Evan had ridden on similar shuttles with Mira many times. One milk run was near their current location. Valley of Dreams to Foray, and back. Valley of Dreams had a lot more Versari history, but Foray was in better shape. No atmosphere. The moon was also a tougher place to work. So they had developed a routine. Go up to Foray, stay for as long as they could stand it, say two weeks. Then Valley of Dreams again for a few weeks.
Gravity was suddenly gone as the ship stopped accelerating. Evan had failed to strap in, and now he floated free.
Mira spoke from the front. “Ok, I’ve matched the vector to my prior course. No reason to let anyone know I stopped in for a visit.”
“You saved my life.”
“Well how about that? Who had to be fished out of trouble this time? And who can’t even follow the most basic instruction to strap in?”
“Thank you,” Evan told her, “so much. It’s so great to be out of that helmet. Okay if I take off the EVA? I’ll get strapped in after that.”
“Unsuit yourself.”
Evan peeled and climbed his way out of the EVA. Freedom, after so many hours. The best part of all was unhooking the catheter. Evan stretched out fully, glorying in the lack of confinement.
“Man, when was the last time you washed?”
“Sorry about that, Mira! A big day touring known space, you know. I’ll go rinse off in the head, if this bucket has one.”
“No shower, if that’s what you mean. You can use a damp cloth to spread the stink around. That’ll have to do until we get you off this can.”
“Hardly worth it. Anyway, where are we going?”
“First, I need to stop in at Top Station. I have some cargo to deliver.”
Top Station, with him on board? What was she thinking? “You know, there might be a better time for that. I need to get to ground, quickly. Stopping off anywhere is not such a good idea.”
Mira waved him off. “No really, I need to go there. It’s the reason I’m flying. The official reason. If I don’t complete my trip plan, somebody will wonder why.” It appeared that Mira had learned to plan more than a minute ahead in the last few years.
“Give me a sec,” Mira continued. “I need to update the worm drive so that the record states that I stayed exactly on my course, rather than diverting to get you.”
“You can do that? I thought the whole point of a worm drive was just to record and never be updated. Official record and all that.”
“Just call me the worm charmer. I’ll get it, if you can shut up.”
After a few silent minutes, she called out. “There, done. I stayed exactly on the flight plan. No deviations at all. And by the way, not only should you be thankful that I fetched you, but also that I was smart enough to figure out a credible low fuel flight plan that went right past you and also went to Top Station. And then resourceful enough to find someone who urgently needed a courier run there.”
Evan floated up and took the copilot seat next to Mira. “Just to come get me. I did say thank you.”
“Actually not to get you. I thought you were dead. When I read your message, I just figured that you might have left me a present.”
What should he tell Mira, and when? At this moment, he owed her everything. But as Evan well remembered, discretion and nuance were not Mira’s strong suits.
They looked at each other for a moment. Mira had that way of facing slightly away but turning her eyes toward him, conveying at the same time an interrogation and also a sense that they were both in on the same secret. Inviting him to break the silence.
He was alive, thanks only to Mira. Evan realized that he had no idea what risks she had taken to get to him. He might not be able to repay her, but there was one decent thing he could do right that moment.
“We’ve got a little while until Top Station, right?”
“Just over two hours,” she told him.
“Well then Mira, I’ve got a little story for you,” Evan said. “But before I get started, where are we going? I mean, after Top Station?”
“There’s only one place you can go,” Mira said. “And lucky for you I live there. We’re going to the Untrusted Zone.”
Private Keys
Lobeck, Skylar, and Roe were assembled. Lobeck began. “First, let me confirm that the only record of this discussion is the multiparser on the table. I will keep custody of this. No person is to make any mention of this material, even in private records. Mister Roe, you are present only because you have firsthand knowledge of events thus far.”
That drumbeat had not ceased since the moment Lobeck had arrived. Roe was a guest, on his own ship. No more than a rental. Not even called Captain.
“First, the examination of the destroyed craft.” Lobeck turned to Skylar.
“The craft was first checked for nuclear or other explosive devices, then it was brought into M3120’s hold. Physical investigation of the interior was begun as M3120 proceeded to Top Station.”
Mithra Skylar was one of the strangest looking people Roe had ever seen. The pale white of her skin would be effective camouflage against the ship’s hallways. She was so thin that Roe wondered if she would disappear if she turned sideways. She was breathing a supplementary air supply through a set of tubes running under her nose. She had one eye always covered by a dataspace viewer, and a companion viewer ready to swing in front of her other eye at a moment’s notice.
“How many persons entered the craft?” Lobeck asked.
“A total of five plus myself,” Roe said. He brought up a graphic of the interior of the runabout, which included icons identifying objects of interest.
“And you believe there was one casualty,” Lobeck prompted.
“There was the missile impact, which could have discharged the one person. There was no person or body in the ship.”
Lobeck studied the graphic, exploding a few icons to check their details. “Let us speculate that McElroy survived,” he said. “That is the most concerning scenario.”
