"Oh no," Myat said, alarmed. "Gold is not something freely traded here right now. It makes you a target. It isn't even safe to wear your good jewelry in public. I'd...that is, if I had gold, I'd want to move it off Earth, not send it down. We have need of Australian dollars if that is convenient. We have need of EuroMarks now and then, but since they are a depreciating asset now we acquire them as close to the need as possible."
"I'll have a courier deliver cash," Huian promised. "He'll have it in a case, and it will open to the code I'm showing you on the screen right now." Huian scribbled it and displayed it to the camera.
"Oh good. I thought you might send a bank cheque," Myat said.
"And Myat, if you should get gold you want held safely off world, I can send the same courier and have it lifted here, or to Luna, and held securely for you," Huian offered, on the spur of the moment.
Myat looked at her carefully and took time to phrase the question.
"If we put gold on deposit through you, to whom is it entrusted?"
"I have two banks that will take it on deposit from me. Both have different clearing rights with Earth systems, but neither are subject to a Earth official walking in and demanding their data or physically closing them down. They both send metal held on account to Central on the moon, where it is held kilometers deep, safe even from nuclear bombardment. Your deposit would be commingled in one of my accounts, and I would be personally responsible for it to you, just like my accounts with you. The gold would be entrusted to me. All my business with you will be kept in a moleskin notebook on my desk. In the event of my death my husband would be entrusted to make good my obligations, or his business partners if he should also pass. Always responsible individuals, never any public company."
"That's what I wanted to hear. We trust individuals, not faceless corporate entities. I'll inform my mother of this conversation. So she is aware the service is available."
"Thank you, dear. Call anytime you wish, but we are on Greenwich time you know," Huian said, and disconnected. She sat there looking at the blank screen a bit. She hadn't planned to offer that to Myat. It just seemed opportune from her reaction about receiving gold. It certainly wasn't the problem here it was there. Perhaps it went a bit beyond what her husband was expecting, but no need to mention it. After all he was more concerned with her putting money out on gainful deposit.
It occurred to her on further thought, that perhaps she had just founded a bank, but Home had no laws forbidding her from doing so. Maybe not a bank, she decided. She used banks. If anyone found out and pressed her about it, she'd just say she was an investment advisor. That was just as legal and sounded much more defensible, although she could see in her mind's eye the look Chen would give her if she claimed that. And if they did send her any gold, she better have some ideas ready how to put it to work. It was an interesting problem to think on...
* * *
Dr. Houghton looked pretty rough. He'd emptied himself out very thoroughly. The shuttle smelled faintly sour still, although Houghton had used the emergency bag in time, and Peter heard the ventilation fans get turned up. The crew brought some sani-wipes and an extra bag. They also quickly offered an anti-nausea drug, but even before that had a chance to work they'd suggested a mild tranquilizer too. They strapped Houghton down nice and tight. The pressure helped some feel better oriented. It reduced the false sense of falling that made some panicky. Houghton gladly accepted, not at all insulted or in denial the way some first time passengers reacted.
"Somebody should have thought to offer him the drugs starting last night," The second in command, Jacob Reynolds, told him. "Especially for somebody lifting the first time. If somebody is going to have trouble that's when it will happen. Stress makes it worse, and just being his first time is stressful."
"It's my first time too," Peter told him. "Nobody warned me either."
"I better tell Li to see to it in the future. I guess he's used to dealing with experienced crew. He shouldn't have fed the man a big breakfast either. Maybe just some fluids. Did you eat? Jacob asked.
"Egg and hot sausage on English muffins with cheese and mustard," Peter admitted, "three of them, because they were really good, but I feel fine." He was also tethered to the back of his seat by one relaxed arm like he'd been doing it for years. He wasn't oriented the same as Jacob, which was enough to trigger a mild panic and nausea in some new passengers.
