April 6: And What Goes Around

by Mackey Chandler

  "Yes, Miss Lewis. Festus has to wear the sommelier's hat too. We're too small still to keep one busy full time, and their cellar here is rather small compared to many Earthside establishments." He thought on it a moment... "In truth it's small compared to some private collections."

  "Have him come speak with me when he has time," April requested.

  "Certainly, is everything satisfactory?" Jesse barely gave an eyebrow twitch of concern since April didn't seem unhappy.

  "Everything is lovely. I just need his expertise."

  It wasn't long before April saw somebody else take over at the bar and Festus disappeared. She thought he'd gone on break or even off shift until he suddenly popped back up beside her table standing at attention like he was going to be presented a medal, or stood before a firing squad. Looking at him she realized he'd gone to the kitchen and removed his apron, cleaned up a bit, combed his hair and put on a fresh shirt. She'd never spoken to the man so why had he gone to all that trouble?

  "Miss Lewis? Jesse said you'd like to speak with me."

  April scooted over a little and patted the seat beside her. "Just April is fine. You needn't be so formal with me. This won't take long but sit down a minute please. I'd rather our conversation not attract attention. With you standing there and the pianist between numbers we're the most obvious thing happening in the whole room."

  "I think the help are invisible to most people," he objected. He did sit however, but not too close. April moved closer because she intended to speak quietly. He was surprisingly thin close up. She hadn't noticed from a distance. The long sleeves covered it a bit, and his face didn't look thin, it just sort of long and hound-doggy. He seemed uncomfortable so she got to the point rather than torture the poor fellow.

  "The middle-aged couple toward the stage and a bit to our right seem familiar to me. I think they are Spanish. I'd like to send them drinks and I thought it would be a nice surprise to send something Spanish. They had wine already with dinner." April looked and the woman's glass was gone and his had just a bit left. "Could you suggest something else to send to their table as a gift?"

  He looked much more comfortable now that the conversation was on ground he knew. "Spanish liqueurs tend to be very strongly flavored and people usually love them or hate them. So that's a risky thing to send to their table if you don't know their tastes. We only have one that has a strong flavor of sloe berries. It will just kill your palate for anything subtle after.

  "But we have a Spanish sparkling wine made by the same process as Champagne. It's called Cava and we have both Freixenet and a few bottles of Codorníu. The ones we have are just slightly sweet and very appropriate for after dinner. People buy the Freixenet because it has a fancy bottle. However, I like the Codorníu. It's served very cold and we have it chilled and ready if you like."

  "That would be perfect. Please send a bottle to their table and tell them it is from Dame April Lewis." She discretely handed a folded hundred EuroMark bill to Festus below the table and he took it readily with nod of thanks.

  The staff waited until the pianist finished the next number before wheeling a Champagne bucket to their table. It was a Magnum. She hadn't thought to ask. That was a lot for two people. The man, Ferdinando or whatever his real name was looked surprised and then amused. After a few words with Jesse he looked at April and made a gesture and face to indicate the Magnum was huge. Then he waved her over to their table.

  Jesse already had a chair and was putting it beside Ferdinando opposite his wife. By the time April got there and sat down Jesse had the cork out and presented it. Ferdinando waved it off and after a taste had Jesse pour for all of them. It was new to April and pretty good. The pianist returned then. Jesse stashed the bottle back in the ice under a serviette, and they put off any conversation. She was pounding out some jazz loud enough that April would have to be rudely loud to shout over. Then she finished and took another break. Jesse returned to refill their flutes and April leaned over and apologized to Ferdinando.

  "I didn't think to ask them what size of the Codorníu they had. It might have looked like I sent the Magnum to pressure you to invite me over. I didn't intend that."

  "My dear, you worry entirely too much about looking too forward. I've seen pushy in every form and magnitude. Some to dwarf this bottle. You radiate neither the self importance nor the devious smoothness of the obnoxious. You also sorely underestimate my capacity for Champagne when it is this good. I am however used to drinking it with little sweets to nibble. I wonder if they have something?"

