by E. M. Foner
“Cheer up,” Kevin told her. “Everybody is enjoying themselves and they’ll have a story to tell their grandchildren as well. Most of the tunnel network species are scared silly of Teragram mages.”
“And now we know why,” Dorothy groused, indicating the space above Baa’s head which was lit up like a pinball machine with incoming payments. “I always thought that they were afraid of being turned into newts or some alien equivalent, but what’s more frightening than a superior being who only cares about your money?”
Seventeen
“Knock, knock,” Kelly announced at the open door of her office.
“Come in, Ambassador,” Phillip responded, rising from the chair. “Daniel will be with us shortly, and Clive is on his way as well. Please, I’d feel funny seeing you sitting anywhere other than behind your desk.”
“It’s all right, Phillip. It’s going to be a short conference call and I have to run to a mediation session immediately afterward.”
“I don’t doubt for a minute that you’re accomplishing more for human-alien relations as a mediator than I am trying to fill your shoes as ambassador. What’s the crisis today? Another disagreement over rights to developing a new world? Shipping losses to Horten pirates?”
“Nothing so grand,” Kelly said, settling into the guest chair and changing the subject. “Libby? Is the channel to Flower open?”
“I maintain a permanent Stryxnet connection with Flower,” the station librarian replied. “Lynx just arrived in the conference room if you wanted to start early.”
“Yes, I want to make sure she has the wedding date.”
A hologram of Lynx walking into the conference room on Flower appeared over the display desk. The former Union Station cultural attaché had her head down as she busily did a double row of buttons on the uniform top she must have just pulled on. Her head jerked up when the hologram over the large conference table appeared in her peripheral vision.
“At least we know that you’re wearing pants since we’ve seen you standing,” Kelly joked. “I suspect that some of the ambassadors I holoconference with are wearing pajama bottoms or worse under the table.”
“All the buttons make the uniform top too stiff to walk around in,” Lynx explained. “I’m negotiating with Flower to come up with an alternative, but for the time being, I only wear it at official occasions and not a second longer. Besides, you’re early.”
“I asked Libby to get a jump on the meeting so I could talk to you about the wedding,” Kelly explained. “You are still coming, I assume.”
“Absolutely. We were planning to take the bookmobile, but it turns out that the wedding is between stops, so Flower is going to jump to Union Station and pick up the latest batch of donated equipment while we’re there.”
“Great. So I have a favor to ask. Do you still have your antique camera?”
“My 35 millimeter? Sure. I even traded for some new lenses at our flea market, I mean, vintage goods bazaar, but I could use some fresh film. Do you want me to be your wedding photographer?”
“I think it would be nice to have some old-fashioned prints for an album. Jeeves insisted on taking care of the holograms. I thought he was going to ask Libby to take images with the security system, but it turns out he’s hired the Grenouthian crew from Aisha’s show.”
“The same ones who did the lost dogs commercial in Mac’s Bones?”
“Probably. That was only ten or twelve years ago and Aisha tells me that all of those network jobs have a very low turnover. I’ll order you a dozen rolls of film from Earth and have it sent out in the diplomatic bag, if that’s alright with you, Phillip.”
“Happy to be of service,” Kelly’s replacement replied.
Clive and Daniel entered the ambassador’s office at the same time, carrying their own chairs. Simultaneously, several more figures dressed in Flower’s mandated uniforms entered the remote conference room and settled around the table. Woojin took the captain’s place in the high chair, a Dollnick tradition that the colony ship’s AI refused to abandon. He adjusted his three-cornered hat self-consciously.
“Who’s the extra one?” Flower’s synthesized voice demanded. “You only registered three names for this holoconference.”
“This is Phillip Hartley, Flower,” Daniel replied immediately. “He’s Kelly’s replacement while she’s on sabbatical.”
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” Phillip said, and then whistled a short series of staccato notes.
