"If you become my employee you wouldn't compete with me while working for me. That's firm custom. If you pirated our project you'd find people wouldn't do business with you on Home. Of course Earthies don't care. Besides the security of continued employment, I do extra things for an employee I wouldn't do for a contractor," Jeff added.
"Seems like you are already betting I'll be an employee. You already got me com and a cafeteria subscription," Houghton said.
"That's insignificant," Jeff said, waving it away. "I did that so you wouldn't have to waste time attending to these details when I know how to get them out of the way in minutes. That just helps you get up to speed on our project right away."
"Thank you. That's generous. What other factors do you think I should consider in my choosing to be short term or an employee?"
"Well, if you are a contractor I'm going to offer you weekly wages in USNA dollars, paid each Friday for the week before. I can get you a bank card for USNA dollars, but it will still have the five percent user fee on transactions just like other Earth issued cards. No help for that. I still have income in dollars and need to use it somewhere."
"I have news for you, my card I brought up with me charges seven percent. Five percent was before the flu. Everybody has hiked it recently," Houghton told him.
Jeff nodded. "They may charge that on new accounts then. If you are an employee I will offer you a Solar a quarter at full face value, no premium, paid in advance. I'm also prepared to offer you a place to sleep if you are an employee. It will save you considerable funds until you can establish yourself here. Not a shared hot slot, but an airbed in half G, and access to a bath. I have room at my office for that. It may sound Spartan to an Earthie. There is no privacy or a large area to relax like a living room, but it's a significant benefit here. That's how I'm living myself right now."
"That's an advantage, the Solars, beside being in advance?" Houghton asked. He seemed dubious.
"I'm working to make sure Solars, issued by the System Trade bank are more stable than any Earth currency. In my opinion, if you save back your wages in USNA dollars they may depreciate more than any return you can get for them. Check the news feeds and see what you think on the matter."
"Do I have to decide today?" Houghton asked.
"By no means. I'd like a decision by the time you are ready to leave quarantine," Jeff allowed. "I don't see how which you choose makes any difference in your getting started on the project."
That made Houghton feel better, he wasn't being rushed into anything.
"What is the pay rate as an independent, paid in USNA dollars?" Houghton asked.
"I'm offering ten thousand a week plus your air and water fees. If you want, I'll open an account for you to start establishing yourself here with the Private Bank of Home. You can speak with Irwin there and see if you can slowly move some of your North American assets here. He can take your cash in deposit if it's not a huge amount. Both his bank and mine have recently limited our dealings in a number of Earth currencies."
"Wait...You have a bank?" Houghton asked. "I think you said the Trade Bank? But you are sending me to this Irwin at the Private Bank of Home to handle my business?"
"The System Trade Bank. Which is a bank I hold with some partners. It is also the bank that issues Solar coins. However I see too many possibilities for conflicts of interest, to want to do my employees' banking for them. Better to separate that, and Irwin has a much better relationship with the Fed system. Irwin Hall has a better chance of dealing with North American funds for you."
"How can I send cash funds to him?" Houghton asked.
"There are a variety of heavy gauge slide-seal plastic bags in the desk there. If you put your funds inside I'd be happy to take them to Irwin. There is a bottle of disinfectant in the entry and I'd spray the bag inside and out. He's dealt with matters far more complicated than a little wet money. Or, if you wish, there are bonded couriers listed on com to come convey it."
"If I can't trust you I'm in trouble anyway," Houghton said with a wry expression. "I'd like you to do that for me. Here's twelve thousand in five hundred dollar bills." He handed Jeff a small bunch of bills folded over in half.
"It had to be hard, making such a quick decision, and leaving everything behind," Jeff acknowledged, putting the bills in a bag for him."If it helps gain your trust, be aware Home is like a very small town. Everybody knows everybody else with who they do business. You can't do like on Earth and scam and lie, and then move a few states away and start over again. If you treat people badly it catches up with you really fast. The incentive really is to treat people well. If a project goes bad or a client is short of funds most folks will stretch themselves to help them, because even customers are not disposable. If you wonder about anyone ask. If somebody has a bad reputation people won't hide it."
"You lack libel laws too?" Houghton asked.
"Yes, but we do have the duel. It's worth remembering. Even if you can't recommend someone it's wise not to frame it in nasty insulting terms. And that is one of the things the Assembly has ruled on. If you refuse to meet a person challenging you then they will banish you off home without any hesitation at all. Or of course satisfy them by other means."
"You're kidding..." Houghton looked dismayed.
"No, deadly serious. So far every challenge has been withdrawn or the satisfaction fulfilled. Sooner or later we'll have one go to the end."
"Why?"
"You lived in North America. Did you ever feel something was unjust?" Jeff asked.
"I'm here and safe, and I still gag on saying so," Houghton said quietly.
Jeff nodded. "And what could you do about it?"
"Nothing. Nothing unless you were willing to throw your comfortable life away on a gesture," Houghton said. "There are paid snoops everywhere and plenty of volunteers anxious to curry favor. You don't dare say a thing. The more so at a college. Why do you think I wanted out?"
