"And what will you do if I use that code phrase?"
"Shut off my radio and if anybody tries to get close enough to tell me I'm a soldier again I'll open up on him with Matilda here."
"Matilda?"
"You hoist her up on your hip and cut loose and you'll understand. You go waltzing around, ain't no rock and roll step" He smiled sincerely.
Margaret wasn't buying it. "Tell me another fantasy lead butt. You cut loose with this, you can use it instead of the engine to push you home. Even in a full G you are not going to fire it off hand. What you going to use as a mount in zero G? It would be kind of obvious to weld a pintle by the main hatch don't you think? Every dock rat who has ever served in the military would be rolling their eyes and making faces at you every time you dock and there would be all sorts of rumors around in no time."
"Well" Easy considered. "Due to the improvisational nature of some of my government work, we occasionally had to fly civilian helicopters or fan platforms and look real tame when we were going in and out of airports. Used lifters with oil company or survey markings. Sometimes even forest service. We'd make up temporary gun mounts from fat C clamps with some plastic pads on the faces to not mar up the airframe too badly. Sometimes we put a piece of plywood under the clamps if the skin seemed too thin to take the recoil. Think you can get one of these shop rats to weld up a similar trick, real quickly?"
They asked Dave for a fabricator and explained what they were making. He said "OK. I have a guy who's a licensed airframe mechanic for those kind of vehicles. He's a Scot they call Red. He's probably already done something much the same."
The fellow who came over was a gnome of a man with dense thick eyebrows and the biggest hands Easy had ever seen. If his hair was ever red it was long ago because it was white as could be. He seemed to scowl a lot, but he wasn't surprised at their request at all. They had the gun sitting on a floor tripod by now and he squatted down and took the grips like he was firing.
"Does this gun have vacuum rated lubricants and bearing surfaces?" he inquired.
"Uh, I just assumed it would if it's in orbit. But I couldn't document it," Margaret admitted. "Would you ask Jon and if need be test it please?"
"OK. We'll take care of it. Now, we'll have a clamp down here, under where the U joint is and the edge of the hatch will be about here," he said holding a pocket scale parallel with the floor. "What is your shell basket like, so I don't have it hang up on the hatch edge when you transverse right or left?"
"Shell basket?" Easy asked.
"Well, what did you use to catch your empty casings and the plastic pieces from the disintegrating belt, when you used the same sort of setup in an aircraft?" He had a funny bit of a burr to his voice, which tended to add an odd lilting emphasis to the syllables in the longer words.
"They just flew everywhere and sometimes we ended up ankle deep in them by the time we were done shooting. Half of them seemed to go inside my collar and burn the crap out of me."
"God preserve blind fools and Englishmen," the fellow muttered with a shake of his head, "It's a wonder you never sucked a few flying out the open hatch into your engine and brought yourself down. Even if you don't have an engine intake on this boat, are you going to leave a bloody cloud of brass hanging there in an orbit for some poor fellow to run into? You aren't the sort of Ugly Charlie who just throws his chip papers out the window of your ground car when you're done with your snack, are you?"
"Oh no. Not at all. I can see the value of a basket. Please, could you include a cartridge catcher in your work up so we can be, uh, tidy?"
"Sure, it would be my pleasure." The gruff fellow assured him, happy with him again, "I'll have it done before the Saturday shift comes on," and hurried off to the machine shop.
"I feel like a schoolboy, scolded by the Principal for littering." Easy said.
"I think it's kind of cute." Margaret said smiling. "I think where he's from they'd call them a Headmaster. Notice he doesn't care if you are going to riddle someone else's multibillion dollar space craft with a couple hundred holes, but he wants you to be as neat as possible about it."
Ruby had finished her inspection and found the shop coffee without difficulty and sat sipping a foam cup. She had the sense to stay out of the way. April sensed things were gelling pretty well and approached her. "I think we're about wrapped up. We'll have Jeff's generators plugged in tomorrow and be ready to go."
"They still trying to cut you out?"
"Jon is," April admitted checking over her shoulder.
"I knew you were flying it, clear back when you asked about Easy helping. Man should have asked me. I'd have saved him a bunch of anguish fighting it." She was looking the ship over while she talked. "It's so small, that surprised me," Ruby said.
"Really? I hadn't thought of it as small."
"Yeah the cabin is as small as a van like we'd rent to drive around on vacation down below. And the whole thing is as small as a van pulling a travel trailer. You could put the whole thing in a semi-truck they use Dirtside to deliver stuff to stores. I flew on planes you could drive a big truck like that on board and take the whole thing where it was needed and never have to transfer the load. Drive on - drive off. What are you going to call her?"
"Well, it has a factory hull number. It probably had a short company number too, but it's gone now."
"No. A number is not enough," Ruby told her. "It's a ship now. Even the planes we flew were all named by the crews. The shuttles and space planes are all named. They may have a tail number now, but they're still named. You check with the crew and the controllers and you'll find out the company may say we've scheduled flight 47, in Boeing D body 1437. But the flight crew would say we're lifting the Ellen Ochoa to M3. Pick a good name for her April."