“Oh, if you put it that way, you’re welcome to stay,” Flower responded, and added a quick trill of her own. “This must be your first time meeting my officers, but I’ve found that you Humans prefer to dispense with the formalities, so I’ll just add labels.” The hologram above Kelly’s display desk flickered, and then a tag appeared over each of the participants on the colony ship. Woojin was identified as ‘Captain Pyun,” but the others were labeled by their first names, ‘First Officer Missy,’ ‘Second Officer Lynx,’ and “Chief of Security Harold.’
“I’ve been hearing great things about the police detachment you deployed at the Break Rock asteroid mining complex,” Daniel said. “They haven’t had a single case of claim jumping since you left, and their council has signed on to our program for developing a local judiciary. I hope you can keep up with the demand as your circuit widens.”
“It’s just the habitat-based colonies that are slipping into lawlessness,” Flower’s security chief told them. “Our last couple stops were at open worlds, as you know, and the human communities in those places aren’t having any problems, knock on wood. But our next destination is an interstellar recycling facility that the Frunge outsourced to a large group of people who recently completed a twenty-five-year contract providing labor there. Unfortunately, as soon as it became known that the aliens had ceded control, criminal elements started moving in.”
“They don’t waste any time, do they?” Clive commented. “What’s the plan?”
“It’s our last stop before we head back to Union Station for resupply, so we’re equipping the detachment with all the good stuff we have left,” Woojin said. “I just hope you have some more patrol craft for us because it’s impossible to police these space-based operations without them. And armored spacesuits are just as important.”
“I’ve got good news on that front,” Daniel said. “The Vergallian ambassador has some kind of back-channel into military surplus auctions. I reached out to the delegates for our next Sovereign Human Communities Conference, and we have a tentative agreement to match donations with purchases.”
“You mean if the Vergallians give us a free ship, we’ll buy one?” Missy asked.
“The Stryx have extended a line of credit for the purpose, so they must approve,” the associate ambassador replied. “The overall numbers are so low that we don’t think it will distort the market for a while yet, and hopefully by then, we’ll be in a position to buy everything we need.”
“So what kind of numbers are you talking about?”
“We’ve got eighteen patrol craft waiting for you in long-term parking,” Daniel said. “That should cover the rest of your circuit unless somebody has gotten into a war.”
“And spacesuits?” Harold asked.
“The patrol craft come with two armored suits each, and they’re all the standard issue Vergallian models, so some of your ex-mercenaries will already be trained on them.”
“That’s more than we hoped for,” Woojin said. “I don’t want to sound greedy, but I’ve got a list of things we could really use to tide us over until the circuit takes us back to Earth.”
“Anything I can help with, Wooj?” Kelly asked. “I have to run to a mediation session in a couple of minutes.”
“The librarians want more books. What were the specific subjects, Lynx?”
“Romance, cozy mystery, and anything for young adults where they aren’t killing each other in tournaments. Oh, and whatever you can find on homesteading.”
“Got it,” Kelly said,
making a mental note. “I’ll request some classics too, since you can never have too many. But wait a second. Back before you left Earth, I thought the librarians were complaining that there wasn’t enough shelf space for the books they sent up on the elevator.”
“They’ve had to modify their philosophy,” Lynx said. “It’s a library for the people who live on Flower, but it’s kind of a second-hand bookstore for everybody else.”
“What?”
“It just isn’t practical to loan books to people when we’re only spending a week at each stop,” Flower interjected. Kelly could still see Lynx’s lips moving, so it was clear that the Dollnick AI had squelched the second officer. “I told you that a library was a silly idea for a circuit ship, but I suppose my eighteen thousand years of experience in space travel didn’t make an impression. And don’t send any more of those monographs or I’ll grind them up to reclaim the pulp.”
“Uh, got it,” Kelly said. “I’m sure the rest of you have plenty to talk about, so I’ll be off and you can fill me in later. And see you guys at the wedding,” she concluded with a wave.
