"So you are opening accounts for us to accept the transfer?" Isaac asked.
"Yes, but as soon as it is confirmed we shall do another wire to The System Trade Bank, Mr. Singh's firm and close out your account. If you should care to do business with us later we'd welcome that, but if the Earth banks attempt to ask for the funds back it simplifies it for both you and for us to not even have a current account to debit."
Jeff poked his head in the door. "Ready for us?" he asked Hall. At a nod he came in with his own computer and a stuffed portfolio. April was right behind. They shook the lieutenant's hands, but they'd just met them on com so they didn't waste time on formalities.
"This creates your accounts with the System Bank," Jeff told them. "I need your full legal name and your com code to receive statements. These are your bank cards," he said laying them by the other bank's papers. "They are issued through Standard Russian Bank of St. Petersburg. We automatically debit your account and forward it to the Standard bank whenever you use the card. There is no fee for retail, but getting cash at a machine can have fees so I suggest you come in here and present your card or call me on com if you need cash and I'll have it couriered to you."
"You work with Russians to issue bank cards?" Brockman asked uncertain.
"Yes, they are a large dependable bank with a big card customer base. I don't expect you to have any trouble presenting the card anywhere on Earth or off. I just got our first fifty cards this week and you two are among the first customers. We use a European payment settlement service too, no North American connections at all."
"These are taste lock cards!" Freidman said picking one up. "I've only seen one in movies."
"That's all we got. Don't worry, there is no minimum balance. I could issue one to a fifty buck account if I wanted. We'll absorb the expense."
"And these documents create your accounts at the Private Bank of Home," Hall said sliding his forms next to Jeff's. "I need a dollar each from you to create the accounts before we can wire into them. Then of course they will close as soon as the money is passed on to the System Bank."
Eric and Isaac both produced a dollar and slapped it on the table and scribbled out their passwords.
"I suggest when I obtain a balance we leave a nominal sum in the account rather than close it out. A close out often triggers human intervention and action to freeze an account for ninety days, supposedly to give outstanding debits time to filter in."
"Sure, leave twenty bucks in my account," Freidman volunteered.
"Sounds good," Brockman agreed.
They signed the Private Bank papers and then the System Bank. Jeff signed and pulled a cylinder out of his pocket and pressed it after his name and held a button down on the end. When he lifted it there was a complex seal printed with a rainbow spread of color across it.
"Is that some sort of notary seal? Wouldn't you need witnesses? Isaac asked.
"It's my hanko. Not my personal one, I have one of those, but my official seal for the bank. If you do much business with the Japanese you'll find it expedites things. These are much more secure than the old carved sort. It needs my thumb on it to print."
"We seem to have everything. Are you ready to do this?" Hall asked.
Brockman just nodded nervously.
"Yeah, do it." Freidman agreed.
"And I'm in," Hall announced. "Filling out form. Do those numbers look right to you?" he asked Brockman as he typed.
"Yeah, that's about right. It's crazy, but I think they have been paying me all this time."
"I'm also printing a detailed statement for the past year while I am logged on. Okay, your account with us is transferred to the System Bank and closed out. It's been nice doing business with you," he quipped with a smile.
"No joy here," his underling Dan announced. "This says Isaac Freidman is deceased and your estate was settled by your executor without probate and the account is closed. It's dated almost a year ago."
"They think I died in the Deepwell bunker!" Freidman exclaimed.
"Aren't there eyewitnesses who would have placed you outside the bunker?" April asked.
"I transferred to Brockman's vehicle while the attack was in progress. All the duty records would have been inside the collapsed mountain. The driver of the vehicle I left may have never reported the transfer. He may not have survived for all I know."
"And you didn't see anyone else once you were with Brockman?" April asked interested.
"Uh, basically anyone who saw us after that we shot dead," he admitted.
"That sort of thing happens in war," Hall noted with a shrug. "It isn't all bad. You don't have to worry about them coming after a dead man. I would consider letting your death record stand as a convenience unless you have a compelling reason not to do so."
"No, I have no siblings and my parents are dead. I have no close relatives with whom I want to get back in contact. Just an elderly uncle who never much cared for me."
"Mr. Singh," Brockman spoke up frowning, "Isaac and I have been partners over a year. We depended on each other for survival. He provided the place we sheltered in the Maine woods. I'd like you to divide the funds you were able to recover for me equally into both our accounts."
"Crap, you don't have to do that Eric. We never made any share and share alike agreement."
"No, but it's what I feel is right."
"Well, thank you. That's very decent of you," Freidman acknowledged.
"Ah and here comes the clawback already," Hall told them. "Sorry boys, those funds flew the coop many, many milliseconds ago," he said as he typed a response in. "The silly people figured he's buying a pizza or something. They could have restricted the account but they were just a little too confident to do that. Too bad," he said but didn't sound like he meant it.
"I'm going over to the cafeteria for a meal," April informed them. "If you have time to come along and talk I'd love to hear more about your escape."