"But there's a price to all this, isn't there? Unless you have a camera on something, and a camera watching the camera that watches the camera...the wreckers will find some way to bust it or paint it or build a fire on anything they don't like. That's what our people down there are telling us anyway. How long can a cop car sit unattended before it is trashed?" Jeff asked.
"They tend to send two cars on almost any call now. With two cops in each car. I can remember as a kid seeing police out on the expressway patrolling alone. And they weren't armored with the mirror windows either."
"We don't have that here. People have an outlet for their rage, and we try not to provoke them in the first place," Jeff told him. "We had our first petition before the Assembly to remove a man's right to carry a gun in public a few days ago. That was the first ever, and the fellow accepted it pretty graciously. He was given the choice to accept it or leave Home."
"What was he doing? Did he make threats?" Houghton wondered.
"He had three negligent discharges," Jeff said. "The last one wounded a visiting shuttle pilot. The shuttle pilot got treated and left on his scheduled time, so I have no idea if that will still come back on him. The man is one of those clumsy fellows who shouldn't be around any dangerous machinery. Maybe not even a kitchen knife, if the stories that filtered down to me are true."
"That seems reasonable. But the entire habitat has to take time to consider every minor case that a judge would hear on Earth? How long can that go on?" Houghton wondered.
"We've only had maybe twelve such cases about individuals in the last four years," Jeff said. "Most of the time when the Assembly meets it is for considering the budget, or voting matters of state, like whether to go to war. It's sustainable unless our population triples or quadruples. Oh, and not everybody votes. Just the taxpayers. Some things might surprise you. We didn't vote on moving the hab from Leo to L2. That was basically an emergency call by both Security and Mitsubishi."
"Oh, so if I skip paying taxes I don't get a vote?" Houghton said sarcastically.
"Exactly,"
Jeff agreed.
"I was being...facetious." Houghton said, quickly.
"Oh, I know. I saw your expression. But you're still correct. If you volunteer to pay taxes you get a vote. Not only on matters of state, and problems put to the Assembly like the clumsy cowboy, but you get to accept or reject the annual budget line by line. You can hardly object to paying for it if you had a direct voice in creating it. And if you decide you can't pay you can withdraw," Jeff added.
"And what if I vote and then can't pay?" Houghton asked. "Do you have an IRS? Will they come garnishee my wages or seize something?"
"You get taken off the voters roll and they won't let you back on until you pay up," Jeff said. "If somebody told me to start taking things out of your wages I'd start a new rebellion."
"That's crazy," Houghton said. "Is it a small tight group that runs everything, because the rest don't volunteer to pay and just let it slide by?"
"Believe it or not, we're running above ninety percent voters. Mr. Muños runs our voting software. He could tell you the exact percentage. We've had such an influx of people it's hard to keep track. Wouldn't you like to direct how your tax money is spent if you had the opportunity?"
"Yes, but I think I better wait and see how it actually works," he decided.
"There is a public record of all the Assemblies. It's a bit much to wade through, but it's there. I believe it's accessible from Earth, as far as we care. Most of the Earthie countries seem to block it pretty effectively. I doubt they want the idea of voluntary taxation promulgated..."
Houghton laughed almost hysterically. "I'm sure they don't."
* * *
"Mr. Hall? I am Chen's wife Huian. He said he was going to set up a separate account for me to do some independent investment, outside our household accounts. Has he done that yet?"
"Yes Ma'am. I have your cards and numbers for you. I was just waiting for you or your husband to pick them up." Irwin looked at Eric Pennington standing behind her, pushing a freight cart, and looking terribly amused. The kid was a customer and very bright. He had several little businesses, including a courier service. Anything that tickled him so deeply was worrisome. Was this some sort of elaborate joke being set up for him?
"Good. Then I'd like to take possession of those, and if you'd help me set up my pad to do payments I'd appreciate that. You do accept gold for deposit don't you?" Huian asked.
When Irwin looked askance at the cart Huian felt obligated to add: "Although it's uncoined..."
"That is no problem at all," Irwin assured her quickly. "Why don't we take it to the vault to unload," he suggested. "Where we'll have some privacy."
After Huian swiped Eric's pad for the courier fee, and they were both gone, he walked back in the vault and looked at eight London Good Delivery Bars, parked near the ends of his shelves so they didn't sag. Huian left him the cases too, for future use, standing on end beside his shelves. He was still a little shocked and it took him awhile to recover. When he did, he went back to his desk to make a call.
"Jeff? Irwin here. I was just wondering how large an order for Solars you'd need, to give me a break on the coinage fees? I appreciate you deserve some seigniorage, but if I can offer an economy of scale I should get a deal, shouldn't I?"
"Yeah, I'm flexible. What are you proposing?" Jeff asked Irwin.
"I'd like a mixed bag, but more of the smaller size than usual. I know they cost more to make."
"Yeah, but give me a number. How many ounces?" Jeff asked. He seemed distracted by something else to the side, looking at a different screen Irwin would guess.
"Let's say eight hundred ounces for a starting point," Irwin suggested. "If that isn't enough tell me and we can adjust it upward."