As the ambassador left the embassy, Libby informed her, “Donna is on her way to Hole Universe, and your clients have already arrived.”
“Why does Flower always do that?” Kelly asked. “The Dollnick ambassador’s biggest complaint about humans during the review of our tunnel network status was that we say ‘I told you so.’ Why doesn’t their AI show the same sensibility?”
“You’re forgetting that the Dollnicks never set out to create AI on their colony ships. Flower and her kind arose spontaneously from the high level of complication and control built into the ship. She would never have been available for EarthCent to lease if her personality hadn’t caused her makers to abandon ship.”
“I suppose. I’m glad I don’t have to mediate any disputes with her as one of the parties. Hole Universe,” she added unnecessarily as she entered the lift tube. “I’m not really sure if I should have agreed to mediate this dispute. After all, I’m not exactly a disinterested party.”
“Both of the merchants know that and accepted you,” Libby said.
The capsule came to a stop and Kelly exited into the busy Little Apple commercial district, her feet automatically finding their way to Hole Universe. Donna was waiting at the counter, standing between Jan Meier and the clone who everybody knew as Chocolate Gem. The owner of the donut shop was waiting on them, and she shot Kelly a pleading look as the ambassador entered, obviously wanting to be included in the action. Kelly sighed and squared her shoulders, making room for herself between Donna and the clone.
“Jan, Chocolate,” she greeted her clients, who ironically, also happened to be major beneficiaries of her salary. “Would you prefer the privacy of a booth, or shall we do this at the counter?”
“Counter is fine by me,” the clone said. “I think of Helen as a friend,” she added, nodding to the owner of the donut shop.
“As do I,” Jan said, scowling at the Gem. “Helen has attended many of the tastings at my shop and I trust her judgment implicitly.”
“Then it’s settled,” Kelly agreed. “I have to inform you all that as a matter of standard procedure, I’ve asked the station librarian to record this mediation session. Before we proceed to the mediation which the two of you have agreed on, I want to request again that you consider settling this dispute without my help.”
“The time for idle chatter is past,” Jan declared. “If it weren’t for careless words, we wouldn’t need to be here.”
“There was nothing careless about my advertisement,” Chocolate Gem retorted. “I reviewed the English text with the expert editors at the Galactic Free Press.”
“The ad stated that Sweet Dreams sells the best chocolate on Union Station,” the owner of the Chocolate Emporium fired back. “That is an exclusionary statement which implies that my chocolate is substandard.”
“Why can’t both of you sell the best chocolate on Union Station?” Kelly said. “You know I split my business between you for a reason.”
“How can two shops have the best chocolate?” the Swiss expatriate demanded scornfully. “Both of us can sell good chocolate, both of us can sell great chocolate, but she’s the one who had to claim that hers is the best.”
“Chocolate?” Kelly asked the clone, and it struck her for the first time that the Gem’s nickname could lead to confusion.
Chocolate Gem removed the plastic wrap from her tray and slid it down the counter in front of the two EarthCent employees. “Eat,” she ordered. “Jan and I flipped a coin before you arrived and my chocolate is going first. You too, Helen. Three judges eliminates the possibility of a tie.”
“I’m really not sure—” Kelly tried again, but this time it was Donna who interrupted her.
“Why don’t we sample the chocolate first?” Donna said, elbowing her friend in the side at the same time. “Good chocolate has a mood-enhancing effect that could be conducive to negotiation.”
“That’s right,” the owner of Hole Universe agreed, taking up a triangular wedge with an almond on top. She closed her eyes as she began to chew, and then stopped to allow the chocolate time to melt in her mouth.
Kelly gave in and selected a rounded piece that was as high as it was wide, suggesting a hidden treasure inside. When her teeth broke through the rich shell and released the coconut filling onto her tongue, her knees almost buckled, and she had to lean forward against the counter.
Donna snatched up one of the Gem’s specialties, a milk chocolate shaped and textured like a raspberry, with a bit of green mint leaf where the stem would be, and filled with raspberry preserve.