Jacob shrugged. "You're a natural. We get those too. He seems under control now. I'm going back to my flight station." He twisted his toes under a take-hold and pushed off toward the front. As he drifted away Peter heard him mutter softly, under his breath – "Mustard?"
* * *
"You will be happy to know that the Dionysus' Chariot has successfully made orbit again from an ocean landing," Jeff informed April on com. "They should dock in about three days. We have the scientist who should equip us to receive passenger traffic again in safety. We also lifted about as much beef as we've seen in the last three months, and dearer even to your heart, a limited quantity of very nice Sunda Hejo. I'm willing to split a sixty kilo bag with you."
"I have half that left," April admitted. "I'll stop rationing it if we're going to be getting it regularly. So, yeah, I'll take it and be happy, if you can really spare that much without shorting somebody."
"I can. Use some of it for bribes and to gain favor with people if you want. In a year there won't be any shortage and people will forget how badly they missed it," Jeff suggested.
"I do have a few people I owe favors," April admitted. "I'll take you out to dinner at the Fox and Hare, since I can't bribe you with coffee."
"Your company is what I value. Even if we stay in and gnaw on survival bars," Jeff told her.
April was amazed. That was downright eloquent for Jeff, almost romantic with better word choices. He might be socializing late after all.
"But I have an elegant new dress I'd like to show off. You'd be polite and nod a lot, but not really care about a dress or fashion at all, except to be nice to me," April said.
"This is true. But I do enjoy watching other women's faces when they don't think you can see. You incite amazing jealousy even I can read. It's fun," he allowed. "Then I see them grow cross, and their husbands or dates look puzzled and have no idea why."
"I think it's all in your head," April said. "But whatever motivates you to take me. Pick me up here at 1800, and we'll be able to catch the first act," April suggested.
"Do you want a cart?" Jeff asked. "Is your dress long enough to drag?"
"No silly, I wouldn't buy something like that. I'd just as soon wear high heels." She rolled her eyes and waved at the camera, disconnecting silently.
* * *
"Mom and I are going to have the LET done," Frank informed Lindsey. "We don't have to go anywhere else, like you used to need to do. But the treatment still ties you up for a few days. Now, if we need to, we'll both go at the same time, and shut the shop down for a couple weeks while we get the life extension therapy. We understand it leaves you tired for a few days too."
"I'm glad to hear that. You guys are some of my favorite people. You've been so kind to me. I'm glad you should be around for a long time," Lindsey said.
"We've grown fond of you too. But what I wanted to propose is a business arrangement. At least a temporary one. We thought that it would not be too much of a burden to keep the tailor shop open, and take turns at the treatment, if we had a little help," Frank said.
"Oh, sure. I'd be happy to do that," Lindsey said.
"We'd pay you of course, but it would be full time for a couple weeks. We know you have other commitments now. So think carefully about that before you repeat the offer you made just now. We never stay busy every moment. So if you wanted to sit and sketch when it's slow that's fine. But if we get customers in you'd have to drop that and lend a hand. You've seen a lot of what we do, but there's still things to learn," Frank assured her.
"I'm sure there are. I have nothing that has a hard
deadline. I just don't do that to myself. So set up your appointments for you and Cindy. Whenever you need me I'll work," Lindsey promised.
"Are you going to have it done?" Frank wondered. "The earlier you start, the better, a lot of folks think."
"Sometime. I'm not emancipated. My mom...My mom is much more reasonable than when we came up here. But sometimes things still freak her out, and I'm not very good at predicting what. All the more so whenever my dad is away. I've kind of held off saying anything about it. She doesn't know how much money I've saved from my drawings. I get the idea she still sees it as a hobby. So she might flip out just to know how much I have in my account. She might even try to say it's too much for me to be responsible to handle. Even if I did earn it. Let's just wait a little longer for right now," Lindsey said.