  "They have baklava," April offered. "Everything else is big or messier and needs to be eaten with a fork or spoon."

  "That will serve," Ferdinando agreed

  "They have the duel here, dear," Sancha said from his other side. "Don't let a Frenchman hear you call it Champagne or we'll be getting up at the crack of dawn."

  "Is there any real rule that you can't sleep in and try to kill each other at a decent hour?" Ferdinando asked.

  "That's a really interesting question," April allowed, looking surprised. "I think it's just tradition. I admit when I called a fellow out I just automatically told him he could apologize or meet me in the morning."

  Ferdinando looked at her closely to make sure he wasn't being played... "And what terrible thing was this fellow doing to drive you to put your life on the line?"

  "It was more like putting his life on the line," April insisted. "You had to be there to understand how we got to that point." She could feel herself blushing and just hated that. It also didn't satisfy Ferdinando, who wasn't taking that as an answer, just silently giving her the old fish eye...

  "This fellows body guard jostled me but it escalated from an earlier disagreement," April started...

  "Yeees...?" Ferdinando prompted her.

  "As a matter of fact, he was littering," she admitted. It sounded so stupid now.

  "Well, I can see why the hallways are so spotless," Ferdinando said.

  Jesse delivered a tray of various shapes of baklava. After Ferdinando selected April got one with pistachios.

  "Corridors actually," April corrected.

  "Call them anything she wants, dear," Sancha counseled, laying a restraining hand on his arm. He nodded a grave acknowledgment to her that it seemed a wise course not to argue with April.

  "It's not like that," April objected. "I haven't - shot anyone - in ages," she temporized.

  "And I'm sure your restraint is appreciated," Ferdinando acknowledged. Which didn't sound sincere somehow. "You called yourself Dame. We'd say Doña. Do you limit the use of the duel here to the upper class as the English did?"

  "No, that question came up before the Assembly already," April said. "A woman from Central on the moon wanted to challenge a resident of Home to a duel. They considered the question and the overwhelming argument advanced was that the duel is a fundamental right not a privilege granted by the state. There were issues. This particular challenge seemed unjust to many, but they allowed it rather than lose or limit the custom."

  "That is interesting. Who eventually won the duel, and how did these people favoring it feel after the fact?" Ferdinando asked.

  "The lady called off the match. So far every duel called has resulted in a yield, an apology, or the person decided to accept exile rather than yield or fight. I don't doubt we will see a duel eventually with an ending everybody sees as a bad. But it was generally agreed the duel addresses things the law doesn't deal with well. The Assembly has made very little law so far, so custom has to address many things." April stopped her explanation abruptly and was frowning.

  "You have a thought?" Ferdinando prompted her.

  "I'm trying to think how to explain, the other, you mentioned before. On Home I'm not Dame anything unless somebody calls me that as a courtesy. Or more likely is trying to get my goat, since I had a hard time accepting a title and my close friends used to tease me about it pretty hard.

  "We have no royalty or peerage on Home, all that has to do with Cent
ral on the moon. My friend Heather is the Sovereign of Central and declared some of her close friends and subjects peers. That's why they started calling me Dame Lewis.

  "Jon says I'm more like a Baronetess. I have no time or inclination to learn all the titles and differences, and Ja... uh, a friend, said they are all different in each country and changed over time anyway. What does it matter now anyway, if it isn't attached to something real like the land?"

  "Indeed, the study of titles of nobility, heraldry and your personal genealogy can be an empty exercise in self importance if it's just a vain attempt to find some way to elevate yourself with no real personal accomplishment or merit. Does your status then attach to something real as you said? If you'll forgive me please, what was happening off Earth wasn't of much interest to me until quite recently."

  "Well, my land. I have land at Central and more importantly cubic. The surface is harsh and exposed to risks. It easier to dig deep than on Earth. It isn't much benefit right now but it will be. Right now it's more obligations. I support Heather and help any way I can. We were allies long before she decided to go grab land on the moon."