Jeff's image seemed frozen, like the com might have crashed and locked up, and after a little bit Irwin said, "Hello? Are you still there Jeff?" to his staring image.
Chapter 11
The yard manager stood and stared, unbelieving, at the boarded up ports and hastily patched holes.
"We had a spot of trouble," Li admitted, walking along after the man as he continued along the deck looking at the damage.
"I'm concerned my yard may be considered complicit in this 'spot of trouble' if the authorities come around looking for a boat full of bullet holes. For all I know you have been engaged in piracy," the manager said. "Unless you filed a police report already, as the victimized party?"
"Actually we were threatened. And they intended to board us. But it happened far off in the North Pacific. Not even in this hemisphere, so there is no report with any authorities you could call. I don't think anyone is looking for us. If they are, well, it didn't happen in Australia's jurisdiction. In fact, it happened in international waters."
The man looked at him hard. "And what of this other boat? What happened to it? Did you manage to outrun it?" he inquired.
"Best not to ask about that," Li admitted.
"Tell me why I should get involved in this massive...can of worms?" he asked.
"We can pay up front in gold," Li said.
The shipyard manager stood frowning, looking down at a cluster of thirty caliber holes awhile.
"That must have been one hell of a hail storm," he said.
* * *
"I'd much rather you call me Jeff," he pleaded. "Mr. Singh makes me want to look over my shoulder for my father."
"I've never called my boss by his given name," Houghton said, uncomfortable.
"Alright, if it's formality you crave. I'm named peer of the Sovereign of Central. I'm Lord Singh, and you may address me properly," Jeff invited.
"You're kidding me. Nobody has titles like that anymore."
"Would you say that to the King of England?" Jeff asked. "George the sixth, by the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland and of His other Realms and Territories King, Head of the Commonwealth, Defender of the Faith?"
"Jeff it is...and you may address me as Walter," he allowed, "but not Walt. I hate Walt."
"Fine. Now this ceramic plate, we can have it late tomorrow. I'll have two made, just in case we screw one up, so it won't take eighteen hours to make another. They won't be all that expensive because it's mostly alumina."
"Eighteen hours?" Walter asked, big eyed.
"He has a crucible being printed on the medium size machine right now," Jeff said. "I can't ask the man to scrap another customers job in the middle and start over later. I mean, I could, but it doesn't seem reasonable. You do that and pretty soon you have a reputation as a pain in the butt. Even if you're willing to pay extra and cover the cost of his job being run late."
"No, you don't understand. I'd have expected this to take a couple weeks to be done back home. Even with high powered permissions to put the red tape aside. It just doesn't happen in a day."
"How do they ever get anything done?" Jeff asked.
"Jeff, sometimes it is a mystery to me too. I suspect we are going to have this made and assembled in a couple weeks," Walter said.
"Ha! We need it last week. I want to have it assembled in a week, and test it that very day."
"Where are you getting the viruses to test it?" Walter asked.
Jeff looked stricken. "That's something I hadn't considered. I better go talk to Dr. Lee."
* * *
"My news bots have gathered a bunch of stories in the past two weeks that have a nasty common theme upon analysis," April told Jeff. "First, there was that program awhile back, where the head of Italy's Health Agency, Daniele Baistrocchi, implied the Great Flu came from Life Extension Therapy and maybe carried to Earth by people who got treated on Home. Now, I have a good dozen sermons by different preachers on the religious channels. Normally TV preachers hardly ever trip my net bot parameters. But all of them are making vague references to 'the sickness of the heavens' and the 'arrogance of those who have forsaken the Earth'. There's a couple more phrases, but you get the idea. When a whole bunch of people who normally wouldn't politely say good morning to each other
start using exactly the same code phrases it's no coincidence, it's orchestrated propaganda. I'm just worried. Is this a prelude to something?"
"It doesn't make sense," Jeff agreed. "I don't understand why they would need to increase public fear and rejection of life extension therapy. All their polls, and all our secretly conducted samplings, indicate the vast majority of the public is already convinced LET will drive you nuts, give you cancer, cause your spouse to leave you, and leave you at risk to catch the horrible flu. I don't know why they would need the extra bonus threat of damnation on top of the horrific immediate effects everybody believes."
"Maybe support for military action again?" April worried.
Jeff thought about that for awhile. He cracked his neck, and sipped his coffee. "This Indonesian stuff isn't half bad," he said.
April just nodded and ignored that. He sometimes muttered non sequiturs while most of his mind was off in some strange place she didn't understand, processing.
"Again, it doesn't make sense," Jeff said. "The demographic targeted is powerless to change policy. If it was somehow aimed at high ranking military, that I'd understand. Every military officer who can tie his own shoelaces is firmly opposed to bothering us again. Every time they've tried the number convinced it costs more than the reward goes up. I think we have a pretty strong majority. Even among nations we never touched, they seem to learn from other's mistakes. If anything they learn easier from others mistakes, because their own pride and a natural desire for retribution is absent."
They Said It Would Be Easy (April Book 7) Page 15