"We just had a meal, but we'll sit and have coffee with you," Brockman offered. "We need to call Mr. Santos however and may need to leave suddenly to do some work for him."
"Of course, necessity always takes precedence," she agreed.
* * *
"If you stay with me I intend to share out the profits from each season according to time in service and rank. You'd be number two and in at the start so you'd do well. I'll have to set a certain amount aside for maintenance and repair, but I won't be making much more than crew," Li assured Tara.
"But you aren't paying out actual shares of the boat?" Tara asked.
"No, I feel too deeply about the Tobiuo to risk control of her. You give out two percent here and five percent there, people retire or move on. Next thing you know you own less than half and the owners are telling you they don't want you to command her anymore."
"I understand, but I'm much like you, I want something for myself, not just to be a hired hand," Tara explained. "It doesn't mean I lack regard for you."
Li nodded understanding. "You will get some separation money from the Santos. I honestly don't have any idea how much yet. He has to dispose of some properties. If you stay for a season or two to save your wages after your share is distributed that's fine too. I will just know it's a temporary thing and use the time to groom another for second. If you feel you can reach your goals faster elsewhere, well, I wish you well and hope you are glad to see my face if we should chance upon each other."
"I'll wait and see what I am gifted for my service and tell you that day if I'm with you the next sailing season or not. Is that agreeable?" he asked Li.
"That's entirely agreeable."
"Do you then intend to groom Haru as your second officer?" Tara asked.
"No, Haru is a good hand, but I could never sleep easy with him standing a night watch at the wheel alone. He lacks a certain attentiveness that worries me." He frowned and gestured like he was uncertain what to say. "Not that you would find him sleeping at his watch, but he is given to going off in deep thought that leaves him blin
d to what his eyes are seeing."
"Yes exactly. I'm glad you know it. If you'd asked I'd have said something similar, that he is given to daydreaming. I'm glad you already knew it."
"If I should stay with you a cruising season, do you know where you want to set up in business?"
"Yes, we will be going to Italy. And if you stay a season you should expect to take her out with clients a few times without me."
"That seems a great deal to trust to somebody who is temporary."
"You are not one to slack off until you are stepping on the dock with your bag on your shoulder waving goodbye. I have some medical things to attend to in Italy. We'll need another hand even if you were staying."
"Oh that," Tara said surprised. Yes that's something for me to think on too," he admitted.
"The master counseled that it was something best done while conditions are stable and funds to hand. He seemed to think things might be stormy and uncertain not so far in the future."
"Did he now? You have the advantage of me there. He was kind enough to me but we never spoke of serious matters in such depth."
"I was in his household much longer," Li pointed out. "To reveal so much of his thoughts was not something he did easily with me either. But here, I'm sharing it with you," he said, gesturing with his cupped hand like it was laying on his palm.
"There is safety on the sea and provisions and work when things are going poorly ashore isn't there?" Tara asked.
"To a degree. You still have fittings and gear you have to replenish in port. It's not like in the old days you could put in at an island and hack down a tree for a new mast."
"But the sea will feed you and gives you places to hide."
"And when things are going badly there are more pirates on the water and the coast guards themselves can turn their hand to quiet lawlessness if they can hide it. One needs to have teeth."
"I'll consider all that when I give you my answer," Tara promised.
"If you leave will you go back home?" Li asked.
"Where is home? Hawaii is nice, but I'm not sure I want to stay there. Japan is stifling and my family seem like aliens now. I might take the master's decision for a wise one and follow him off planet."
That was the first answer with which Tara really surprised him.
* * *
"What is Papa-san hiring you to do?" April asked between bites.
Freidman was holding his mug in both hands like they were cold. Some people did find the station cooler than they were accustomed to on Earth. He gave Brockman a look that invited him to answer.
"He has an unmanned shuttle coming in and he'd like some security unloading and taking it to storage," Eric answered minimally. "I'm concerned actually," he said turning and addressing his buddy. "They will be unloading at the north end in zero G. We were almost helpless even with lines rigged to let us pull ourselves along. How can we pretend to work as security where we can't handle ourselves? I can't in good conscience do it and Papa-san is no idiot. He'll immediately see we are out of our depth."
"Beyond the bearing is a security zone," April pointed out. "You are going to have station security there and it would be stupid to try anything bottled up there. The danger, if there really is any, would be once you get into spin."
"Well we can hardly tell him we'll wait at the elevator and take it from there. We need the work but I want to earn it honestly, not take charity make-work from Papa-san."
"Would you split the job with another zero G qualified team?" April asked.
"You and your body guard?" Eric asked. He looked like he was afraid it was a joke.
"No, Gunny is not qualified either," she didn't speak to herself. "I know a duo who fled to Home from New Las Vegas. Got a lift on a French ship. They are doing contract work as they can find it and they are good at zero G handling. Maybe not like some of the beam dogs who can deal cards with their toes, but they know weapons and weightless martial arts."
