April 3: The Middle of Nowhere

by Mackey Chandler

  "But for how long?" Chen asked. "How long until somebody with little imagination tries them again?"

  "I don't know, but it is something about which we should add our voice in the councils of Home. We have a recent Earth perspective we can bring to the table if they are too optimistic they will be left alone now."

  "I agree, that's good. I'm prepared to add my voice in support to yours," Chen offered.

  "I appreciate that," Sato said with a nod that approached a bow. "We are from different nations so they may see our advice as stronger coming from diverse sources."

  The shuttle crew came in rushed, close to the deadline to seal up and roll. Chen and Satos both stopped talking and watched, but the spacer passengers didn't say a word to the crew. When the hatch to the flight deck sealed it was their wives who made a fuss not the spacers. They erupted in laughter over some comment their husbands couldn't hear.

  "Well, that seems to be going well too," Satos observed, eyebrows raised.

  "Indeed," Chen agreed, surprised at his usually reserved wife.

  * * *

  The Monarch of the Spanish Crown, Carl and a whole long list of other names and titles, was in the doghouse. It wasn't fair that after being miserable for almost two weeks he felt wonderful and his lovely Sophia, Queen and childhood sweetheart, would barely talk to him. Instead of simply commiserating and apologizing again for infecting her, he'd made the mistake of cheerfully saying how soon she'd feel much better just like he did. If looks could kill he'd be gracing the carpet with his sprawled corpse. How was it that after forty-six years of marriage he still stuck his foot in his mouth this badly? He retreated to his study sure the servants would take care of her needs and if his absence irritated her it was still safer than saying the wrong thing again. This bug looked to have a short incubation if, as he suspected, it was the one he'd picked it up from Elena and James. She should be well enough not to hate him in – three days – four at the outside. Meanwhile he needed to find something to occupy his time, if he could find something out of town that would be ideal. There was nothing his secretary couldn't put off for him.

  Chapter 26

  "Do you think Miss Lewis will come meet us?" Brockman asked.

  "I certainly hope not," Papa-san said, eyebrows lifting. "I sent no messages ahead. It's firm habit from my working days to take no chances with operational security."

  "Of course that makes sense," Brockman admitted, a little embarrassed. "We never had to think about that side of things, uh, when we were working." He seemed uncomfortable to say too much around Chen. "Somebody else did all that sort of secure scheduling for us."

  "My understanding is Miss Lewis is in the public directory on Home. I'm sure you can give her a com call after we arrive and arrange a meeting. I do plan to see her again myself, but my wife and I have things to do on arriving. It may be a few days before we socialize."

  "We may have to, I'm not sure we have the price of a room on Home between us."

  "Didn't you have any savings?" Papa-san asked, clearly distressed at this revelation.

  "We have bank accounts, but I doubt if we have access to them anymore. We certainly never tried to tap them while we were hiding out. I'm hearing how you think and plan being with you. Spies expect betrayal apparently, but guards like us expect to be taken care of, not turned on like we had happen. It was a shock to us and we had no plans. If you only knew how ad-hoc all our actions were, you'd be amazed we escaped. It was one improvision after another and one error anywhere along the way would have put us in prison."

  "I believe if you try to do a transaction you may find you still have access. They would leave your accounts active just for the purpose of tracking you. However I'd try to get the most part of your money in one withdrawal. I doubt they will sit around waiting to give you a second opportunity once they have a location. You don't really care if they know you are on Home now do you?"

  "No and neither of us know how to establish a new identity. We're counting on Home being safely beyond their easy reach," Brockman admitted.

  Lin spoke up. "Then I believe you should see about establishing Home citizenship. We certainly intend to do that very quickly."

  "We'll look into the details of that. We used the public library in town to find out a few things, but we were afraid to even do much net searching for fear we'd call attention to ourselves being too interested in Home."

  "Eric has more money than me," Isaac said of Brockman, just matter-of-fact. "If you can get his out first it would make more sense and then try to do mine as soon as his clears."

  "I should have inquired more about your situation while we were on Earth," Papa-san admitted, frowning. "I imagined you would say something, if there was need and tend to assume people want their privacy if they are silent."

  "We had no idea you could do anything in that regard," Freidman explained.

  "I was able to help Miss Lewis's bodyguard withdraw some cash funds. But it was easier done contacting locals I knew and arranging a physical hand-off. I think we should consult with Miss Lewis before I attempt anything for you. We're playing in her yard now," he said, smiling.

  "You think she might know somebody who could help us?" Freidman asked, innocently.

  "I'd be shocked if she doesn't know someone to help you," Papa-san told him. It was his wife Lin snickering behind a hand that gave him a clue what a silly question it was.

  "Have you forgotten how we got here?" Brockman gently ribbed him. It was because they sent a letter to April asking for help. She had certainly come through for them.

  "No and we do appreciate the ride," Isaac told the Santos again.

  "About six to twelve hours after we arrive at Home they should dock our freight shuttle," Papa-san told them. "If you would care to provide security for unloading and transfer of our things to storage I will pay for your services, that should give you funds for a few days," he offered. It was far better than simply offering charity. "I'll be listed on station com very quickly, so you can contact me, I'd suggest you do the same."

