April

by Mackey Chandler

  "I got your scanner all fixed up. It looks like an old Panasonic scanner on the outside, but all the old insides are gone and it's all modern voice command and computerized now. Ready to swap?" Heather asked, all eager and leaned over as if she was going to get it.

  "Please Heather, just leave it in the sack and I'll get it before I go. There's a security camera at the other end and Ruby sees everything. I'd rather not advertise I got anything from you."

  "OK, but you worry too much. The security vid gets its memory dumped in a day or two and Ruby is working away and won't pay any attention to us. Nobody will pay any attention to two girls having breakfast," she scoffed. She shoveled in oatmeal in precise little bites.

  Uh - huh, April thought to herself, you obviously know nothing about Ruby. She had no doubt at all if she asked Ruby tomorrow, she'd be able to tell her what Heather wore, which chair she sat in and she'd probably ask, Gave you something didn't she? As if she didn't know.

  April often felt like nobody ever told her anything, but a lot of com was still in the clear around M3. She was good enough at piecing together a fact here and there, into a whole. This scanner would let her figure out a great deal more than anybody would suspect. But not if she blatantly advertised what she had, so people watched their words, or worse, stopped her from using it.

  "It has all the old frequencies," Heather continued, "but now it scans all the way down to the millimeter stuff they use for locally for suits and ships." Then she dropped her voice despite having just declared how safe it was to do an exchange here. "It does what you asked for too. It will passively assemble voice and text calls off our local net, which are directed to other people's pad or phone. You just tell it the elements to look for in the system headers. You have to teach it your voice and a pass phrase first thing, because if anyone else tries to use it manually, or with another voice, the software to do the intercepts and all the files it captured get hard wiped."

  "You also have a readme file and tutorials you can access through the data port and you can tell it to watch and record just about any combo of things you want. The memory goes in where the battery was before. You have five Terabyte of memory now, but you can add more if you want. The unit is self powered from ambient light, so you don't want to stash it away in the dark for a long time. It deliberately wipes everything if it gets too low." April lifted an inquiring eyebrow at that.

  "It has some very private software some Moon friends traded to us, so it wipes everything if you try to open it, or access the operating system. We promised not to share it so we had to do that. It has a pretty decent biometric program to gauge veracity, about plus or minus 4% accurate. Do you have my chips to swap?"

  "You're getting a delivery tonight of disposables and clothing," April told her. "I already gave them to a buddy in Housekeeping to drop in your delivery bin. It's all sealed up in security tape so nobody can mess with it. Same tape key we used before. The chips are from some stuff to be pulled out of service and sent ground side, but they don't have serial numbers to worry about. It's all from stuff on the scrap list anyway."

  "OK," Heather said. She looked disappointed, but she quickly decided to do it April's way. "I know you're reliable. I'm going to get a pudding," she said, dismissing her concerns and jumping up.

  "Get me another milk please," April called to her back.

  While Heather was at the counter April bumped her napkin off the table for cover and reached down to get it and the scanner. She quickly substituted a note when she took the scanner. The note had a hundred dollar bill US attached and said, "Thanks for another nice job - a little bonus." April's grandpa had taught her a little lagniappe and a few kind words, went a long way toward a good business relationship. It would be less obvious if Heather left with the same bag she came in with.

  Heather returned and crashed her new tray on the table. "Here's your milk," she said, with a wrinkled up nose. "That stuff isn't good for you, you know?"

  "No," said April. "Nobody ever told me." The sarcasm was lost on Heather. "Don't forget to take your bag," she told her, then, after she thought about it a moment she decided she'd better be specific, or Heather might toss it in the trash without a glance. "Be sure to check inside it before you throw it away."

  "Oh, OK," Heather said surprised at the instructions, not used to deception and unexplained changes. But at least she picked up on it being a switch and didn't request an explanation why April didn't keep the bag. She worked on her pudding and banana with the same quick dainty precision which made the oatmeal disappear.

  She bangs around, thought April, but at least she is neat and quiet when she eats.

  "Do you do projects like this for other people?" April wondered aloud.

  Heather thought about it a little bit. "April, we do, but just like you wouldn't want me to talk to people about your scanner, I can't tell you much about what we do for other people. Jeff Singh is my partner for almost all of these projects. I do the hardware and he does the software usually. We often make a copy of things for ourselves."

  "I hope you're not upset," she said suddenly worried, "but the scanner was a great idea and it's almost as easy to make three as one, so we made another for each of us. You didn't ask for an exclusive, you know."

  "No, I know," April agreed. "I can respect your reasons. I'm reassured actually you'll keep my secrets. I just asked, because I have some other projects in mind. I'm not sure if they're really practical." That seemed to perk up Heather's interest.

  "It's always nice to have a bit of a challenge. Jeff definitely enjoys something difficult to do. You'd be surprised," she confided. "We've had a lot of people who've asked for snoop gear recently, not something interesting like this project, but plain old bugs and remote recorders. Jeff or I neither one want to make such simple stuff just to make a little money. There's risk if they are stupid and get caught with it and there's just no challenge in it.