"I'm not sure what would be reasonable to offer them," Brockman worried. "I wasn't going to press Papa-san for a contract and just accept whatever he wanted to offer. If he doesn't realize the rate up here I could end up owing them more than we made."
"Surely you won't need them more than a half shift. Two thousand bucks each USNA should make them happy," she frowned, "Maybe even fifteen-hundred if you want to offer that first."
"Three thousand wouldn't ruin us," Freidman suggested cautiously. "Certainly Papa-san will be aware of prevailing wages. He'd make it a point to know."
"Let me show you a video of these two in action," April offered. "I'll send it to your spex. This is on New Las Vegas and they had a couple Homeland Security resist arrest." She had their full attention with that story and went back to eating while they watched it. They just occasionally exclaimed, "Oh wow…"
"Yes, call your friends," Brockman told her. "If we can buy talent like that to back us up it'll be worth every cent."
* * *
When they returned to the barn Earnest was tired. The big gelding even more so, well exercised and wet. He needed walked and rubbed down. He expected his sovereign would be wobbly kneed after a ride like that, but instead of easing down to one foot he threw his leg over the saddle in the front and slide off to land two footed with barely a flexed knee.
"No offense young man, but you look kind of haggard. Have you been out partying and not taking care of yourself?" He didn't seem to be sarcastic, but genuinely concerned.
"No, I guess it's just time creeping up on me like everybody else. I am past forty now, Sire."
Carlos let out a perfect horse snort that made the gelding's ears pop up to say what he thought of that excuse. He started taking care of his own tack and Earnest rushed with his. He wasn't about to let his king comb his own horse down no matter how tired he was. At this rate the old man would start mucking out stalls if he didn't get ahead of him.
* * *
"Surely you have some other assets than just your cash money," April asked her lieutenants.
"Not much. You have to remember, we ran for our lives without any warning. We both left all our things in apartments. I assume they are all long ago cleaned out and trashed or stolen, except it turns out Freidman's stuff went to heirs. We're Navy lieutenants, it's not like we were from wealthy families. We got by month to month and if we had any retirement it was going to be from having enough time in service eventually. We didn't have investments, or art hanging on the walls at home or anything," he joked.
"We stole all the money from the people we shot and found some more in the motor home. We actually robbed the dead President's pocket. He actually had money in his wallet. Damned if I know why. Where would he be walking into a store like regular people to spend it? Isaac's friend had money and Maples cached at his cabin that we used to buy things in town. We need to pay him back eventually," he said, uncomfortable.
"We stripped out the supplies in the motor home. It was well equipped for the President to retreat. We have enough high end firepower now to run a small war and a heap of demo we took before we burned it. All kinds of surveillance equipment and electronics. A lot of those radios and such we left behind. Even our personal pistols are stolen from the Navy. We'll get all that stuff with Papa-san's shipment. He assured us we could own it here legally, but I doubt all of it would sell for much."
"You have the pistols you used to shoot President Hadley and his guards?" April asked.
"Yep, stamped on the slide, 'Government Property' 10mm standard issue pistols."
"Well if you want funds I will offer you one million dollars USNA for those two pistols and a letter of provenance and your account of the shooting to authenticate them."
They both looked at April shocked.
"Hey, it's like owning the pistol Booth used to shoot Lincoln or Hinckley used to shoot Reagan. Those sort of things go in museum cases and are historic treasures."
Brockman looked to Freidman for guidance. "It might actually be worth more later," Freidman mused. "But i
t gives us a lot of options right now, in hand and she takes the risk of what it is worth later." He thought about it a moment. "I'm inclined to take it."
"Me too," Brockman agreed. "We have the other weapons we looted to actually use. Even those might have some value to collectors eventually. We'll set those two pistols aside, the holsters and stuff like extra magazine holders and issue ammo too." He offered to shake on the deal and April showed them how spacers touch instead of pump.
"Now I know what has been tickling at the back of my mind since the bank," Isaac exclaimed. "We didn't have to give a tax number for the bank. Will we have to pay tax on the price of the pistols? Is it taxable income?"
"We don't tax income," April told him. "If you don't pay tax you don't vote, but it's entirely voluntary. If you want a vote and elect to pay tax it's split evenly between all the citizens who have elected to assume the burden. And they meet annually and decide the budget line by line voting yea or nay."
That appeared to be too much to absorb quickly. They looked at each other, eyebrows lifted again. "We really have to sit and read how things work up here," Freidman told her. "We just couldn't do that hiding out in the Maine woods. But I think we're going to like it," he conceded.
* * *
"Hello my little Sugar Plum, are you feeling any better?" Carlos asked smoothly. His wife's face on his phone was firm and no longer pale, but it still was a mask of irritation, albeit healthy and rosy cheeked.
"I wouldn't be calling you if I weren't," she snipped. "You seem to find the company of horses preferable to mine. Have you been sleeping in a stall?" she inquired.
April 3: The Middle of Nowhere Page 35