“It’s just not physically possible. Nobody−”
Lobeck looked sharply at Skylar. “Never say impossible. You know better. We must consider all possibilities. But let’s move on. The transmittal. That fact endures, no matter what McElroy’s fate.”
Skylar narrated the status. “From 0543 until impact at 0546, the craft broadcast the same message repeatedly on a variety of channels. The plain text portion is nonsense. The encrypted portion appears to be coded using 2KB strong, and it’s small. Here’s one thing that’s verifiably impossible – the message can’t possibly contain the entire information we are concerned about protecting. It could be meta. It could be about the information. But it can’t contain all of it.”
“How long will it take to decrypt?” Lobeck asked Skylar.
“With the resources on board, three days, presuming that we recognize the decrypted content. If it’s unrecognizable or has another layer of coding, we could easily miss it. But there is one other approach that might work.”
“Do tell.” Lobeck gave Skylar his full attention.
“It’s possible that the message was encrypted to a private key that we can access. All commercial encryption software packages automatically save the user’s private key for law enforcement purposes. It is heavily sequestered and only used at times of critical need such as a terrorism investigation. The government of Kelter will have an archive of every private key that has been generated in this system by commercial software.”
“We don’t know that this particular private key was generated by commercial software on Kelter,” Lobeck countered.
“True, we don’t know that,” answered Skylar. “But it would cover over ninety eight percent of people living in the Kelter system.”
“I agree, it’s worth checking. So how do we get these keys?”
“Under normal circumstances, we don’t,” she said. “The keys can only be released as part of a terrorism investigation, and only for identified people. And we don’t know whose key we are looking for.”
“We’ll just have to get them all, then,” Lobeck decided. “Identify somebody who can release the information, preferably on Top Station, and we’ll have a chat with them.”
The Ruling
Finally, Kate had satisfied the CoreValue squad and fled back to her office. She closed her door, sat down in her captain’s chair, lay back, and closed her eyes.
It had been less than twenty-four hours since the ruling.
She would never forget the worst day of her life. Yesterday. It had been up in a small station near Top Station. Remote and isolated, specifically for the purpose of adjudicating sensitive matters of law, lacking even niceties like generated gravity.
Kate and her lawyer Colditz had taken their places in the appointed box. Some distance away, she saw the flock of plaintiff lawyers, at least a dozen as usual. People filtered in for the next few minutes until only three people were needed. The panel. And then the judges arrived.
Everyone stood up at the arrival of the judges. It was an awkward thing to do in the absence of gravity, but it was still expected. Plant your feet on the surface that has been defined as “down” by convention in the room. Hold on to the bar in front of you. Straighten. When everyone did this at the same time, it created a momentary illusion of up and down.
“Please be seated,” the bailiff told everyone.
Being seated was easier than standing. There were even seat belts if you wanted them. It was important to stay the right way up, because floating upside down or even sideways was disrespectful and would likely get you ejected from the proceedings.
“In the matter of CoreValue Family vs. DelMonaco Trading, we have reached a final verdict.”
Good. No more maneuvers. No more continuances. No more discovery. Whatever the answer, it was time to have it. Kate listened as the lead judge began.
“First, the case summary. CoreValue Family seeks damages for trespass and refusal on the part of DelMonaco Trading to pay reasonable and accustomed royalties for transit of the hyperspace glome from Green to Cloudcroft.”
The judge continued his narration. “DelMonaco Trading maintains that the royalty term expired over seventy years ago in 2227, since the glome was first explored in 2178, and the royalty period extends for forty-nine years.
“CoreValue presented evidence that it has secured pervasive and ongoing agreements to extend the royalty period, by incorporating these extensions into many other contracts and purchase agreements.”
All of the Sisters had done this for decades, going on centuries. In every contract, covering every transaction with any of the Sisters, there were hidden gems that reiterated and extended their rights. In that way, glome royalty rights had been perpetuated for many years after they should have expired.
Kate’s parents had taken it as a personal mission not to contract with any of the majors. The fine print was not the only reason. Kate remembered it well from when she was a kid. Products everyone else had, but which were denied to her due to their origin. But in at least one instance, Kate’s mother had slipped up.
“Specifically in the case of DelMonaco Trading,” the judge continued, “it was demonstrated that in 2269, Ms. Anna DelMonaco agreed to extend all glome royalty periods by a further forty-nine years as part of the terms of use for her grocery rewards card, and that this extension would also be binding on her child Kate DelMonaco, who was twelve years old at the time. Therefore all CoreValue glome royalties are still in effect and binding on DelMonaco Trading.”
A grocery card. The stupidest, lowest value item a person could have. And CoreValue had inserted their tentacles into the terms.
“One question before the court is whether a minor child can be bound by an agreement made by a parent. The defendants assert that a child should not be so bound. The plaintiffs assert that the defendant received benefits from the agreement and therefore should be bound by it.
“The court finds that the defendant did substantially benefit from her parent’s ability to acquire discounted groceries. For instance, some of the food purchased by Anna was provided to her daughter Kate, and the discounts would allow for more or higher quality food to be provided. In consideration for that benefit, the court finds that all of the obligations in the card agreement are still applicable, for a term of forty-nine years since the date of the transaction. Therefore, the court rules for the plaintiff.”
