April 3: The Middle of Nowhere

by Mackey Chandler

  "That is – unfortunate," Zhang allowed. "These are inspirational slogans common to the elite of special forces and usually tattooed with other images of unit banners and badges. Yes, I see the edge of one there. May I ask how we come to be in possession of these?"

  "Traffic control noted an object slowly drifting away from the station large enough to be a hazard to navigation. When a scooter was dispatched to collect it they were surprised to find a corpse in a rescue ball. The discoloration is due to exposure to direct sunlight and the fact the pressure had bled off somewhat," he explained.

  "Rescue balls are only designed to hold breathable pressure for a few hours unless the person inside releases oxygen from the small canister attached to the inside. This person had been in the ball for something like six hours and was in no condition to activate the canister when he was put in the ball."

  "You mean he was deceased when he was inserted?" Zhang inquired, surprised.

  "It certainly looks that way. The ball was undamaged but he had three rounds to the heart and lungs of a large caliber pistol with frangible ammunition, an ordinary kitchen knife jammed to the hilt through a kidney and visible burn marks about his head and shoulders that indicate electrocution too."

  "Was he in our uniform?" Zhang asked both sickened and alarmed, but hid it from his face this time.

  "No, he was in European civilian clothing and oddly his hair and upper body were stained with coffee. The knife was Swiss. Does any of this make sense to you?"

  "Not at all. But with those tattoos I can assure you he is ours. If you would acquire custody of him I will run his identifying characteristics through the military system and find out to whom he should be returned. Undoubtedly he had comrades and family who would want to know."

  The supervisor just looked a question at the foreigner and he gave a nod of agreement. So he spoke Chinese well enough to have followed their exchange.

  "That is all then. The fellow will be repatriated with our medical section in a few hours so you can conduct your inquiry," and they left without another word.

  It was bizarre. He knew no special forces were present on ISSII. He'd be notified if one was even passing through to another destination.

  Chapter 9

  The letter from Adzusa was unexpected. April hadn't gotten an actual hard copy letter in a year. It was odd to think that it was probably more secure now than most electronic communications. The more so the way Adzusa sent it.

  Jeff called her on com the very morning she received the package and informed her Adzusa had given him a voice call and after some uncharacteristic chatter, asked him to tell her to look carefully through the packing in a gift she sent because she had lost an earring and it might have dropped in the box or gotten crumpled in the packing. Neither one of them believed that. It was pretty safe to tell them since the package was already on Home and pretty hard to intercept unless their two long-time FedEx guys were corrupt.

  While she had him on com, April asked Jeff to help her narrow down what he wanted her to know about economics. She pointed out the myriad schools of thought both classic and modern and told him if she studied everything available on the subject she could easily spend a decade and only have an overview.

  Jeff suggested there were only two real schools of thought. Those who wanted the economy to be free to do what it wanted organically. Free to take a course that was the sum of individuals' decisions in the marketplace and those who wanted the government to regulate it. He asserted the degree of intervention was unimportant, because any intervention always progressed to full central planning as it failed to produce the desired results and more intervention was promoted as the cure.

  "Other than that, I'd suggest you study the history of economics. When there were booms and busts and as much as you can see why they occurred. Sometimes reading old newspapers tells you more than the official propaganda. If you read the government agency statements there is a solid disconnect from what the job ads and prices in the papers tell you was happening."

  The package arrived after lunch and was a traditional tea set. The markings said it came from Singapore via Tonga. When she examined the packing, however, the paper was a letter written out by hand on the big sheets of rice paper balled protectively around each cup. It detailed how her neighbor and Adzusa foiled an attempted invasion of her home by a Chinese team. She owed them for that. April could not figure what they hoped to accomplish by that at first, then she thought about the timing and realized they may have thought she was hiding out there when she was actually at sea on Papa-san's boat, but the attack in the cafeteria said they must know better now.

  She also said she would send news of Papa-san when she had it and not to believe everything she heard in the news. That didn't surprise her at all. Gunny would be interested.

  Leave it to Adzusa, the tea set could have been any expedient, but it was very nice too.

  * * *

  Some of Bob's companies April knew about. She'd helped him start a few. She had no real excuse to put off getting into the folders. The papers she spread out and started reading revealed he owned or kept an interest in some of which she'd never been aware. The meal delivery service, the company to buy the clothing of tourists rather than ship them back to Earth, she knew. There was a company that imported small gifts and chocolates for the absent-minded who suddenly remembered tomorrow was a birthday or anniversary and had no time to schedule a delivery from Earth. She knew of that but hadn't helped with it.

  That company had started importing a limited selection of liquor and champagne as soon as shipping resumed after the war. It sold by delivery to your door only with no expensive retail store. The only bar in the habitat was the one in the beam-dog's cafeteria to sell liquor by the glass with no bottle sales. The closest liquor store she knew of was on New Las Vegas where the tourist trade was the main business. She briefly wondered if the new ship's chandlery would carry spirits? She never imagined she'd be in competition with Zack for any business.