  April, this guy is smart," she said and leaned forward assuming a confiding expression. "I mean he is so smart it is really hard to tell you how much. He's just off scale, actually scary. His dad works for Lucent and does nanoelectronic design. He gets ideas that are new to his dad, but his dad brings him back to earth when he gets too far out with bizarre ideas. He tells him to stop and prove out one idea, before he flies ahead."

  "I remember I saw Jeff at medical once. You stuck your finger where it didn't belong and got it pinched. He was thin and coppery dark and smiled a lot. Is he your boyfriend now?"

  "Oh no," she replied, more amused than embarrassed, "we're both too busy with our studies and how we will do business, to get all side tracked in an emotional morass right now. We see so much of each other I'm sure it would happen, but we both take the anti-bonding drugs, so we can keep romance out of the picture for now. I mean, he still looks nice and he's a great friend. I'm sure later, when we have ourselves established, we may stop the meds," she mused aloud.

  "If you get to the point you obsess about the boys - get the patch. It keeps your head clear when you have other more important stuff to worry about. I swear I don't know how teenagers used to get anything done, before they had these meds. My mom admits she pretty much drifted through high school and the first couple years of college, in a 'hormone haze'. Her grades sure show that. Why put up with biology interfering with your life if you don't have a real need? I mean - you're near fourteen now - you don't go natural and menstruate do you? I don't know anybody who puts up with the hassle of it, if they're not trying to have children."

  "Of course not," April agreed. "Wouldn't that be awkward? That's the last thing I need if I have to suit up."

  "Back then, they just didn't know the separate biochemical triggers, which make a person fixate on someone. My mom had no choice. And bonding really is separate from other feelings, a different mechanism entirely. It really validates the idea some Earthies have had all along, about separate schools for each gender. It makes sense if you can't control your thinking and are constantly distracted. The
y just didn't know the biochemical path to interfere with it then. It helps people not form inappropriate trust too. You aren't very likely to buy into a Ponzi scheme, or join a cult while on this med either. Taking my meds right now, boys still look fine and I'm interested, but not obsessed," she explained.

  "So you guys are more business partners for now, huh?"

  "Yeah, my mom says Jeff and I act more like a comfortable old married couple than teenagers. I do like him. But I know it's my head not just unthinking hots. Even if we don't get married someday, we will probably stay business partners," she predicted.

  "We have a lot of projects to pursue, but we both want to build up the capital to accomplish them. Neither one of us really wants to work for somebody else. Jeff's dad also has an investment in the Rock we hope will pay off and he's promised he'll share some it with Jeff."

  "My family, especially my gramps, has a share in the Rock also," April admitted. "I don't tell many people, because they seem to think right away we must be rich. But if you know about it from Mr. Singh, you must already know it will be awhile before they start cranking out product. Until then no bank is going to lend you money on the potential income when nobody has done this before."

  "Your gramps was one of the construction crew for M3, right?"

  "Yes," said April, pleased she remembered, "and he's one of the few who were able to stay and live here. If he hadn't taken a gamble then and put all his money in cubic, our family would never have had the money to buy into the Rock. So I guess we have a history as risk takers. Are the Singhs risk takers too?"

  Heather hesitated awhile and considered the question. "It's more complicated with them. If you come and meet Jeff, then I'm sure you'll get the whole story and you can judge for yourself. Circumstances were kind of forced on them, but then it's up to us to take advantage of whatever life tosses our way, isn't it?" She was cleaning up her tray to leave. April took her banana peel, she was making compost at home and looked to make sure Heather had her sack as they stood. They dumped their trash and stacked the trays and gave a silent little wave to each other as was their habit, before they turned opposite directions at the corridor.

  Chapter 5

  On the way home there were few people in the corridors and none April counted acquaintances. Of two thousand people on M3 she only knew three hundred or so by name, but many still looked familiar, if only because she saw them pass by so often. The eighteen to six off-shift people were pretty much home by now and the fore-shift people who worked from the middle of Main to the middle of Off, noon to midnight, were not out and about yet. The reverse, back-shift were still at work also.

  This level was very much the high rent district. All full G and big businesses all wanted to be close to the cafeteria and communications office. The rent dropped off both ways around the ring the further you had to walk to them. There were a few automated carts delivering packages and less frequently small powered chairs or stand up transports for the few elderly or handicapped. But the corridor was nicely carpeted all the way across despite having some wheeled traffic.

  The wall coverings were expensive to show off corporate wealth, a couple had wood paneling that cost a fortune even before it was lifted to orbit. Some offices had windows on the corridor like Earth buildings. The view however did not stretch off into the far distance like an Earth city street. It was more like inside a shopping mall, broken into short lengths, with dividers of architectural art placed to keep the pedestrians from seeing the arch of the corridor curving up and away.

