A Hop, Skip and a Jump (Family Law Book 4)

by Mackey Chandler

  "So, what do you want, some grand gesture?" Serendipity asked. "Again, I'm not running the correct department for diplomatic overtures. If you want some big public announcement with memorandums of understanding, and trade agreements, the Space Navy doesn't do that."

  "Nothing so public, we simply wish for certain key people to have interests in both Derfhome and Fargone. We understand from talks we had with peer Lady Lewis at Central that Fargone has a special relationship with the Kingdom of Central and Home, and has a number of dual citizens of both, indeed a few people being citizens of all three. We'd like to expand that net to include Derfhome. We intend to institute life extension medical treatments for our Humans, and adapt the technology to Derf. Far better we partner with you for that than distant Home. For a start to make those things happen Gordon and I both wish to become Fargoers."

  "Ahhh . . . You know there is an immigration board and applications?" Serendipity asked. "You could have gone straight there and applied without me."

  "Yes, but be realistic," Lee pleaded. "Such boards have inertia. They quickly get habits in how they process things and don't look beyond the forms to wider considerations and exceptional circumstances when coming to a decision. You understand that we already have a relationship with Fargone. You have the influence from within to point those things out that an official processing an application form may not know. How many know about your ship's presence in our fleet on our voyage? Was it in your news? How important would they think it? It's not the sort of thing for which you have a box on an immigration form to tell them. In occupation, do I write on their immigration form Explorer of the Deep Beyond? They'd think me a mental case."

  Gordon finally spoke up. "I'm not even sure they would accept an application from a non-human. Do they even have a box to indicate your species?"

  "The immigration people are there to delay and deny," Serendipity admitted. "That is their function, not to promote. We've never needed or wanted a large influx. They are probably not selected for imagination, and a certain bias for normality might not surprise me. While I greatly admire Gordon's skills at hijacking starships and as a fleet commander, it may be difficult to present as a desirable skill set to an immigration officer."

  "So you can see the wisdom of us coming to the highest level contact we have established inside Fargone government," Lee said

  "Yes... "he said reluctantly.

  "If you are truly tired of looking for the pony, why not do your world one more service and help us tie Fargone and Derfhome a little closer?" Lee suggested. "What can they do to you? Get miffed and force you to take the retirement you are contemplating anyway?"

  "What is this pony of which you speak?" Serendipity asked, suspiciously.

  Lee related the story that a horse lover and a true optimist, faced with a huge stall full of horse manure to muck out, dug in with a will and started shoveling, because with all this horse crap there must be a pony in there somewhere.

  "Indeed, I've been looking for that pony for some time now, unaware that's what I was doing. But this would best be done quickly, while your exploration and our involvement with it are fresh in the minds of people who pay any attention to such things. I think it is worth doing," Serendipity agreed. "You have looked at the usual immigration application forms I suppose?"

  "I have copies of them on my pad," Lee said, patting the device on her belt. "I have to say however that a lot of blanks stayed blank or were marked DNA."

  "Give them to me," Serendipity Hawking requested. "If you file them normally they'll just come back to you after about a month delay with instructions to fill every box, whether such data exists or makes any damn sense at all. If an armed Naval Attaché in dress uniform hand delivers them to the director's private secretary, chained to his wrist, and demands a signed receipt for them it will get their attention. I'll attach a cover letter that will make the old boy call me directly, if his head doesn't simply explode when he reads it."

  "You must know him personally to refer to him that way," Lee guessed.

  "Indeed, I do. Director Yberra . . . is perfectly suited to his job. I can't guarantee he will listen to me, but I can pretty well guarantee he'll call and speak at me," Hawking said with a grimace. "Sometimes I envy the Derf acceptance of assassination to settle political matters."

  "All we can ask is that you try," Lee said. "What can we do to help, short of facilitating that assassination?"

