Family Law

by Mackey Chandler

  "Thank you. I just wanted to thank you for your shelter. I owe you. Call on me any time I can be of assistance," she promised. "I am not without resources."

  "We will, that has value, to have some human friends, because we are about to make many humans very unhappy with us," Tri-til-tit-talo told her. "We have been waiting for cause to abrogate the defective treaty with which we were saddled. Attacking our embassy and injuring our own and allies, is quite sufficient cause to set it aside."

  "Yeah, my dad Gordon told me you guys got a bum deal. Good for you. Is there any chance we can get a quick shower before we get in this courier? It doesn't sound like it will have very luxurious accommodations."

  "Hinth do not shower, but we have a bay in maintenance for washing down equipment," Tri offered. "I believe it could serve the same function."

  "Lead on," Lee said. "It can't be any worse than a Derf shower."

  Nobody ever did explain what the noise was.

  * * *

  Headlines and Shorts

  Out System Observer/web - Hinth denounce treaty over assault of embassy.

  Daily Lunatic - ONI credentials and dead agents displayed to media. - Lunar Republic ends diplomatic relations with North America." "No stable relationship possible with liars and child thieves – Moon spok says. - Armstrong terminus closed to USNA military on civilian flight transfers.

  New York Times - Hinth expel Governor.

  Financial Times/web - Futures irrational on long supply fears, expert says.

  War God Word/web - Martians support USNA curbs on 'animal rights' – says cultural minister about sapient alien races.

  Gulf Gazette/web - Persian Chief Imam says Hinth and Derf ritually unclean like dogs.

  The clipping service was returning huge files to the Mothers. The web bots returned hundreds of mirrored articles and translations that had to be condensed.

  * * *

  "Look at this," the analyst said. "The Bank of Derfhome just posted a public filing for five contracts, for space rated cryogenic tankage, to Gordon of Red Tree. Two contracts in ounces silver and three in dollars Ceres. Two for immediate delivery and three for fabrication. What in the hell do they need to haul around in that much volume?"

  "I have no idea," the head of Fargone intelligence admitted. "But I want you to form a team with an aerospace engineer, a military tactician and a military historian and ask them. The last time he let an order for pressure suits we had no clue with what audacity he would use them. Let's try to stay ahead of the clues this time."

  * * *

  "We have a new communication from Red Tree," the Undersecretary of State Dawson announced. He had an excellent poker face, so there was no gauging it good or bad.

  "How are we confirming it is actually from them?"

  "We'll get a data drone from Derfhome when it is posted as a public document and published in their legal news, just like the declaration of war. We should have it in two days."

  "OK, pending confirmation what do they have to say? Paraphrase it."

  "They offer us opportunity to return to the Treaty of Man, if we will amend it to attach strict penalties for non-compliance at a personal level. We return Lee Anderson – attach full Derf name – to them in good health and condition. We make a public apology for being lying scum and promise not to do it again. They graciously don't ask for any damages or reparations. They keep the ships and any more they can get if we screw around too long saying yes. And they will graciously take no further aggressive, that's the word he used, aggressive action against us. He intimated if we decline their kind offer they are growing impatient and intend to get really nasty, not keep playing around. Do we even have the girl to return? If what I read on this ONI thing on Luna is true was she there? Did they track her there?"

  "How would I know who they tracked where, when they are all most inconveniently dead?," the Secretary asked irritated.

  "Oh…Well what should I say then?"

  "Screw the furry bastard," the Secretary said.

  "You want that prettied up in diplomatic language?"

  "No, it's plain enough."

  "Want to run it past the President?"

  "Trust me. I know his mind on this matter."

  Chapter 47

  "Diana and I will take a sleep shift overlapping both the Ambassador and you girls. That way we can be available to both, yet not clutter up the lounge all at once."

  The lounge was two love seats, facing a flat screen in a V. It also served as the dining area and can be configured to have a table between the love seats.

  "You two are small and slept together in the Hinth embassy. Do you have any trouble bunking together?" Jesus asked.