  "Allies?" he asked. "At what?"

  "In business, and then when Home rebelled in war with North America. I owned the armed merchant the Happy Lewis with my brother. The hostilities started when we had to fight our way back from ISSII on the Happy. We took out the Chinese ship the Pretty as Jade and the USNA James Kelly. Later I sent the Happy to support Heather at Central. She needed it against the North Americans. They tried to invade her to arrest a bunch of her customers."

  "And, with your help, how did she resolve that?" Ferdinando asked, nibbling on a sweet.

  April blinked at his question like she didn't believe it. "You really don't know what's been going on up here do you? After they cluster bombed her landing field, she sent my ship to make a low pass and took out Armstrong's field control building and a ship with a ten kiloton weapon. They burned a hole straight through the Happy Lewis on that pass too. It's amazing we didn't lose her. She had to deal with their rover force on the ground too. But didn't use the Happy. She has... artillery.

  "That was the North Americans. Now since we moved out here, further away from the Earth, we had a dispute with the UN and the Chinese attacked Central on the way here. They put a nuke on her development and dug a huge crater for her that is going to take years to fill.

  "Just like the North Americans, none of them went home alive, so maybe they'll learn and leave her alone for awhile. So the second time with the Chinese she helped us instead of the other way around."

  "Oh my... I obviously have some catching up to do. If your friend Heather holds her nation by arms I must respect that. It's all that matters in the end. Your Heather, are you intimate with her?"

  April looked so oddly at him that Ferdinando immediately rephrased it. "Do you speak freely and informally with her?"

  "Well sure," April said. "We go back too far for that to change. Heather is all formal when she holds a court, but not between us or with Jeff."

  Ferdinando nodded. "Then you are not just Doña or Baronesa, you are Grandeza too."

  "Ha! If I run out of titles I have an old boy in Tonga who calls me Pilinsesi. Our boat captain said that means princess. I liked that better because the princess is always well regarded in fairy tales."

  Then the pianist returned so April felt she had to be quiet again, but her theme changed a bit and instead of the lively numbers of her first set she toned it down to quiet background music you could speak over discreetly.

  Sancha leaned close to her husband and April leaned in close too as it was obvious she wished to speak across him. "Might I ask why you addressed James as Jesse when you asked for the baklava?"

  "Ah – he must have been too shook-up to introduce himself to you. He's now Jesse Duval and his wife is Helen. If you knew them... in a previous life, it would be a kindness to forget that. Surely you understand?" April said, pointedly.

  "Oh dear. I didn't think to reintroduce us when I spoke to him. I'll correct that. He was acting so strangely," Sancha said.

  "What my wife isn't saying is we are not under the same pressures as Jesse and... Helen? They are actively wanted as criminals and I can see why they might feel the need to start a new life. We on the other hand were invited to retire as unsuitable persons.

  "We will never be charged with anything. That would be most uncomfortable for both the secular and religious. But one of the conditions for fading graciously away and being generously pensioned was not to raise a fuss among our peers or in the media. So we would rather not be interviewed or even the subject of paparazzi photos and speculation," Ferdinando said. It seemed a request.

  April nodded, agreeable. "I believe he was looking around after seeing you because he expected your security to snatch him away. I think they are both constantly looking over their shoulders a lot still, not sure if anyone will bother to pursue them this far. One of my uh, sources, an intelligence officer really, said things in Spain appear unsettled. It makes me ask. Did you not pick a successor?"

  "Anyone I picked would have been tainted by that fact. They are still watching everybody in Government and the churchmen closely, terrified that they will turn young. Such a terrible thing!" Neither would I give them the satisfaction. It would have been almost a blessing upon their actions. Just like your Queen Heather, let the one who can hold it snatch it. I doubt it will come to arms but it is still a contest," Ferdinando said.

  "I'm evil enough that it amuses me," Sancha admitted.

  "Well, you know all the characters and can appreciate the inside information. You should write it as a play after it all runs out," April suggested.