  * * *

  "We are delayed several days," Gordon informed Timilo by drone message. "We were consulting with Admiral Hawking about his ship that was left at Far Away and our future plans. He kindly arranged for us to have an interview on the planet news net, and record several short segments for release after we return. It should help public support for Fargone's involvement in exploration. The fact you are already seeking to buy Fargone equipment, and not just from New Japan, is also very persuasive. People like to hear they're going to make money."

  Chapter 4

  Gordon suggested he sit on a pad to be lower and seem less intimidating. That had always helped in his experience with Humans, who had a fight or flight gut reaction to him. The young woman running the set, who was just introduced to them as 'Blondie', insisted she was well aware of the visceral reaction some people had to Derf. However she told him to trust her judgment and sit on a low platform. "Animals sit on the floor," she insisted. She also made them switch so that Lee was closest to the interviewer, and put Lee on a stool that put her eyes up at the same level as Gordon's.

  The interviewer would have his eyes at the same level too, but sitting behind a broadcast desk that hid his seat. That was necessary to visually establish his authority. Gordon and Lee did not have to establish authority, she informed them. It would flow to them from the news anchor with whom the viewers were familiar, and he had excellent trust ratings. They were to be open and leaning back relaxed, to show this was not an adversarial interview. The camera would establish that at the start, and then pan in and show them in more detail as the show progressed.

  Gordon looked around while minions ran back and forth with much hand waving and forming brief groups to confer and then scatter. What exactly they were doing he couldn't tell. How could there possibly be that much to do? The studio itself wasn't at all what Gordon expected. The room looked almost normal, like someone's living room, with all the lighting and audio equipment lost to the gloom of a high ceiling. He wondered if there was a control room with monitors for the cameras somewhere or if it was all automated? When he looked over at Lee her face was softly illuminated, but he couldn't tell where the light was coming from, and he had no lights shining in his own eyes. It was pretty slick.

  The set must be permanent and dedicated to Bode's show, Gordon decided, because his broadcast desk facing them was more like a throne than an office desk. The wall of graphics behind it wasn't a prop, it seemed to be on the actual wall, built in place rather than something that could be wheeled out so the studio could serve a different show. Indeed the double doors opposite their entry didn't look like they could pass the desk through.

  Blondie was very unhappy Gordon had nothing but his voyage rings to show he was a sentient tool user - her exact words. The fact he would be talking did not satisfy her. "You have to show them," Blondie insisted. She was however happy once she spoke into her pad and they were quickly supplied with a small table between them with coffee. Gordon promised to hold the cup in front of him most of the time while they talked and only set it down occasionally.

  Bode Benjamin stalked onto the set and thrust his hand out at Gordon. Humans hardly ever did that with him. He gave him a true hand and had it pumped vigorously. The man just radiated a hyperactive personality. He turned and did the same with Lee, which Gordon had noticed grown males very rarely did with her, any more than they did so with him.

  "We aren't tightly scripting this," Bode said, fixing them with his intense gaze. "You aren't selling used ground cars or in politics, so don't try to lie. Leave that to the pro
fessionals. The public is both smart and stupid. If you are a fake they will sense it, even if they are not smart enough to know why they formed that opinion. If you are possessed of a sense of humor don't be afraid to crack a funny. People like that, and it helps them identify with you. If there is something you don't like about Fargoers you can say so, just don't keep coming back to it so it gets tedious. If there is something you genuinely like about us, well, that's a gift. You can always make fun of our names. We're used to that. Do you have any questions?"

  "Is this your real personality, or is this something you put on in front of the camera?" Lee asked.

  "What you see is what you get," Bode admitted with a smile to rival Gordon's. "I've been told it wears some down, at least according to my ex-wives, but you won't be with me long enough to tire of it, one may hope."

  "I understand," Gordon said, with a knowing nod. "The camera diminishes everything. The viewer sees you in a box, so to speak. Most will view you less than life size. So if you give off all this energy it's to the good. Not all of it will leak through to the viewer."