  "I don't," she lifted an inquiring eyebrow to Clare, who shook her head no.

  "Good, the crew shares a bunk built with access to the flight deck. They have a head, but come back here to shower. We have limited distillation capacity, so please wet yourself and soap up, then rinse off, not stand and let it run, or somebody after you may get cut off standing there all soapy. If you listen to music use headphones. This is a barebones vessel and they didn't have a mass allowance for sound proofing. Meals are all prepackaged. We won't run out, but it's first come, first served. It's very bad form to ask a favorite be reserved for you. We have more than you can eat, but it may not be what you like. There are such things as crackers and granola bars in the cupboard and salt and pepper and plenty of the pilot's friend – hot sauce. Coffee and tea. There are a few hundred videos in the memory module of the com set. Most travelers carry their own. A few of them are pretty raunchy," he warned, "You can tell from the titles."

  "Any questions?"

  "Would you ask the crew if they would let me see the flight deck sometime during the flight?" Lee asked.

  "I will, but that is entirely up to their discretion," Jesus told her.

  "How long until we get to Fargone?" Clare asked.

  "Eighteen days, fourteen jumps and three refueling stops. We could go faster if we cut through a couple USNA dominated systems, but the Ambassador doesn't want to do that. We will be almost constantly at one and a quarter G. Most people don't find that oppressive. We could run at three and a half Gs and cut the time in half. You wouldn't enjoy sleeping in three and a half Gs. Most folks need to wear a positive pressure breather mask and go to a slightly richer oxy mix laying in a gel bed. Very few can move about and they do so at great danger with a special walker. They have to be athletic and pump a lot of iron in preparation. And please never ask us if we are there yet," he joked. "Good night now," he insisted and headed for his cabin.

  "Come on," Lee told Clare, "In system maneuvering and run to jump, is easier in the bunk with a safety net up."

  * * *

  "I have an Earth-Moon line up, that will allow us to do the approach and exit you want in eighteen days. Next decent time is almost two months after that. Can you get the tanks mounted and get there in that time frame?"

  "Let's ask the yard. I know I don't have enough tanks to fit the destroyer and a freighter. The best we can do is preposition the freighter starting now, so it uses as little fuel as possible and transfer the remainder of its fuel. We can sit and see what comes back through from Sol before we decide to sit tight hiding, or engage. If nothing comes back on us we can just grapple the freighter and return to Fargone for more work."

  "Two good things. The Sharp Claws can exit the Sol system to Survey System 418. It's a twelve - nines jump at her velocity and is never attempted by manned ships from Sol. A drone can do it but they hate to use two jump drones. The other good thing is, the orbital fort and shipyard will both be over the horizon from most of North America at night, when we hit them. I think we should squirt a little message straight to the news services on Luna and let them tell their North American affiliates to go outside and watch the fireworks," McKenzie suggested.

  "Hmm. I think I need to appoint you minister of propaganda," Gordon told him. "You know what you said about a drone making the transition? W
hat do you want to bet somebody fits a jump capable drone with an X-head and makes it into a missile to fire after a retreating ship, to pursue it into the next system? Send a message to Happenstance and tell him I need to consult with him. Better we have it before somebody else thinks of it."

  "And send a message to Luna and have them broadcast a coded recall to the sky for Fly Over Country. We can reposition them later after we evaluate this mission. Tell them to proceed to Bountiful, reprovision and take shore leave and reposition if they get no other orders. Also, tell them they will now be named Ruddy Rustic. They should have the ship repainted with the new designation at Bountiful."

  * * *

  Headlines – News Posts

  Capital Watch - USNA rejects offer to reaffirm treaty. Derf a distant irritant, government/spok

  Mystery Lover Sheets - Young Heiress - mystery remains in Michigan massacre?

  Shipping News - Lloyd's refuses to insure USNA flagged vessels at any rate. USNA allies distance themselves from hard stance.

  Goods Trader Blog/net – Commodities unsettled by war uncertainty. Long metals/pharm. rise.