  Sancha looked shocked, but Ferdinando laughed heartily. "They'd deserve it," he agreed. "What goes around comes around after all."

  "Thank you for meeting me," April said. "I need to head home. I'm in the public directory. If you need any help adjusting to Home give me a call. I grew up here after all. I can be your native guide." She had a sudden urge and patted Ferdinando on the arm before standing. That was probably against some protocol with royalty, but it felt right.

  "Well, it's a refreshing change to have someone offer to help us instead of seeking favors," Ferdinando told his wife.

  "I think it was sincere. She is amusingly innocent to think that princesses lead idyllic lives," Sancha said wistfully.

  Jesse returned and offered a refill.

  "No thank you. James," Ferdinando declined. "We are informed you are now Jesse and Helen. Be aware We are now Ferdinando and Sancha. You've always been such a good youngster. You conducted Our business faithfully. We have no ill will towards you. Your 'accident' is perhaps the best thing that has happened to Us. You may expect to see a lot more of Us. We may settle down here."

  Jesse looked relieved. "Thank you for speaking plainly. It will be my pleasure to serve you. In any way I can," he made clear.

  "Why don't you offer the Codorníu to the chef?" Sancha suggested. "It seems a shame to waste half of it and he can use it in sauces and such."

  "Yes, and we are done for the evening," Ferdinando added, laying a bank card on the table edge.

  Jesse made a small negating gesture. "I already marked your tab paid when Miss Lewis sat with you. We never charge anyone keeping company with one of the owners."

  Sancha sat shocked. The young girl being an owner here was so far outside her experience she revised the opinion of April she was about to express to her husband. "Do you know? I think the rest of it might be true too," she told him after Jesse was out of earshot.

  "My Dear, I don't think we've heard the half of it."

  * * *

  The FedEx distribution center in Allentown Pennsylvania got a shipment of an anticancer drug for redistribution. The sort that benefited greatly from being purified in zero G. And one of the few so widely used its ultimate source was ignored by the USNA. Even at that it had been sent to the French habitat and the shipping container relabeled
to exclude any reference to Home to comply with North American sanctions. The manifest said two hundred ninety six boxes but they were fitted in a plastic shipping case that held three hundred. In the shipment were four different boxes with drones folded up in an egg shape.

  Two of the eggs sensed proper conditions and stirred, the other two waiting. The narrow sections between a number of lines on the surface lifted and bent forming legs. Other sections unfolded like a complex puzzle uncovering sensors and becoming wings. Antennas unfolded and read the location of the little robot off GPS satellites. The unencumbered robots followed their programming and flew to the top surface of the truck trailer in which they were riding and waited for a glimpse of the sky or direct sunlight reflecting off a surface.

  When the trailer doors opened the dock workers didn't even see the shiny bugs dart between the gap from the trailer to terminal building. They rose a hundred meters, turned a slow circle running checks on their systems and location and took off to the nearest sites on the list of surveillance targets. One stopped at a cellular tower along the way. Clinging to an antenna for a few minutes recharging and creating a temporarily weaker coverage area that nobody even noticed.

  One of the faux insects ended up at the new Executive Office Building, one at the office of the lobbyists representing Scaled Composites. The one at the Executive Office would be in service for several weeks before being discovered by a maintenance worker cleaning light fixtures and destroyed. The one at the lobbyists would replace another that self destructed at the end of its design life without discovering anything of importance to Jeff Singh.

  As a collective system the robots and software controlling them learned and improved even without human intervention. Sometimes sending updates in the last instant before a boot came down to crush them. Every few months the Japanese manufacturer made improvements and upgrades in the hardware. It never made economic sense for Jeff to manufacture them themselves. Demand from many Earth customers guaranteed that production on Home could never approach the same economies of scale the Japanese enjoyed. Jeff's people were careful to balance the discount they got from buying in quantity versus holding too many of the previous model when a new one came out. On occasion they got an offsetting fee for suggesting improvements to the little spy bugs.