  The ill fated mushroom growing business had closed under order from Environmental, but there was a small service supplying cut flowers and potted plants that used ingenious ways to cheaply acquire both soil and pots as part of other commercial orders lifted to orbit. She was a customer herself with three potted plants hanging in the corners of her room to help purify the air, but hadn't known she was buying them from a business her brother started and in which he had a stake.

  There was a home cleaning service that also did minor handy-man repairs and resurfacing of walls and floors. Another single person business was a lady who did mending and simple tailoring, like adjusting hems, although she did upholstery too.

  A little firm stocked party and holiday decorations and offered gift wrapping with singing delivery. They did graphic design and short run printing. She suspected they had made her Welcome Home banner. They had odds and ends like greeting cards, puzzles, a few kitchen utensils and some very adult toys that made April blush even though she was alone.

  There were twenty-two other companies that ether kept one person busy or were second jobs that supplemented someone's income.

  What April could not figure out was why any of the people running these little operations didn't just drop the payment to her brother and go out on their own. Most of them were set up to pay her brother about five percent of their gross income. None were that big but together they added up nicely. She'd had no idea a year and a half or two years ago he was doing that well. She called her gramps on com and put the question to him, "Why don't these folks just go out on their own and run their own business?"

  "I wondered the same thing little gal. Some of them stick with it because they'd have to change their com code or start with a new business name and they are scared they'd lose customers. I talked with a few of them and most paid Bob to buy the business, customer list included, even if it was just a few hundred dollars. Some are supplied under the company name Bob started and are fearful they couldn't get a line of credit or le
gacy pricing on their own," he explained.

  "Most just aren't the creative sort to start something all by themselves and a few have a real fear of trying to sell anything. If they didn't get new customers by word of mouth they would fold right up as people move or retire. Bob may have been greedy like we've discussed, but I have to admit he had it pegged pretty accurately what the market would bear. Five percent is a small enough bite most of these folks find it easier to pay every month than to risk upsetting what is working well. What do you intend to do with them?"

  "Hey, if they are happy paying and feel it's worth it, why should I turn down the income?"

  "If you look at the notes Bob kept in detail, he records a number of times he had to help these folks get past a problem. A couple times their costs went up and they were terrified to raise their prices. He did a little hand holding and got them past their panic. Don't be surprised if they call you now when they run into a glitch. If you offered to just give them the full ownership and withdraw I wouldn't be surprised but what a few of them would feel abandoned. They like knowing they have somebody decisive to call when they aren't sure what to do."

  "No wonder Bob thought I wanted him to run the courier business because I couldn't!" April blurted out. "He had all these timid hand wringers who would have never had the guts to try to start a new business depending on him. After a while you must get really disgusted and think that's just normal."

  "Well, there were a few businesses he sold outright and the people didn't want any further input from him," her grandpa revealed. "But those tended to be bigger industrial sort of shops instead of little one-proprietor services. For example he sold a business with three employees and some nice contracts for pressure suit repair about six months before the war. Those bigger deals are the source of most of the cash balance he left you."

  "Yeah, when I saw those numbers I remembered how he offered to buy me out in payments. He could have afforded to give me a pretty decent chunk down on the courier business if he had wanted to, but he didn't," April said, irked all over again.

  "And I suspect part of the reason he wouldn't do that is he was getting almost reclusive," her gramps told her. "A couple years ago he'd love to tell me all excited when he was thinking up a new business. About the time he turned sixteen he stopped doing that."

  "What was he so private about? He was out late all the time, but Home doesn't have any night life, does it? Are there some secret gambling dens or something I don't know about? Eddie pretty much said there is some stuff going on that would be the vice squad's business on Earth, but he didn't want to embarrass himself by telling it to me," she said rolling her eyes in frustration. "I might blush, but I'm not going to faint away in shock."

  "There are a couple private places that have a bar and serve drinks. So far both of them are run as private members-only clubs. You have to be approved by the members to buy in. One place has live music and a comedy night. They serve food, run a poker game room, or screen videos if they don't have a game. The other place has sports gambling and shows a lot of live Earth feed of events. There are a few people we are pretty sure make their living by prostitution, but the clubs don't get involved," he said very emphatically. "They could have a trust fund," he admitted.

  "Jon and a few of us old timers talked about it and have decided to ignore it as long as the assembly ignores it. If nobody is out in the corridors making a spectacle and as long as it doesn't lead to crimes against either party then there is no law yet against it. The one thing we agreed is if somebody wants to do that – well that is their choice. But if we see somebody pimping and enslaving others as a business we'll put a quick stop to it. By bringing it up in the assembly or informally if necessary," he said with grim look.

  "Thanks for telling me the straight stuff instead of pussy-footing around it," April said.

  "You haven't finished reading all the folders yet," Happy said as fact, not asking. "I was going to have to tell you anyway when you got to the folder about the Home Social Club. That's the first place I was talking about that has music. You'll find you have a twenty percent interest in it. And no, before you ask, Bob didn't hang out there because I play poker there often enough and never saw him hanging out coming or going."