* * *
"I may have achieved relaxation," Barak said. He certainly looked relaxed. If he were any more relaxed he might look dead. He wondered if Deloris set it up so she was first back to duty? If so she was smart, because she looked a lot perkier than he felt. Alice did too for that matter. None of them drank to excess, but where did they get the idea that the women were the weaker sex? They both seemed to push through fatigue and the stress of uncertainty better than he could. Barak stopped and made a note of that in his data for Jeff. Some idiot would read that and think – Well then make all female starship crews. He'd have to cut that line of reasoning off right away in his recommendations. However, he needed to head the idea off in a way that wouldn't offend anybody. Alice and Deloris were more experienced at anticipating idiocy, and he was picking up a lot of their thinking.
Deloris had cut herself off drinking anything after the first of two shifts they took off. That was kind of her again, to give him a little longer to drink before he had to get it out of his system to go on duty. He'd only had a beer this half day, but it was still nice to be able to do so.
Deloris was putting the last of the cold shrimp out, and she'd nap soon before her shift. That started in almost six hours. He looked to his left. Alice was still asleep by the inside bulkhead. The crash net pulled across her legs to keep her from drifting. She was sleeping very deeply, from her slow breathing and stillness. He pushed off and rolled away carefully not to disturb her. He went over to the table and took a seat, hooking his toes under the bar that allowed him to skip a seat belt.
"Let her sleep?" Deloris signed in helmet talk, to avoid speaking out loud.
"Yeah, put a few in the fridge for her later," he signed back. She nodded, and did so, closing the door while holding the handle pulled so the latch wouldn't make a loud clack.
They enjoyed the last of the shrimp in companionable silence. Alice had told them that they still had some nice steaks for the next break. They'd even found a small bottle of champagne they were saving for the last break. Deloris put the trash away carefully, pushing a stray glob back with a napkin.
She came over and carefully cleaned his mouth with the folded over napkin like a little kid and kissed him thoroughly, sitting in his lap facing him, ankles tucked under the seat.
He looked a question and glanced at Alice, sleeping.
"She has you all next shift," Deloris signed.
"No, I mean...We'll wake her if we go back to the bunk," Barak signed.
"You're fine where you are," Deloris said, amused. As usual, she was right.
Chapter 9
Jeff didn't say anything when April let him in. He just drew a deep breath and stared. His mouth hanging open.
"That's the sweetest thing you've ever not said about how I look," April teased.
He nodded, uninterested in arguing, still stunned silent. April told him she was having a dress made from an illustration in one of Lindsey's drawings. That hadn't prepared him for this. He'd seen a few of Lindsey's drawings, but had no idea she was this creative. It was elegant.
"The emerald and diamond earrings are perfect with it," Jeff said when he regained the power of speech. Did you get those made when you went down to Earth? Jeff asked.
"These were a gift and an inheritance to my brother Bob from our maternal grandmother. He left them to me. Fortunately he wasn't wearing them when his ship was lost. They aren't exactly everyday wear," April admitted.
"Ah, then they're real stones," Jeff deduced from all that.
"Yes, and I've never had them appraised," April said, before he could ask.
"You shouldn't, ever," he urged her.
"That's not what I expected from you. Why not?" April asked.
"If some graceless person asks what they are worth, you can just shrug and dismiss it as something with which you have never concerned yourself," he said, with a haughty dismissive gesture. "That sort of pretentious oaf will always be running verification software on you to pick apart later, and while he might make a show of being indifferent to wealth, it will really rattle him to see you mean it."
"You have a little mean streak in you. Did you know that?" April asked Jeff.
"For that sort of person? You bet!" Jeff agreed. "I love trolling them."
Gunny wasn't home, and they had no reason to wait, so Jeff didn't even get to sit down. In the corridor April seemed oblivious to it, but several people looked over their shoulder at her long after passing. A few stopped and looked with that still stance people took when they were capturing pix on their spex. Jeff was pretty sure April would be on the social and gossip boards tonight even before they finished supper. He wouldn't say anything, because those sites just irritated her.