  Brockman looked at Freidman until he got a nod. "Our weapons are somewhere in that shipment. Do you think we can dig them out fairly easily?"

  "I packed them right by the hatch. I was well aware we'd want them immediately for security. It happens I have some similar items there of my own and for Miss Lewis and her hired man."

  "In that case I'm going to take a nap," Brockman announced. "We'll need to be alert and on call after we arrive for some hours. Best to rest now while we can," he reclined his couch and set his belts loosely. Eric couldn't order him to do anything, even if he was a bit the dominant personality, but Freidman took the hint to rest while he could too.

  * * *

  "Name?" the pleasant young woman inquired. They had a line rigged for folks who were new to zero G. He pulled himself to the end and kept one hand anchored on the end stanchion. The Security lady must have magnetic shoes or some sort of toe strap behind the lectern. She had a machine with a read-out screen in front of her and both hands free.

  "Eric Brockman," he replied, tense and not sure why. Freidman had gone through ahead of him without any hassle and was waiting for him near the big opening with the rotating rail. The woman had on a powder blue pants with a dark side strip and matching jacket with piping. Her beret must be pinned on somehow or it would float away given it's jaunty angle. It looked more like a designer jogging outfit than a uniform. But the Air-Taser under her elbow was all business and it had no yellow non-lethal markings on it.

  "Welcome to Home, Mr. Brockman. Please touch the taster square and your identifying bio-markers will be kept on file and attached to your name during your visit. You will be asked to check out upon leaving."

  "Don't you want to see my passport or ID?" he asked.

  "No, unless you have been formally expelled from Home you are free to enter whatever your nationality and as far as we are concerned you are whoever you say you are. Want to pick a different name?" She asked him with a teasin
g smile.

  "No, no thank you. I'll keep the one my mother gave me for now. Could you tell me where to go to find somewhere to eat and your business section?"

  "You are at the north end of the station because shuttles that don't carry a full passenger load dock here at the freight section. When you go through the bearing bore and enter spin take an elevator down to 'C' deck and there are signs to direct you to a cafeteria. Or you can stay on the central column and go straight through to the south end where the first ring is located. An elevator down there will take you to the 'A' deck which is full gravity and has another cafeteria and various shops and businesses on the same level."

  "That's what I want. Is there transport or do we, uh not walk, but whatever you call pulling along a line like this?"

  "Awkward lack in the language isn't it? You learn to just phrase around the method to say that you are going to a location, or follow the corridor to such and such. Some folks it would be truthful to say they fly, or jump, but nobody does. There is a platform with seats and luggage straps that cycles back and forth to both ends. It takes about five minutes each way if you want to wait for it. Or if you want there are four hand rails spaced about. There is an arrow on the wall by each showing the customary direction. Otherwise if you meet somebody going the other way in the middle it can be awkward passing each other."

  "How far to the elevators on the south end?"

  "Just shy of three-hundred meters and they are just short of the opposite bearing into the other non-rotating hub. You will pass two other sets of spokes with elevators. The first is not open to the public right now as it is under construction."

  He followed the line hand over hand over to where it terminated under the opening. Freidman was standing there, holding himself against the floor, his small carry-on bag floating on its shoulder strap. His head was tilted back and he was gazing up through the opening.

  "My brain can't decide if it is up or down," he admitted

  Brockman looked up and saw what he meant. You could see down the tube through the hole clear to the other end three hundred meters away. Then for an instant he saw it as down and his gut tightened at the idea of falling down this huge well in front of him. It was terrifying. There was something coming up the side of the tube towards them and he realized it was the transport platform that ran along a track with seats and room to attach your luggage.

  "That's our ride to the other end. Let's get, uh, over there before we miss it." He looked at the rail slowly turning above him. There was no easy way to rig a line through it and they hadn't bothered. No need to hurry. Accuracy meant more than speed here. He squatted slightly, braced against the end stanchion and jumped. For the first time he was really flying through the air with nothing in reach.

  When he got close to the rail he reached out and grabbed it. Reaching made his body lean away, but not so bad he couldn't get ahold of it. Next time he'd aim toward the edge a little more to allow for that. The rail slid through his hand as he gripped it and he swung trailing as it pulled him along. He hadn't pictured that is his mind very well and it swung him with his back against the rail. It was easily corrected once he was up to speed, but awkward. Freidman joined him, but grabbed the rail left handed and stayed face to it as it pulled him along.

  Now the rail and the entire long tube and everything on this side seemed at rest and looking back through the opening was like looking in the tub of a clothes dryer. There was another line rigged from the rail to the terminus of the transport sled, which was quite a bit closer. He worked his way around the rail hand over hand to the line and down it to the end of the rail.

  "The carriage will arrive in - thirty-two seconds", a screen on the wall counted down. An older lady was the only passenger. When it silently stopped the display changed to: "The carriage will depart in thirty seconds." A square under the count said "Touch here for delay to board freight."