"I think I'd like to name her after my grandfather."
"The Robert Lewis? Sounds good. Not a big mouthful like some of the Russian boats."
"No. Nobody would know who it honored. They might think it was my brother," she said, with a distaste Ruby ignored but would remember. "No, I meant we'd name her the Happy Lewis. Do you think I should consult with my brother?"
Ruby snorted through her nose. "He'd want to name her Unending Prosperity or something and they'd all think she was a Chinese boat. Go with your instincts and tell him you didn't think it would matter to him. He'd look terribly petty to argue about it being named after his own grandfather."
April went to look up the shop foreman and have it painted on.
Chapter 20
Justine could see the suspicion written on the man's face. He couldn't blame him at all. He'd be cautious under the same circumstances. He'd stopped at the first decent coffee shop when he reached ISSII and sat and called home to find out who ran this territory. His brother had been at his cabin fishing for the weekend and he didn't take a phone out on the boat with him. Saturday was a bad day to find people who had hobbies. He had to speak with several underlings before he found a soldier, who could make a few calls and ask the local family to come and meet them. He wanted them to be aware of his people and get permission before he just moved in like he was at home.
"Honest friend, he's not any business, just my nipote. In fact it's kind of an embarrassment in the family. He's actually with security on M3. He's almost a cop. But you have to watch out for family if they haven't done anything to shame you and he is an honorable kid. A real straight shooter. Don't you have a soft spot for your nephews? I'll send my people off to the hotel and you and your boys can take me alone, to just have a word with him. I'll just hand him back a Visa card he should have and we'll stay out of your hair. No business while we're here at ISSII at all, just a little vacation," he promised.
The man Eddie would have recognized as his waiter nodded reluctantly. "Yeah. I really do understand. The couple he's staying with, the Agapitos, are family too. They got all involved in this nano business. I never understand half of what they're talking about, but they make money hand over fist being 100% legit and th
ey still have respect for the family, so we keep an eye on them just like you do yours. Let's go see them and you can give him his stuff."
"Nolan, take Mr. Persico's people to the hotel, the better one, The Cottage and make them at home. They want anything, they want to go anywhere, they're our guests, understand? No worry about who they talk to, or arguing about any of their personal equipment," he said looking pointedly at the cello case. "They're under our protection. And tell Harold too. The manager is an associate," he explained to Justine.
"You are most gracious. I thank you for your hospitality," Justine said inclining his head. "I hope I have opportunity to return the favor someday."
"Yeah? Thanks. I don't get much chance to get down anymore. Once in awhile I get to go home, I'm from Bataan," he said pronouncing it with three syllables, "but unless you go way out on the small islands it isn't the same anymore. You can look out the window and it might as easily be Florida. They've kind of ruined it down there as far as I'm concerned."
"It isn't just your homeland friend. I don't know anybody who's thrilled with what Earth has become, anywhere you go. It's becoming all the same. Why does there have to be a McDonald's in every town in Tahiti and Kenya? Don't any of them value their own culture anymore?"
The big Filipino nodded in surprised agreement.
* * *
Eddie sat at the table with the Agapitos and his uncle Justine. The beefy Filipino he immediately recognized as his waiter. Then they introduced him as the Agapitos' cousin John. Justine's story about Ernie winning the Big Shot was hilarious. He was a natural story teller and when he got to the punch line everybody just roared. Eddie just held the Visa in both hands looking at it with wonder.
"Pull the tab off and hold your finger over the taster," His uncle urged him. "No sense leaving access to that kind of money unlocked."
"So," John picked up the conversation, while he did that, "most people who get a chunk of money like this quit their job and retire. I hope you know, a lot of them end up broke and starting over in just a few years."
"I've seen stories about lotto winners. A lot of them can't handle it. Some think they can buy every expensive toy they want and have no idea owning a big yacht for example, is more about what it costs every year to run it, than the purchase price. A lot of them get stung on investments too. Even those who try to go to a legitimate brokerage house, but give them discretionary powers. I'm happy doing what I am. I'm also in the good position of not having my coworkers know I hit it big. So I won't be like some who might have tried to keep working, but the jealousy and friction with their workmates made them quit to get away from it."
"So you'll stay where you are and try to keep your job?" John asked.
"Sure. I'll try. I like my boss. I like living on M3. I may buy a few new pieces of furniture or a new suit, but mostly I'll invest this and keep it for the future. The same folks who developed the Rock are talking about bringing a big snowball back and mining the volatiles. I think I'll buy a piece of that new project, if I can talk to them and get in." He thought of something else. "Justin could you have your banker friend open another account and give my friend Ernie a card in his own name for two million Euro from what you left him and tell him it's for his services and I appreciate his work. Then you keep the balance for all the trouble you've gone to for me. I know it was for family, but you've spent a lot out of your pocket and you can give your people a little bonus if you want."
"You sure about Ernie? I've seen guys like him before. In a year he won't have a bit of it left. Seems like a waste."
"I give him a couple months actually. He will either be fabulously wealthy or broke before the year is done. But I'm giving him a shot at it."