He was glad April had mentioned wearing something special, or he might have been in baggy pants and a hoodie T. That was his everyday uniform. He wasn't stylish, he didn't even know what was currently considered stylish right now, but he had on moon boots that went with anything, a nice pair of Earthie style slacks and a silk shirt. It had real buttons which were a nice anachronistic touch. But stylish or not at least he didn't look like a slob.
When they entered the Fox and Hare the maître d' Phillip blinked twice. That was the equivalent of an uncovered open mouth, and a shocked look for most folks. He was...reserved.
"Miss Lewis," he said, happily. "There is still a table by the stage if you'd like."
"Mr. Detweiler," April said, with a nod, determined to be just as formal if he insisted on it. "We'd much rather a small table by the bulkhead with fold downs, so we can sit side by side."
Phillip handed them off to a server April had never met, who took them to the table and left them with single sheet daily menus that had replaced the fancier permanent menus when supplies got short. Jeff looked inexplicably happy with the menu.
"Something unexpected there?" April asked, reading the offerings.
"The menu itself," Jeff explained. "It's on our paper from Central."
When April examined it closer, and felt it, she did see it was silkier than most paper. But she'd have never noticed if Jeff hadn't pointed it out.
"Are you going to recycle it?" April wondered.
Jeff scrunched up his eyebrows and considered it. "Probably not. There is no infrastructure in place to handle it. I'm not sure how hard it would be to remove the inks. The recycled paper might have a grey tint. And there are still Earth sourced papers and packaging that would get mixed with most of it. People are too lazy to separate things. It does get recycled, but just as a general source of carbon. But I will put out a note that if anybody wants to save up a volume of it we'll buy it back to use in card stock and plastic filler for packaging. Say a tenth metric ton minimum. The way things look now, freight to the moon is going to be lighter than what is exported. So standby freight to return scrap paper, or other things, will be cheap for awhile."
"I see things on the menu that have to be from Central too," April decided. "Spinach salad, fried tofu, pickled beets as a side dish. Potatoes? Is that a Central Export? Potatoes are mostly water and really heavy to lift to orbit."
"Yeah, they just started raising potatoes, and we're going to freeze dry them as sliced and diced, but unt
il we have the equipment made to do that, we're selling whole potatoes as a luxury item. They're about this big," Jeff said, making a circle with his thumb and index finger, "and about two dollars Australian each potato, since they're not nearly as expensive to lift from the moon. They're good with the soy based, fake sour cream," he recommended. "I see that on the menu and it must be ours too."
Their waitress arrived to take their order. April got the roast whole potatoes, with soy sour cream and chives, scrambled eggs from whole powder, with freeze dried mushrooms, and sausage patties. Jeff got two grilled cheese sandwiches with bacon bits, and a spinach salad with vinegar and oil. Just to add some zing it had a sliced radish from the moon too.
"I sure miss having big hunks of beef and whole lobsters," April admitted.
"We brought some grilling cuts up," Jeff admitted, "but your dad asked they be sold to the cafeteria. He was willing to pay a reasonable price for them, and said it was an issue of morale. If they were sold off to just private clubs like this, and the price jacked way up, it would cause more troubles than a steak is worth."
"I hear you, I'll take your word for it. I have no idea how that discontent would manifest itself," April said. "Everybody who pays taxes has a vote in the assembly."
"I believe his concern was that if people feel they are treated unfairly they may introduce measures when the Assembly is called, to correct it. Once you start making such fairness laws there never seems to be any end of it, and when they don't accomplish what people intended. It just makes it worse. What if someone proposed all imported items not for your personal use had to be put up for public bid? If somebody hasn't had a steak for a year, and hears you can get one at the Fox and Hare, as long as you are willing to pay five hundred dollars USNA for it, might not such a law seem 'fair'?" Jeff asked.
"Yeah, but they'd just pre-sell the steaks before they were lifted. You'd be the owner of steak number 138364 before it ever left the ground," April said.
They Said It Would Be Easy (April Book 7) Page 12