"Anybody who actually stands where he can read that will already have tracked us down and be confident about our identity. Forgive an old man his sense of humor," he asked.
The small fishing village behind them was backed by the Brazilian jungle and there was no highway into the interior except the river that emptied just south of the town. There was no real deep water harbor, but a sheltering headland that kept the worst storms from eroding their beach. There was cold beer and a decent clinic and a few satellite dishes among the solar panels on the roofs. It wasn't a bad place to live or visit and everyone minded their own business if you paid cash money or gold Sovereigns. There had been no customs or immigration boat appear when they set anchors. Papa-san's Portuguese was not perfect and tended to the European variant, but he wasn't trying to pass for a native anyway.
"The old boat builder who services the local fishing boats and trades in outboards says he can order us a dinghy. It costs a bit more to get it from him than buying it at a bigger port, but with greater privacy. It will be a week and a couple days before the usual supply boat comes in however. What should I tell him?" Lin asked.
"Are you buying an exact replacement? I'd worry somebody might run down all the sales of that model if they suspect we dumped the old one as a subterfuge," Papa-san worried.
"I was going to upgrade a bit actually. They have a new model that is a meter longer, rated to carry six instead of four. It can mount a bit bigger engine and has a decent storm canopy you can erect. The outboard doesn't have to be removed. They have a slick way of tilting it inside and lashing it down. It still fits the deck space, barely."
"Yeah, I see no problem hanging around that long. Go ahead and order it, get the biggest engine it will mount and a much smaller one for cruising slow and saving fuel and hours on the big one. If he wants a deposit that's fine, I'd be surprised if he has that much cash to buy it out of pocket. I'd bet that's about six months worth of business for him. You might as well mount the radar reflector again too," Papa-san decided, looking over his shoulder at the bare mount on the mast. "I think its absence might attract attention now."
* * *
The day after the Chinese coup everybody who had sat through the crisis with Jeff was in recovery mode, exhausted more mentally than physically. The Chinese were pretending nothing had happened officially, which Jeff could not understand. Every nation with a spy satellite could see a huge new crater in the Gobi. Anybody who owned a seismograph had a very distinctive spike on their record that said weapon, not earthquake. Jon assured Jeff their cultural concept of 'face' would preclude them ever openly discussing anything with Jeff and he should drop any silly expectation of such a thing happening.
North America censored any mention of it on public news feeds, as did much of Europe. When April scanned the news services it was all about the World Series of baseball, a court case over whether a parrot could be a service animal and a fishing boat capsized in Lake Michigan that observers swore was dragged down into the waters by something big with tentacles. Europeans who knew appeared to just not care all that much about the matter. The only strong reaction seemed to be in those small countries who were under China's influence and traded heavily with them. April suggested Jeff count his blessings that he was dealing with a clammed up sullen giant, wishing to de-escalate, instead of a screaming vindictive one. She had a point, he admitted. Eddie looked pleased when they heaped praise on him, but stayed very mysterious about the actual details of what he'd done. April added a few new terms for her net bots to search, but resisted the urge to obsessively check the news about China every ten minutes.
By supper time April and Gunny were ready to sit in the cafeteria and interact with people again. They had been content with a simple breakfast in and grabbed a lunch they took back home. April was sort of studying and Gunny disappeared into his room and napped most of the afternoon. When he came out it didn't take him long to get antsy, sitting tapping one foot and then the other. He practically jumped to his feet when April suggested supper.
The corridor seemed busy. There were people April didn't know. She didn't know everybody in home by name, but most of them she knew by sight, though at the rate Home was growing there was no way she was going to keep up now. These new folks looked to be Earthies and when she mentioned that it put Gunny on alert, worried for her.
There was a couple, young by Earth standards but still visibly lacking Life Extension Therapy, walking slow and looking at each store and office. The man was wearing a jacket and a shirt with buttons and a leather belt. The woman was wearing slacks and a blouse, but a fuzzy cardigan sweater with buttons and open pockets.
She was consulting a phone of some sort obviously trying to find their way. The Mitsubishi site for M3 was entertaining for space nuts, but pretty useless as a street guide. April took pity on them and asked if she could direct them anywhere? From the look on Gunny's face he wasn't thrilled with her charity, but didn't say anything. He stood back against the wall where he could look both ways down the corridor.
"I am James," the man hesitated thoughtfully, "Alphonse and this is my wife Elena. We just came in on the shuttle from New Las Vegas. This is all rather confusing to us. We are used to having security traveling ahead for us who become familiar with the area and arrange our accommodations ahead and check us in. We were assured security was much less of a problem on a habitat, so our family was content to allow us to come alone rather than pay for an escort to accompany us."
"You're probably looking at the official site," April guessed. "That flat map is fine for space nuts, but to get around you really need some spex. The local net will build a 3D color coded model around you in your spex oriented to where you are and which direction you are facing."
"I've never worn data glasses," Elena said, visibly embarrassed. "James has used them for military training. We can get him a pair," she proposed. "Is there somewhere near to buy them? A place to get some lunch would be welcome too."