  "Exactly." Blondie said, surprised at his perception. "Most people learn to hold it in and don't project. Starting with their mother telling them to use their inside voice. That works well face to face, but it comes across plain white bread with no butter through the camera. My dear, could you bring that lovely knife around a little more to the front? And don't keep it covered up with your arm all the time either."

  "It won't put people off?" Lee asked.

  "I predict we'll have a hundred inquiries about it on the net site, and some smart manufacturer will quickly knock off a passable copy and sell them. Fargoers like knives, but they're rarely that pretty."

  "Maybe I should have worn an ax," Gordon said.

  "Sweet gods, yes, do it next time," Blondie told him.

  Once they took their places Blondie called out with an authority that hushed everyone. Most of the mob hurried out the doors, and there was a countdown to air-time. The studio finally displayed some equipment, several small cameras dropping to eye level from above. They were not much bigger than a belt phone and positioned so one camera didn't show another. When the show started the cam showing Bode panned.

  The camera really only showed them intermittently between recorded feed. The show was less about dialog and more about their trip as an adventure. Their images of the crystal forest, on one of the brown dwarf satellites, was shown all out of proportion to its importance. The images of the abandoned Centaur buildings were featured too, and Gordon was impressed with how tiny even Derf looked against the wide base of the towering planet shield generator. other things, like the piles of junk were not nearly as impressive and cut down to a quick shot of the alien motorcycle being loaded up to remove.

  Gordon was impressed with the fact all this editing was done overnight. There were thousands and thousands of hours of video they brought back. He certainly hadn't seen all of it himself. He had no idea that they apparently had endless hours of cute Badger cubs playing. He wasn't sure why, but they showed Ha-bob-bob-brie several times, once in a pressure suit.

  Lee was prompted to tell about betting with Thor about the alien pacing them, but she laughed and assured them emphatically that she didn't play poker with the Fargoers when Bode inquired, saying that games with million-dollar pots were too rich for her to enjoy.

  At the end when Bode inquired about their plans to go exploring again, it was Lee who answered as they'd arranged. She acknowledged they had to delay to set up a claims organization, because Earth was uninterested in trying to administer theirs so deep into the Beyond, due to lack of support from smaller nations. Then with a single short statement, almost as an after-thought, she said that besides taking Fargoers again on the next voyage she and Gordon intended to become Fargoer's themselves before they went exploring again. That ended the interview with that thought left last in the audience's mind. Blondie said, "That's a wrap!" loudly and everybody relaxed. Except Bode. He didn't have a relaxed mode.

  "Do you think this helped?" Gordon asked Admiral Hawking, who watched the show made from the production booth.

  "Oh yeah, you aced it," Hawking said, surprised he had to ask. "The director said the number of viewers went up steadily as the show progressed and quite a few are still watching it. Often a show starts with a certain number viewing and drops off as people see it isn't of any interest to them, and leave. You only get an increase when folks call their friends and tell them to take a look at it. And quite a few of them were interested enough to start the show streaming from the beginning. He said he expects this one to keep getting a respectable number of views for the next week."

  "Good. I'm glad we presented well," Gordon said.

  "You did fine," Blondie told them. "The Badger cubs didn't hurt either. If they weren't people I'd want one for myself, they're so damn cute."

  * * *

  "What will we do now?" Lee wondered. "Do we have people in immigration to go lobby, or are there others like the Admiral you'd like to visit and enlist?"

  "I'm pretty sure that could be counterproductive at this point," Gordon said. "You can easily over sell something. I know you're aware of that, I heard you school Talker on the very point. The anchor, Bode, took me aside and spoke to me after the show. He seemed taken with our cause and indicated he would, 'put a bug in a few people's ears.' Such a horrible idiom, but given the strength of his personality, and how well known he is, Bode may have as much influence to help us as Admiral Hawking. I think we should go out and be seen doing a little sightseeing and shopping. I'll let Blondie know we might be caught out in public if she wants a news snippet. Let's see what Bode and Hawking can do in a day or two."