Defeat. Disappointing, but not unexpected. It was a flier, worth a try. She could try again in another twenty-four years, when she was sixty-one – thus forty-nine years after the purchase in question.
“The next question before the court is of the amount of damages. First, DelMonaco Trading owes the original amount of the royalty, which is 11,400 credits.
“Second, DelMonaco Trading is ordered to pay the legal costs incurred by the plaintiff. Pending a final invoice, the estimated amount of legal fees is 2.9 million credits.”
Also expected, in light of the ruling. And as much as it burned her butt to pay the inflated legal fees, it was not a problem. DelMonaco Trading was still generating healthy margins, if less with each passing year. And a huge benefit of having no stockholders, no outside investors at all, was that there would be no squawking. She would simply pay.
Kate prepared to get up. But the judge was not finished.
“Finally, the court finds that CoreValue Family has suffered substantial damage to its reputation, due to the defendant’s efforts to cast doubt on whether CoreValue was rightfully enforcing its extended royalty period. Such damages have been determined to be a minimum of four hundred million credits. The exact amount of damages will be finalized by an arbitrator who will provide a report within six hours, in time for publication of the ruling in twenty-four hours. CoreValue is entitled to create and enforce liens on any and all property of DelMonaco Shipping, effective immediately. This court stands adjourned.”
As the attendees streamed out, Kate just sat, holding onto the retention bar in front of her. 400 million credits. Or more. Her family was destroyed. It was all going to be taken away, due to the terms on an agreement that her mother had unthinkingly clicked decades before.
“Hey Kate, we’re not done.” Her lawyer Steven Colditz. “As I was telling you, now that we have a ruling, we go to final settlement talks. We have twenty-four hours to settle before the ruling is filed. The judge threw out some big numbers there, but nothing is set in stone.”
Kate refused to look at him. “Oh come on! We’ve been a thorn in their side, and they came after us, and they won. What kind of appeals do we have?”
“Nada,” her lawyer said. “Appeals past this level were all streamlined away in the reforms of the eighties. This is the end of the legal road.”
“So what kind of settlement can we get now?”
“I think we’re about to find out. Here they come.”
Kate wanted nothing more than to go crawl into a hole. “Do we have to talk with them right now?”
“As your lawyer, I would advise it,” Colditz told her.
The lawyers arrived in formation and perched on the retention bars. Their lead counsel spoke.
“Ms. DelMonaco, shall we talk settlement at last? We have always wanted to settle, as you know, and we still do.”
Kate regarded the opposing lawyer coldly. “You got your ruling, what more do you want?”
“Let me ask you something. Do you want DelMonaco Trading to continue and thrive? Even grow beyond your greatest ambition?”
“It’s my life,” she said.
“Then let’s talk about that. We’ll invest a hundred million credits for a ninety five percent share of the family. A very generous valuation, in light of today’s ruling.”
“A controlling share. Almost all of the family.”
“Yes. But above all, we want you. Stay on as President, Ms. DelMonaco. Use the investment to expand your routes. You will just need to serve for five years as CEO in order to earn out a ten million credit bonus in addition to your salary. And as a valued member of th
e CoreValue Family, you will receive a waiver on all glome royalties. Isn’t that what you were after?”
“But independence, that’s the whole point. I don’t know if I can be part of − that. You and your whole bunch of crows.” Kate cut herself off before she launched into a diatribe that she would regret.
“Honesty, that’s a good start to any business relationship.”
“I don’t know if we’re going to have any business relationship, Mr. Crassus. I really don’t.”
“Just think about it, Ms. DelMonaco. You have one day to do the math. Without a settlement, you’re out of business. Settle with us, and you’ll be in great shape. You’ll have a new investment, and you’ll have the entire CoreValue Family behind you.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Please do. But think quickly. Feel free to contact me whenever you wish, day or night. No time is too late or too early. You two have a great evening.” Crassus gracefully launched from his retaining bar in the direction of the exit, and then was followed by his attendants.
A minute later, Kate and her lawyer were the only two people in the room. Kate already knew what his advice would be, and he was wisely choosing not to provide it at that moment.
One way or another, it was over.
Kate brought herself back to the present, in her office. The ruling was history, and it wasn’t going to do her any good rerunning the events of the prior day.
Her family was being dismantled around her. There was nothing she could do about it, unless she gave in and accepted the offer to become a captive CEO. And serve at their whim, for five years.
And now, there was the mystery. Mira, sniffing around for a ship. Holding out a secret. Something to do with Evan’s death – her eyes had given that away. Kate had gone out on a big limb providing Mira with a ship, even the least of what remained to her.
Everything was happening at once. Even amid the collapse of her family, Kate felt the imperative to find out more about what Mira was up to.
Perhaps there was a way. One of DelMonaco Trading’s ships had just arrived insystem, and was docked at Top Station. Kate knew the captain of that ship well. Once Mira got to Top Station, it might just happen that she would run into an old friend.
The Great Symmetry Page 6