“You too, Jan,” the clone said, pushing the tray a little farther so that the proprietor of the Chocolate Emporium could reach it. “We agreed.”
Scowling, the man reached for the plainest bar of chocolate on offer and examined the color. He held it off to the side of his head and snapped it angrily, paying close attention to the sound. Then he sniffed at the broken ends, and a puzzled look appeared on his face. After he popped one of the pieces into his mouth and ground it between his molars, his expression changed to one of surprise.
“Well?” Kelly asked, having just recovered enough from her own tasting experience to manage the single word.
“Good,” Donna said, reaching for another piece.
Helen just nodded vigorously and did the same.
“Wait,” Kelly ordered, pulling the tray away from them. “You have to say more than that.”
“What do you want?” Donna asked in irritation. “Herbaceous overtones with a hint of mint and a smooth finish? Excellent body with strong bean characteristics?”
“Nutty,” Helen contributed, leaving it ambiguous whether she was talking about the almond or the ambassador.
“Not terrible,” the Swiss chocolatier admitted.
“No, we have to try his now,” Kelly remonstrated the other two women, pushing the Gem’s tray back to the clone. “Here, I brought everybody an apple and a breadstick to clear your palette. Do you have any seltzer, Helen?”
“You’re taking all of the fun out of this,” the donut shop owner complained, but she retrieved a bottle of sparkling water from her fridge and poured a glass for each of them. “You know, I let a couple of bakery fanatics schedule a tasting here once, but I had to kick them out when they started stroking the donuts to judge the texture and poking holes with their fingertips to determine the surface tension or something. They were making the other customers lose their appetites.”
“I’m just trying to be fair,” Kelly said defensively. “I take the mediation business seriously.”
“You’re getting paid to do this?”
“Yes. Well, I negotiated my fee in chocolate, but it comes to the same thing.”
“My turn,” Jan said, pushing a silver tray down the counter to Donna, who reluctantly slid it in front of Kelly so the Gem could also reach.
Kelly swallowed a hastily chewed hash of bread a
nd apple, wondering if she should have taken them separately, followed by a sip of sparkling water, which she swished around in her mouth. Then she selected a small masterpiece of a sculpted chocolate and bit into it eagerly. The other two women each took a piece, and the clone reluctantly chose a small pyramid-shaped chunk of dark chocolate.
Donna was the first to speak. “It’s too close to call. I’m going to need to sample them both again.”
“Me too,” Helen agreed immediately.
“I’ve had worse,” the clone said, though her dilated pupils suggested that she wasn’t telling the whole story. “What did you think, Ambassador?”
“That’s right, Kelly. You never gave your opinion of Herr Meier’s chocolate either,” Donna accused her.
“No, I didn’t,” the ambassador said, stepping back from the counter. “I only agreed to this tasting to demonstrate the futility of choosing between two artists of such high achievement. I have two children who are very different, but I love them both equally. Would you ask me to choose between them?”
“You’re comparing your children to chocolate?” the clone asked in astonishment. “It’s just food in the end.”
“You have to keep things in perspective,” Jan added. “Chocolate is my livelihood but it’s not my life.”
“Exactly,” the ambassador declared triumphantly. “Here the two of you could be great friends and colleagues, but instead you’re arguing over a few words of ad copy that nobody else on the station would remember if you asked them. Excuse me,” she called to a young couple who were just entering Hole Universe. “Who makes the best chocolate on Union Station?”
“This place,” the man replied with a happy grin. “Their triple chocolate donut is out of this world.”
Helen stepped back from the counter looking embarrassed as the two chocolatiers glared at her. “They’re just kids,” she mumbled. “I put a lot of sugar in the mix.”
“All I’m saying is that the two of you have far more in common than any small differences over marketing,” Kelly continued, feeling herself on a roll. “I know better than anyone that you both have more business than you can handle. How many times have I come to your shops only to find out that you’d sold out of everything?”