  The up swept view really disturbed some grounders. It made them see a false horizon that wasn't where experience said it should be. In an open corridor some people would unconsciously lean back so far they had trouble keeping their balance if they looked up and into the distance. It was a well worn joke among the long time residents if you asked how new someone was - they'd just lean back on their heels with their mouths open, so it looked like they were ready to fall on their back.

  This outside level was the only one spun up to a full gravity. With metal salt infused armor glass newly available at reasonable cost, when M3 was being designed, the architects thought people would enjoy a view-port, but the sight of everything spinning by was so disturbing to most people, the few installed were mostly shuttered now. There were just a couple open ports at intersection points for novelty and because visitors often asked to see them. But it was rare to see anyone really sit and stare out. So it was surprising when April approached the next intersection, where the communications center was located and a young man, obviously an Earthie, was sitting at a bench looking down at the port.

  Behind him, a monolithic display of mobile art blocked the corridor view, with a glittering fluid circulating inside the slab. The fellow seemed to be about college age, with very short hair and dressed Earth style with a jacket and hard shoes. He looked unusually athletic, with a bull neck and shoulders. April thought of her conversation with Heather about boyfriends. She was not comfortable with the idea of a real boyfriend yet, but an unbidden thought came, that when she was someone like this would do very nicely, thank you.

  She was embarrassed at her own reaction, but not enough to keep her from stopping to find out if he was a transient, or a new resident. She sat down across from him waiting for him to notice her. Sometimes she could catch a little scent of Earthies, even the ones that didn't follow station custom and put on stinkum, or used aftershave or such. This fellow though had a slight medicinal scent, faintly mentholated like a cough drop.

  Now that she was close, she knew her first impression was wrong. He was looking down, but actually totally focused on the pad in his hands, rather than the port underneath. It was displaying some sort of blueprint, with regular rectangles and lines. He gave a little jerk of surprise and started to bring the pad up to hide it, but realized it was too late to do so and just thumbed it off. It was exactly how her friend Jerry had acted when she'd caught him looking at some porn on his pad and he had been embarrassed and guilty. He hadn't wanted her to know he was looking at such stuff.

  This fellow's reaction was odd. Why would he care what she saw him viewing? He was maybe twenty-six, she decided. A bit older than she thought at first, but no life extension work, or he wouldn't have the sun damage she saw already around his eyes. He seemed uncomfortable with her. Her older brother Bob had taught her how to put on a sort of gushy persona with shy people and she decided to try that with this fellow.

  "Hi! I'm April Lewis," she offered her hand. "I'm the Director's daughter and usually know new people, but I haven't met you. Are you finding your way around OK?" He took her hand carefully and gave it an unusually restrained one-pump, but still a grip instead of a spacer style touch. He had on very sheer gloves she hadn't noticed, but that wasn't unusual for an Earthie, quite a few of them were paranoid about disease.

  "Hello, April. I'm Art," not offering his full name. "I'm not really lost or anything, I'm an intern with Mitsubishi, here for a short visit. Eventually I'm going to be an aeronautical architect, so I am studying how M3 was made, especially what was changed from the original design because it didn't work, so the same mistakes aren't repeated."

  "Very interesting. I'm surprised my dad didn't bring you home to supper. He usually drags anyone from the company home at least once."

  "Well, I'm only here for a week. Maintenance and Housing got me a room and arranged a bunch of walk arounds. I may even get a treat and go outside tomorrow, before I have to catch the shuttle back." That was something rarely offered without need.

  "I think you're being modest," she teased, "you must have some pull to get decent accommodations. They usually just stick short timers in the barracks with the construction workers, instead of giving them a private room."

  "I suppose they are treating me really well, but it still doesn't have a port. It's one reason I came here, because it said on the map this was here," he said, nodding at the glass.

  "View-port," she corrected him. "A port opens." This didn'
t. It seemed odd, she thought, needing to point out proper terminology to an aeronautical architect student. "Looking out is not as relaxing as some people expect with the rotation," she explained, waving her hand at the black depths with a few bright stars whirling by. There was too much reflection off the glass to see very well anyway, with the corridor lights up full.

  "When it comes around I see a shuttle," he said pointing out the port, "but it looks to be a United States of North America shuttle. I don't see the FedEx shuttle I'm supposed to go on tomorrow."

  "It should be at the North hub. It'll be loading freight where the station doesn't turn, so you can't see it from here. The North hub is sort of industrial and unattractive. They don't like for tourists and VIPs to see the drab side of M3, so most passenger shuttles dock on the South. If you came in the South you should double check. Most freight haulers only have two seats to sell, so they don't redock for passengers."

  "Yes, they told me that. I see this one is scheduled to leave before mine. If I come here will I be able to see it fire its engines to fall away?"

  "Depends on the pilot. Some of them will burn their main engines right from their parking orbit and some of them move off real cautious with the attitude jets a kilometer or so, before they light 'em up. You could still see pretty well if you have a pair of binoculars."

  He nodded his understanding, but changed the subject. "This communications room was originally on the hub. Can you tell me why it ended up here?"