  "Wow, I own part of a night club?" April asked stunned.

  "Well, I'm sure Earthies would turn their nose up at it. Don't get any silly ideas what it is like from watching Casablanca. There's no room for an acoustical piano, the tables are tiny and most of the chairs are fold up Hardoy chairs for the half G level. But it's in the industrial area so they can crank up the music and they don't do too bad at creating an atmosphere."

  "Will you take me some night when they have jazz?" April asked, surprising him. "Can you take guests?"

  "I hardly think they'd turn away one of the owners at the door," he said, amused. "But, uh, people kind of dress up. Do you need to get something to wear?"

  "That's not a problem," April said with a sudden grin. Happy just lifted an eyebrow at her mischievous face . He had no idea she had some very elegant dresses made when she'd been down to Earth. She'd managed to bring those lifting from Tonga. Frank, the designer, had sent the matching jewelry to Home while she was sailing around the Pacific. It would be fun to have someplace to wear them.

  "Call me again if you have any more questions when you get into the files deeper," he invited. "I'll find out when there'll be some jazz," he said and logged off.

  April dug until she found the papers on the club, fascinated. It made sense the liquor importing company supplied the nightclub. So she was a supplier besides the twenty percent. By the time she read that folder she was tired of it. She'd been at it three hours. The rest could wait until tomorrow.

  She was sitting thinking about everything, trying to decide what she needed to do and what would take care of itself when her com dinged. It was Jon so she was happy to answer.

  "Hello Jon, Thank you again for your protection in the cafeteria. Your having Margaret there ahead of the guy was impressive. You were way ahead of him right from when he stepped off the shuttle I understand."

  "That's my job, but that's why I'm calling. I have a favor to ask."

  "I'll do it if I can."

  "It's not something you're very good at," Jon admitted. "I'd like you to be a bit duplicitous. I've seen you are very direct. Your allowing folks to meter your statements on Earth was devastating. But I'd like you to forget entirely about that fellow shooting at you in the cafeteria."

  "That shouldn't be hard," April agreed. "Nobody let him get a single shot off. I can say in all honesty nobody shot – at me."

  "That's exactly how I need you to think so if you are analyzed it reads as truthful and as little evidence there is any qualification or deception as possible. I've talked with everyone there and nobody has any problem agreeing it never happened. I've arranged for the body to be disappeared and it is one less thing for the Chinese to hold against you or Home."

  "What did you do? Cremate him?" April wondered. "Won't they know anyway? I mean, they sent him here. Where else would he have died?"

  "We were little more artistic than that. He appeared over by ISSII. It was too difficult to sneak him inside, but we dropped him off in a rescue ball and they've found him already. We didn't try to cover up that he was Tasered, didn't even wash the coffee off or take the knife out of his back."

  "It's only meant to create some doubt what really happened. It has to be bizarre to have three possible causes of death applied so simultaneously that none can be assigned priority. There is no record of him entering here now, he wasn't wearing spex and he was under observation seamlessly from entering Home and nobody saw him use com to report in that he had arrived. There has to be some doubt now. Especially in the sort of minds that play these games."

  "Did you remember to wipe Ruby's prints off the knife?"

  "Now really, who are you talking to little gal?" Jon asked, quietly amused.

  "Sorry." It was nice he was amused ins
tead of taking offense quickly. "That's fine with me."

  * * *

  April had been back home long enough to generate some bills that didn't get paid by auto-pay. She scrolled through them, checking off approval boxes for the things she had to buy Gunny and some odds and ends for herself. She checked her brother's com account and to her surprise there were some charges that hadn't cleared. She hadn't expected that. They all seemed to be for trivial personal expenses, a pair of spex, some paper pads and footies.

  The one that didn't make sense was a notice that said: Your monthly statement has been posted. She followed the link and it showed a log on for Banca Monte dei Paschi di Siena. It had a nice still picture of a stone building and said Banca Dal 1472. Could that possibly mean what she thought, the length of time they'd been in business? She asked for a translation. Yep, that's what it meant all right.

  She thought about trying to log on. Most systems would lock you out if you made three bad tries. She could see if the user name was in the computer. She clicked on the first box and a twelve digit number appeared in it. She recorded that on her hand com while she had it on the screen. That was probably the account number. When she clicked on the password box nothing happened. It wasn't held in the system. Oh well. Time to ask Gramps what to do.

  "There wasn't anything in his papers about an Italian bank account," Happy insisted.

  "Well, they had his addy to drop him a reminder his account was updated. The number comes up when you click on the first box so he's logged on before. Do you have anybody who is good enough with computers they might suck the password out for us?"

  "I'd ask Jon. It's connected to the Mitsubishi net so I'd want him to know why we are trying to hack it anyway."

  "That's the sort of thing Eddie used to do for me," Jon told her.

  She finally ended up with Jon, Happy, Eddie and Gunny all crowded around looking at the household com. Eddie sat beside her and she brought up the link.