  * * *

  Fargoers seemed to have a common gesture Gordon had never seen elsewhere. On the street people recognized them from the show, but didn't presume to interrupt them or ask for autographs like Earth people might have. Instead the common Fargoer reaction after a little start of surprise was to smile and point emphatically at them. It might have been taken for rudeness other places, but it seemed positive. Perhaps it simply meant - "I know you!" Then it was almost always followed by a brief wave.

  Gordon waved back at a few and then on an odd impulse returned the point and wave on a gentleman. The fellow found that hilarious and departed with a huge grin. He didn't run it into the ground but did it a few times again as they strolled through the shopping district. He and Lee discussed it but weren't sure why it was funny. Were they saying "I know you." back? Was it self-deprecating, or a form of modesty? Whatever the case people liked it. Lee even tried it a few times with the same reaction.

  They stopped for lunch at a cafe with outside seating. It wasn't very busy but shortly after they arrived the place was packed. The crowd didn't intrude on their privacy, but Gordon noticed a lot of them made brief calls, and seemed to be looking at them. The specialty of the house was a huge ground beef sandwich. Gordon ordered eight as they were two bites for him. They served him beer in a pitcher with a pour spout. Apparently they didn't get many Derf. Lee had onion rings, which she remembered from Earth, but found these better.

  When Gordon asked for the check the owner came over and informed him the place was never this busy an hour before most offices let out for lunch, and rarely had a line waiting for a table. He attributed it to people seeing Gordon and Lee and wanting to eat at the same place with them. Quite a few probably sent pix off their spex to family and friends. They were thanked for the boost in business and informed lunch was free. They were even invited to stop again, any time they were in the area. Gordon had an approximate idea of what the tab would be and left it as a tip for the waiter. It felt weird to be minor celebrities, even for a few days.

  * * *

  After supper Hawking called them on com. He appeared to still be in his office working. It looked the same behind him as it had before they went on their long voyage.

  "I need you to do something to help move your application along,
" he requested.

  "Sure, what would you like?" Gordon agreed. Lee leaned in so Hawking would see her too, though Gordon pretty much filled the camera angle.

  "I'd like you to apply to buy a house," he requested, "you or Lee, either one or both."

  "Neither of us is exactly poor," Gordon reminded him. "We can pay cash for something if that gives us some sort of rights to be in residence."

  "Just the opposite," Hawking informed them. "Only citizens may buy real property, and prices are kept artificially high to slow development. By applying you create a situation where failure to grant your citizenship will result in a loss of business."

  "But it works to slow development to keep us out, right?" Lee said confused.

  "That which is agreed upon in principle is often contested case by case," Hawking assured her.

  "So we're down to recruiting real estate agents to our cause?" Gordon asked.

  "If it means they get a commission on a property worth several million silver dollars Ceres they will fight for you like a rabid Wolverine," Hawking said.

  "Let Lee buy one," Gordon begged off. "If we visit together we'd just end up staying together at one or the other anyway. She'll care what it's actually like far more than me."

  "It can't hurt," Lee decided. "I like Landing better than any other city I've been to. If we had a place here I might actually visit. The Badgers are too far away, Earth is a hell-hole, and the Moon is too close to Earth for my comfort. I'd never feel comfortable in one of the ethnic worlds like Gabriel took me to, or New Japan. None of them would want me contaminating them anyway. I'd be happy to own an apartment in Landing if I can come and go, and it can be maintained for me while I'm not here."

  "That's a good point too," Hawking realized. "You'll also be providing local employment. You'd need a caretaker couple at a minimum to keep it clean and ready for you."

  "If you say so," Lee agreed. "I wasn't just thinking building maintenance. I was more concerned with security, but if that's how it's done we can have live-in help too. I was just thinking of a place in a big building. I don't need a farm."