  * * *

  Running for jump from New Japan, the Retribution got one last data dump.

  "Operation a success, more to follow." Jesus for BW.

  "Security intimates Lee off planet. Little info for operational security." Stanley.

  "Mothers concur with plans." Nation of Red Tree.

  "Crew of Red Metal reports cargo is disposed of. Have had auxiliary equipment installed and proceeding as ordered." Thompson.

  * * *

  The ship finished all those twisting and rotating motions and boosted at a steady gravity and a quarter. Lee and Clare slept that deep sound sleep that comes with emotional exhaustion. Clare woke first and lay there heavy, feeling the deep vibration of the drive pushing them. The cabin had put the night light on after a time with no motion. It was just enough to see without bumping into things.

  She thought about her parents. When Lee pulled her away to the plane, her father was telling her firmly to go and grab a new life for herself. But his hand had been reluctant to let go of hers and trailed away on her arm as she slid away. Her mother has spoken the opposite, saying how she would miss her and loved her, but had put her hand flat on her back and pushed her to go with Lee. They both seemed as conflicted as she was at the moment.

  She was glad she got away from Earth and what had been a narrow grubby future with little opportunity. But she was finding it hard to deal with the idea she may never see her parents again, face to face. When she thought of that, she started the deep sort of wrenching sob that comes deep from down in your guts.

  It was only a few seconds of sobbing before Lee stirred and awakened.

  "Hey, hey, what's the matter?" Lee asked.

  "Oh, it's so stupid. I can't tell you," Clare insisted.

  "It's not smart or stupid," Lee insisted. "It's how you feel," she explained. "You feel how you feel and you may decide to be stupid or smart about it, but it rarely changes how you feel about things at the moment. Maybe much later you will decide to feel differently about it, but changing emotions is not very easy. At least that is what my mom used to tell me," she explained and squeezed her really har, chin over her shoulder.

  When her breathing got under control, Clare pulled back so she could see Lee's face, to talk to her. "That's really brilliant. I never heard anybody separate how you feel and how you act as two separate things. It makes more sense than most people I know who want you to be guilt ridden, if you feel different than what your head says is logical."

  "Does it hurt anybody for you to feel sad?"

  "Put that way, no. It probably doesn't help anybody either, not even me, but it is."

  "When my mom and dad died I asked my Uncle Gordon how people stand it. He said it never goes away, but it gets easier with time. I'm finding he's right. You do other things and it becomes more distant in your memory. I kind of suspect it has to, or we'd go crazy as we get older and bad memories add up. It helps to tell too. After I told the story a few times, about the night I was trapped in my sleeping bag with the Dinos trying to get in and eat me, I got more detached from it somehow. Want to tell me what made you cry?"

  "It just suddenly hit me how I may never see my parents again. I still want to go, but it seems so permanent and I feel guilty a little for wanting to go," she explained.

  "I can understand that," Lee said nodding. "Talk to me any time," she offered.

  "Thank you, hug me again will you?"

  After a while Clare hugged back hard and kissed her in front of her ear. She could feel her tears run down between their cheeks. It was a sudden new insight, to realize Clare in leaving her parents now depended on her. Clare was half a head taller than Lee and older looking. She hadn't clearly realized how much their natural relationship was reversed and the older girl her ward until just now. She wasn't sure she was ready to be that grown up.

  * * *

  "This pig feels like it is pushing a mountain," Gordon complained. "I have power at eighty percent to pull one point three-two G."

  "That's right about what we calculated," Thor pointed out.

  "I know, but experiencing it is somehow different. We are seven minutes from release. Everything still working?"

  "Not an amber light on the board. I will bring the drive up to its lowest active setting and push away from you with attitude thrusters at ten seconds until release."

  "If you don't stop humming into the mic I may fire on you myself," Gordon warned.

  "Sorry, release in thirty seconds. No count just…now. Clean separation. Ramping drive to a G and a half.

  "Retribution drive to minimum idle. Waiting for you to clear," Gordon said. "You've got a hundred meters. Retribution rolling over. Sound acceleration alarm. Take to max G in one minute. Pull your arms in and swallow your coffee folks. We're gonna get heavy."