"Our clock is off yours a little. We were just going to get some supper. There are basically two places to eat on M3. The one nearby is quieter. The other caters to the young workers and has a bar and music and lighter food. Would you like to walk with us and we'll show you the way?" April offered.
"If your, uh, companion has no objection," James agreed, examining Gunny dubiously.
"Ah, Gunny probably seems unfriendly to you," April realized. "He's my hired man, in work mode guarding me," April explained. That made both of them visibly relax. They didn't have their security with them, but they immediately understood the relationship.
"What did you think he was?" April teased, leading them down the corridor, "a chaperone?"
That drew an honest laugh from both of them. "We are not unfamiliar with chaperones, but our dueñas tended to be hatchet faced old ladies in a shawl, obsessively working a rosary," Elena said. That necessitated explaining what exactly a rosary was and how one was used.
The cafeteria was much like any Earth cafeteria, it was a pretty mature business model after all. But the couple had the little hesitations and hyper-alertness that said it was an unusual experience for them. When it came time to pay James produced a credit card, but he had to have the optical port pointed out to him and he swiped it awkwardly instead of the automatic flick of the wrist used by people who did it multiple times a day and no longer thought about it.
"Might I ask your name?" James said very formally once they were seated.
"Just call me April," she offered. "I'm April Lewis, but I'd rather be informal." She took her spex off and rubbed the bridge and the ear pieces with a sani-wipe and a napkin. "I have these set to show you where you are," she said offering them to Elena. "You see the symbols on the left side high. The bars will increase the more layers you are seeing. The little checkerboard will color code the cubic according to use. Double-blinking on it quickly will bring up the color chart. The little pyramid on its side will change your perspective from oriented on you to off on the same plane or s
witch ninety degrees away if you blink right at the point and drag it. If you lose track of where you are look at the little arrow going in a circle and a double blink will take you back to default."
"That's really quite easy to use," Elena said, surprised. James was eating but paying close attention to their exchange.
"Well, sure. That's the whole point of spex to make it easier, not harder."
"What do the other things do?"
"The hash mark is M3 net. You are on that now, that's why it is shaded. The double hash will open up Earth nets to you, if you want to search information sites or shop or make travel reservations or look at commercial news agencies. The same as if you were sitting at a computer at home. The phone icon is not just a phone. You can do text or mail off the pull down menu."
"What are the three ovals overlapping?"
"That you have to log on, I logged out to show you the spex. That's the militia net. You can communicate with other members of the Home militia; see where the active online members are real-time. It deploys and commands orbital weapons and you can ask armed ships for support."
"Amazing," Elena declared, taking them off gingerly like they might explode.
"Don't worry, I use really good passwords and those command programs require biometric identification too. You can't sneeze while ordering new shoes and accidentally bomb Chicago." That got a smile that was definitely brittle.
"Maybe that was insensitive humor," April allowed. "If you are USNA I didn't mean to be flip and offensive."
"No, we are Spanish," James assured her, patting the emblem embroidered on the pocket of his blazer. "We recognized Home fairly early last year. We're just not used to confronting the nasty side of politics so directly".
"You patted that fancy logo like it should explain it to me. It's pretty, but I don't know what it means. You'd have to explain it to me."
James smile was definitely wry. "I'm further from home than I've grasped mentally. This is the Coat of Arms of the Spanish Crown. It's on our flag also, but I imagine you aren't familiar with Earth flags either."
"No, we don't have much occasion to see them. We haven't had anyone open an embassy and we don't even display our own new emblems much. I really should have them painted on our vessels," April realized suddenly. "We have their names and some nose art. I just didn't think of it until now. I remember seeing the French had their flag painted on L'Arc de Ciel."
"It is traditional," James agreed.
"But I wouldn't think to embroider our ovals on my jacket," April added.
"Ah, but we are of the King's family, so it is our special privilege."
"Does that mean you are royalty?" April asked puzzled.
"Heavens no! We are nowhere near the succession, thank goodness. The Royal Family and the extended family of the King are very different things. We are not even addressed specially back home, which burden the King bestows on some of the close family. You might term us minor nobility I suppose, but it doesn't mean much to have empty titles that don't attach to any land. Being the Duke of something that hasn't been on a map for centuries is meager in benefits. There are all sorts of cousins and distant relations that have duties in government agencies, or run charities for the King. But we are spared for the most part silliness like cutting ribbons for bridges and smashing champagne on ships."
"That's interesting. I have yet to study coats of arms; that sort of stuff is called heraldry, isn't it?" April asked.
"Yes and people get obsessive about it, arguing who is entitled to display what and exactly where a line should be drawn or what angle a chevron should assume. Not to mention there are different systems for just about every European country and similar things elsewhere."
April nodded. "Our habitat is owned by Mitsubishi and you will see their mon of three water chestnuts. It looks like three coral red diamonds. Have you seen it?"
"Indeed, I've seen it in my rear-view mirror on the front of heavy trucks," James agreed.