  Eric expected the lady to push herself over to the hand line where he was waiting clinging, but she gave them a nod hello and a small smile that was likely amusement. She jumped straight to the bulkhead behind them where there was a sort of grab bar and bounced off into the opening they'd just left. She did a turnover in mid-air ignoring the rail and did a complicated two foot skipping bounce off the rotating wall of the tube with a squeak of her rubber soled shoes and vanished from their sight. Eric pushed off the end stanchion that supported the line and managed to hit the seat he was aiming at. He reached across himself and grabbed the seat arm and rotated himself around so he could pull his butt back into the seat. There was a thin elastic belt he gratefully snapped across his hips. Isaac Freidman was still stuffing himself into his when the conveyance started back up and almost tipped him sideways out of his seat. He managed to grab the belt itself and pulled himself back. His case swung around behind him as it was pulled along too.

  "We must look ridiculous," Isaac muttered.

  "Yes, the lady who just got off was kind enough not to laugh out loud," he agreed.

  There was no line rigged at the other end, but there were take-hold bars around the three elevators. One was clearly marked for the cafeteria. The elevator itself had take-holds and toe straps. There were graphic signs and instructions in four languages inside explaining perceived gravity would appear as the elevator descended. Indeed, one surface was marked FLOOR in English and Japanese and then a whole laundry list of other languages. They both skipped the toe hold and braced themselves in the corners where they could have a hand on both rails.

  The indicator lights showed there were levels A through D and corresponding Japanese symbols. It seemed to move slowly. It took about two minutes before they started feeling some pressure on their feet. At about three and a half minutes they had some definite weight and they reached the D level and a fellow in work clothing with a tool belt got on board. He glided on with delicate little foot movements, but didn't grab hold or use a toe strap. Instead of punching the touch screen he just called out, "A level." They hadn't known you could do that.

  He looked them over critically and asked, "New guys?"

  "Yes, we just got off the shuttle," Freidman admitted.

  "Welcome aboard," he allowed. "Try not to bust anything," he said, smiling. "I'll probably have to fix it if you do." He didn't introduce himself.

  D to A level went much faster than the upper part of their journey. When the doors opened there was an arrow pointing to the cafeteria and for the first time a bunch of people going about their business. They followed the maintenance man down the wide corridor past a couple businesses. Their noses said they were headed the right direction. There was a mix of savory odors. Every person they passed was wearing data spex, even a little girl who was maybe nine. Several people they passed had holstered pistols, but when a young woman passed them with an Uzi slung over her shoulder they could help looking at each other.

  "I feel naked," Freidman told him in a low voice.

  "I hear you brother. I haven't seen this many civilians packing since serving in Persia."

  The maintenance fellow was already having plates set on his tray. There was a big screen with the specials for the day and then a larger list of standard items. A cheeseburger was $48USNA and fries $18. A half chicken roasted with potato, vegetable and rolls was $68 and coffee $5. Eric had about $700 in his wallet and didn't think Freidman had that much. It wouldn't last long at these prices.

  The server was a pleasant enough young woman. 'Wanda' said the tag embroidered on her blouse. She had a diamond ring on that had about a three carat stone. Eric had an eye for jewelry and the metalwork said it was real to him. He didn't expect that sort of a ring on a cafeteria worker. Just then an older woman came in from the rear.

  "I got it," she told the young one, "you go on home." Her blouse named her Ruby.

  "Thank you honey, the sales report is printed out and on the desk, these two and one other came in after I ran it."

  "That's fine." She agreed, turning back to the serving counter. "Brockman and Freidman
I presume. Welcome to Home."

  Eric was shocked speechless. Freidman actually had his mouth hanging open.

  "Home is like a small town. Don't figure on keeping any secrets and you won't be disappointed," Ruby advised them. "Did you want something to eat?" she prompted them, since they seemed transfixed.

  "Uh, yeah. I'd like the hamburger, no fries," Brockman managed, "and is there any charge for the water?

  "You broke?" Ruby asked directly, but too softly to carry to the dining room. "Just off the shuttle you gotta be starved. Nobody your size is going to go very far on a bare burger and nobody just drinks water, 'cept a few health nuts." He couldn't take offence at her prying, because there was genuine concern in her voice and in her expression.

  "Yes ma'am, I have to admit we are very low on funds, not sure where more is coming from and it seems very prudent not to blow it all in a day. I see that wouldn't be hard to do here."

  "Nobody buys off the menu board full price unless they are just here for a day or two. Residents buy monthly access and can come in as often as they please. But what I'm hearing is that would be too dear if you are counting days. Am I right?"

  "I'm afraid so. We have some work coming in six to twelve hours, but I'm not sure what it will pay and then we'll be looking for something. We also have to keep back funds to get access to station com too so we can contact this employer."

  "You both order up a decent meal, something that will stick with you and I'll put it on my card. My husband and I never use up our full service. After being here a full shift last thing I want is to come back and eat supper here too. Besides, my husband is an excellent cook. I can do that a few days until you get established, so don't be shy to come back."

  "Thank you. It means more than I can say. We have someone who got us up here, but no real promises if she'd sponsor us past that. We were frankly just concerned with getting out of North America with our hides and not too picky about the details."