  "Perfect line on the jump point. Will transition in six minutes." Sharp Claws reported.

  "Go get them, Sharp Claws."

  "She's gone," the astrogator called, when the destroyer blinked out of existence. The disturbance rattled the ship like a ground car hitting gravel, but they had pulled back enough.

  "Reduce thrust to a half G. All sections check status. See if anybody got stupid at high G. We might as well run her on the sweet spot, to save a little fuel," Gordon explained. "When we are at system rest the Red Tree will search for us. If we have to break silence to rendezvous I want it to be short, low power and narrow beam."

  * * *

  "Miss? I'm Chance Ochocinco the second officer. We were told you asked to see the flight deck. Would you like to come forward now? We're both up, there is not much happening and it's a good time."

  Clare claimed to not feel so well and was in the cabin. Lee decided to let her be.

  "Please, I'd love to see how a courier is laid out," she followed him forward.

  "That sort of implies you are familiar with some other sort of vessel. Are you off a family freighter?" he asked.

  "No, I grew up on the High Hopes, In fact I'm two thirds owner, but it is a deep space explorer, not a freighter. I'm afraid I've never set foot in a freighter either."

  He opened the door and the flight deck was really small. The overhead allowed you to stand, but with maybe 300 millimeters clearance for a two meter man. There were two large well padded power couches, both set full upright at the moment. There were actual viewports, not just displays. There were cabinets on the back walls and a drink dispenser and a door that must be to a head. There were two substantial fold down jump seats, but no console for them.

  "This is our Commander, Captain Bertram Roland Singh. Miss Anderson is principal owner of the explorer High Hopes, Bert. I don't think I've ever met anyone actually raised on a ship before, have you?"

  "High Hopes! Bloody Hell! They didn't tell me. I'd have still flown her, but they damn well should have told me!" he exclaimed staring at her.

  "Don't worry Mi
ss," he said embarrassed. "He's perfectly harmless most of the time. What's got into you Bert?"

  "You're on the wrong side. Look at her other ear."

  "A Greenie? You mean she's…?"

  "The cause célèbre of this little conflict."

  "I really didn't provoke it on purpose," Lee objected, getting irritated. "I was a bit naive about Earth and I wore jewelry in public I wouldn't have, with what I know now. But this fellow tried to mug me right in the lobby of our hotel," she explained indignantly.

  "This is history we're hearing," Bert said. "The straight detailed stuff, like you hardly ever get to hear first hand. Why don't you take the second seat here and power it around and Chance can pull down the jump behind me and we'd love to hear the whole story."

  "Thank you," Lee said and settled in, she automatically put the lap belt on loosely. Her hand went down and the toggles were tucked under the edge of the arm channel right where she expected. She changed the knee break and lifted the foot support and brought it around counter clockwise smoothly so she was aimed right between them.

  "Hah, she's done that a time or two. She could likely stand a watch," Bert said grinning.

  "Oh, no. I'm an able spacer and I have my papers, but I have never taken the conn," she assured them. "If you need some filters changed, or a monthly lock certification I'm your girl."

  "Would you like something to wet your whistle whilst you tell us about getting mugged?"

  "Sure, might you have a drop of Bourbon?" Lee asked, in all innocence.

  The pilots just looked at each other and cracked up…

  * * *

  None of them had ever accelerated hard into a system like this. Their drive signature was a spreading cone behind them. Somebody had to see it as packed as the Earth system was. Earth itself was an actual small crescent to the unaided eye and the drop tanks were almost empty, before the wave front from behind them caught up.

  "Lunar Control, This is Titan Base, plot attached, we observe drive emissions from a vessel under heavy acceleration, on a Lunar intercept. By the time our signal reaches you they will be somewhere around ten or fifteen minutes out. We can't plot it any closer than that, looking almost straight down his exhaust. It appears to be an extreme collision hazard for the Lunar surface or near Earth space. Repeating…"