"I have some mons on a pair of swords I own. My grandfather told me it was unusual because most of the swords the Japanese surrendered after WWII had the family crests made unreadable."
"We don't usually think of people having hobbies and interest in things like antiques on space stations. I suppose I thought everything was ultra-modern and functional," he admitted.
"So are you the sort of a royal cousin toiling away in government bureaucracy when you aren't visiting space stations?" April inquired.
"Not I," James disclaimed, "Elena is the bureaucrat, hard at work preserving Spain's antiquities. She works with several museums and universities and has a great deal to say about how thoroughly an area must be inspected and searched for archeological finds before it is dug up with earth moving equipment to make a road or a building foundation. I, on the other hand, oversee a Royal Charter charity which grants funds to special cultural projects that are worthy, but might otherwise go unfunded."
"Well, isn't that a match made in heaven?" Gunny said grinning, connecting the dots on that quickly and getting involved for the first time.
"Indeed, some crass barbarians have suggested it is a conflict of interest," James agreed, making a prissy face. "We simply see it as efficient. It avoids all the unseemly late night skulking about and sneakiness that such relationships seem to involve when the associates are not married. I think they are just jealous we can keep reasonable hours. Sadly for them as long as the King is happy with us it doesn't matter what they think."
"It always seemed to me having a King could work really well if you had a good one, because you lose all the inefficient layers in decision making. He just says to do something and it jolly well better get done. On the other hand it could be really terrible if he orders all sorts of things, but he's an idiot," April speculated.
"I would share that amusing appraisal with the King at one of our rare extended family soirees, but he's a fanatic about history. It would set him off on a monologue about all his ancestors and into which category they fell during their reigns. Mostly idiots I fear."
"I didn't expect the food in a cafeteria serving the general population to be anywhere near this good," Elena admitted. "I was looking in the business directory for private restaurants and didn't see any. If this is typical of what they serve it would be difficult to compete with them. I had no idea exactly what blackened meant, but my grouper is delicious." She seemed to be doing justice to the Cajun rice and grilled asparagus too.
"We do have a couple small private clubs that are by membership, that's something new. I doubt they'd want to advertise. It has only been recently we suddenly grew from about two thousand residents to almost three thousand now. I don't think it will slow down any time soon. I was told the next ring will need to have another cafeteria. If you'd like to go to a club I can ask my grandfather to arrange it. I've asked him to take me next time they have jazz."
"Will they allow you in a club?" James asked dubiously.
"Without going into a big story, I'm an adult, think of me as emancipated. We don't have any laws about serving liquor to minors even if I were not. We have almost no laws about anything and most of us are working hard to keep it that way."
"I noticed all the weapons people are openly wearing. I was trying to think how to ask about it politely," James admitted.
"Citizens of Home are sovereign, They can arm themselves with anything they please."
"Oh, come now. I don't think you'd want individuals holding nuclear weapons would you?"
"How many days were you over on New Las Vegas?" Gunny asked.
"We spent four days at the Nuevo Ritz. We're still checked in there actually, We didn't want to advertise our business here if it could be avoided. I'm just glad this place doesn't seem to be infested with news photographers watching the entry. There were a few on NLV."
"Paparazzi? If I see any here I'll invite them to be on the next down shuttle, or meet me before breakfast and give me the satisfaction of standing to my fire," April vowed. She laid her hand o
n her laser to leave no doubt what she meant.
"You can see guarding her is a joy," Gunny said drolly. "You might like to know that the second day you were on NLV the Chinese landed a vessel they had hijacked from a Home company at their main spaceport in the Gobi desert. The owner rather politely asked for it back and they declined. The spaceport is now a crater about six kilometers across. So you see they are perfectly happy with private ownership of nukes. And this fellow was not the least afraid to drop one on China if they insisted on playing rough."
"That's insane!"
"He thought so too. You just don't steal people's stuff and expect there to be no consequences," April agreed, deliberately missing the point of who was insane. She was pleased how Gunny took Jeff's side. "These people are armed because North America invaded us last year. They sent up a shuttle full of Space Seals to try to keep us from seceding. Didn't work, we killed them," she said with blunt economy.
"You're very fortunate they didn't use a nuke on you!" James said horrified.
"Oh they tried that too, didn't work any better," April said blandly.
"None of this was on the news," James protested. He was visibly shocked.
"Really dear. You are close enough to the workings of government to know that is a silly thing to say," Elena said, but not unkindly.
"Yes, but…" words failed him.
"The Valencia affair," Elena said giving him a look that invited him to dispute it.
"God, don't even say that word in public. That's been buried long enough hopefully we may all die before it sees the light of day."
"You see? Every nation has affairs like that tucked in the closet," Elena assured him.
James took a deep breath. "This is remarkable," he said of his pork tenderloin medallions in a dark sauce with mushroom caps and potatoes Lyonaisse. There were three little yellow roses made of shaved squash. "I somehow thought you'd be eating a lot of freeze dried things to conserve lift weight." If it was an obvious forced change of subject nobody objected. He looked stressed enough nobody wanted to add to it.
April 3: The Middle of Nowhere Page 17