?" Hen struggled with the word.

"Yes, someone who specializes in arguing the law."

"I don't think we have any."

"You don't." Ray felt suddenly very tired.

"If you and someone else have a legal problem, you take it to an elected judge and you argue it yourself."

"And if someone kills you?"

"Your family and security group argue against the killer."

Ray rubbed his temples. He was getting a headache, and the Teacher had nothing to do with this one. "You have laws, but no one pays any attention to them, and no one specializes in helping you figure out where you stand under them," he said, praying she'd correct him.

"I guess that's how it must look to you. We just haven't had much need for them."

"Sixty years ago the farmers quit delivering food because of this law." Barber's sarcasm was heavy as the night.

"But it was all straightened out."

"Is there anyone who takes an interest in these laws that everyone ignores?" Ignored until a few days ago.

"No one, really. Any old-timer can tell you about the people's history."

"Guess I'd better find one." Ray was about to hang up when Barber waved his hand. "You got something, Chief?"

"We've started giving out our credit cards," he said as if butterflies might melt in his mouth. "The system is working nicely. Mary would hate to have someone hurt by what we're doing. I was wondering this afternoon if we shouldn't get some formal recognition of our system. Is there any chance you might have the circle formally recognize the credit cards' accounting system as legal tender, backed up by copper?"

"You're backing it with copper?" Hen's eyes were wide open, no matter what time it was.

"Yes. It's not quite the same as holding a copper coin, but we intend to make it just as reliable."

"Well, yes. When could you have me your draft language, and how soon do you want it done?"

"I worked up some already, Ms. San Paulo, and it would be nice if the circle could do this tomorrow morning."

"Before noon," Hen said, only half swallowing a smile. "Before Vicky's visitor arrives."

"The sooner we protect these fine people, the better," he said with the straightest face Ray had ever seen on a Cheshire cat, canary in hand. The chief sent the file; Hen rung off.

Ray turned to Barber. "What did we just do?"

"You said we needed a real financial system for this place. We just took a small step toward it."

"Right." Ray tried to snarl, but too much smile was showing. "Talk to me, you old spacer."

"Blimp's on final approach," the duty yeoman called. "We'll talk on the drive to the field," the chief answered.

By the time Jeff stumbled into the inn, light was already coloring the east. He'd helped unload the blimp, then explained to a lot of very incredulous starfolk that just because a law was on the books didn't mean anyone paid attention to it. After all, once the community had gone through the pain and hassle of passing a law, then nullifying it by popular rejection, who wanted to go over it again in circle? The Colonel and Mary didn't seem to grasp his point, but at least they accepted it. When he'd suggested that the old priest was probably the best local expert on social issues, Ray's eyes lit up and Jeff had been offered a ride into town.

Exhausted, but too excited to sleep, Jeff collapsed onto a chair in the Public Room. He might have dozed; it took him a while to note the lack of service. Puzzled, he wandered around the main room, found nothing, and invaded the kitchen. It was empty; the stove was cold. There was a note.

Jeff read it, then raced up the stairs to pound on his host's bedroom door. When Mrs. Mulroney finally opened it, Jeff jammed the note in her befuddled face. "I found this." Color drained from the woman as she read then held the note out to her husband. He lay in bed, still in the clothes he'd worn to get his still.

He read the note. "Oh, sweet Mother of God."

"What do they think they're doing?" Jeff demanded. "The spacefolk and all their gear can't find the damn vanishing box. What makes them think they can?"

The two exchanged a glance. "We know some of the folks that don't agree with your sis," the man muttered.

"The ones that have the box?"

"Who knows?" the woman answered. "There are people, and there are people. And what I might have thought they'd do last month is not what I think they could do tomorrow. Annie and Nikki have been to meetings with us. They know who to talk to in the next village, and those people will pass them along."

"Maybe they can find the box," the father said. "As you pointed out, the starfolk are
finding nothing."

"I've got to find Annie. I can't let her wander around the roads with things the way they are." The two shook their heads. "Tell me, or I'll make you both wish you had."

The man stepped in front of his wife. "It's not that we can't tell you. It's that you'd be a fool, chasing after them with your Sterling face. If you want to follow them, we will help, but not that way."

The words didn't often come from a Sterling's mouth, but for Annie, Jeff got his lips around them. "Help me."