"You might consider talking to the Agapitos and asking them to keep you in mind if they start any new ventures." His uncle suggested. "They are very well thought of in their profession I'm told and they don't suffer some of the exposure which comes with being unprotected others might suffer." He explained it by looking pointedly at John.
"Funny you should bring it up." Ton Agapito said. "We have been talking with the Drs. Singh and they suggest some of the new theory she has formed will be implemented in a practical way using nano. She indicated the thing I wondered about, the importance of meeting his son, was he is rather an unusual boy. Very advanced for his age and he also is already a practical expert, in the application of nanofabricating. We've been invited to join them later, by more conventional transport than yours and spend some time helping develop the devices, to express the findings of her research. Would you like to meet with us when we come there and see if the proposals seem worthy of your financial support?"
"Yes," he agreed. "It sounds like a fine opportunity. The Drs. Singh you say?"
"Yes, they agreed to your idea and wed yesterday."
"While I have everybody here," Eddie said tentatively, "my boss wanted me to talk to the Head of Security on II and see what he knows and feels, about the situation with the Rock. If we get our ride tomorrow I'm running out of time to see him. Do any of you know the man? Would it be a problem with any of you, if I went by and asked to speak with him?"
John looked uncomfortable. "We don't exactly work on the same side of the street.
Because he is new we're getting to know the man ourselves, mostly by observing what he does, but just as your uncle suggested earlier today, there are people on opposite sides that are still honorable. Perhaps you will help us take the measure of the man, if you do approach him. He's a professional spy also you know."
"That's what my boss said."
Justine toyed with his coffee cup and got so visibly upset the rest of them knew there was some problem. He started to say something and faltered. They just waited on him to get back his composure and speak.
"The USNA is going to take the Rock," Justine declared flatly. "They have plans to lock down M3 and have it under control a couple weeks before the Rock gets here. Then they were going to basically nationalize the Rock. I was going to tell Eddie to pack up and not be on M3 when it happens. But I owe you," he nodded at the Agapitos and John, "a debt of hospitality and I couldn't not say anything and let you go over there into trouble."
"How do you know this?" Eddie asked. "How reliable is it?"
"This is the word all the way from the top. The fix is in with the World Court and they already know they need to come to a decision which comports with reality. Which is that the US will have actual physical control of the Rock before they issue their ruling. No way do they want to look foolish and make a ruling the USNA will just laugh at, because they aren't going to give it back."
"The families might not always have the influence they want with the governments, but we always have individuals at the highest levels, who at least let us know what is going to happen. You might not think it would concern us, but we need stability as much as any other institution."
John was nodding his agreement. "We fill a niche someone is going to fill. If it were run by a few thousand small entrepreneurs, there would be so much more fighting for territory and market,the public chaos would be much worse than anything we allow to happen. You see it sometimes when there are new groups who try to break into the drug market. You get all kinds of undesirable publicity in the media over it. We can't exactly hire PR to spin our side of it you know."
Eddie had never thought of it that way. The lesser of evils. It still didn't make him want to take a share in the family business.
"Should I go talk to the man then? Or do you think there's no point?"
"This is your home turf," Justine offered, looking at the Filipinos. "You have any objection if he goes and has a nice talk-talk with the Security Chief?"
"Not as long as he leaves our name out of it," John specified. "I take it you have a lot of experience in being discrete," he said. Looking between Justine and Eddie.
"You have no idea," Eddie said. "I go home for Christmas and the dinner table looks like the wanted page on the FBI site. Then next morning I
get up bright and early, put my shield in my pocket and go back to work."
"OK then we'll call right now and get you an appointment," John offered. "And we'll walk you there, in case our Chinese friends have figured out you are connected with the doctors. Maybe you folks would like to come along and make sure we take good care of your boy?" He asked Justine. "Probably confuse the hell out of the Chinese to see us strolling along all friendly like. With a bit of luck they might go home to figure it all out."
* * *
April was thrilled with her new space suit. She had never owned one custom made before. The few times she had been out, she had rented a sized suit and twice done the drill to put on an emergency suit. Those were way too big for her even with all the adjusting straps pulled up tight. This suit was still stock parts, she didn't need anything custom machined, being within the size limits for which they made standard limb and torso sub-units, but each was matched to her measurements and assembled. An uncustomized size six suit, had always been a bit long in the arm and short in the leg for her. This was perfect. It was a combo suit. A hard shell from the shoulders down to about the end of the ribs and a hard girdle around the hips with a seat built inside for the buttocks. So when she sat in the seat of the scooter it would clamp on the girdle and the padding would be inside not outside. Also there was a backup harness, but the main restraint was the seat latching directly onto the suit.
The arms and legs were soft except for elbow and knee pads and it had two pairs of both gloves and boots. Heavy ones for outside work and contact with cold metal and finer gloves with more dexterity were worn for piloting and fine repair work. A control in the helmet collar changed exterior color and reflectivity. She had it set for a glossy bright blue today. There was also an armor over-helmet for outside work, which had shades and headlamps. There were a couple very weak fine vernier jets, for orienting one's self but for much movement a jet pack had to be clamped on the hip girdle.
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