In the end it was a close fought match. The a final score, 10-8 against the Gooseberry’s, who ran out of steam in the last ten minutes, allowing the Panda’s to score three goals on the trot. Daphne was still buzzing straight after the game, but by the time the Doherty’s left, after an hour of a buffet and drinks for the two teams and their parents, she was fast asleep in her father’s arms. Valerie carried the equally worn out and asleep Bobbie, as they walked out to their little runabout.
Runabouts were small, four or six seater hovercars, with a maximum speed of forty kilometres an hour. Little more than seats, a tiny thruster and power unit, all encased in a carbonfibre body, mounted on a set of anti-gravs, it was a perfect vehicle for short trips around town. The Doherty’s drove a very basic four seat, silver, Garda Squire, looking not much different than a stylised floating box.
Valerie and Tom slipped the kids into their seats. They didn’t stir as the automatic safety harnesses deployed around them. Valerie got into the driver’s seat, in the front right hand side and Tom joined her on the left. Aircars generally had dual controls, it made little difference if you were on the right or left. Ground vehicles all had to conform to basic road rules. It was universal practise across the Pantheon, to drive on the left hand side of the road. Most other planets in known space also used the same rule. Conversely on Earth, the Home world of all of humanity they drove on the right, at least where there was any semblance of law and order.
The Squire hummed gently as they pulled out from the Pownall Park School and Valerie relaxed as she drove them home.
“Looking forward to your birthday tomorrow, love?” Tom asked her.
“I’m certainly wondering what you’re going to get me this year,” she replied with a smile. “There’s no way you can top the Kingfisher.” She glanced over to her husband and said a little more seriously. “And you don’t need to. You know I’m just a simple girl.” Valerie looked over her shoulder to the two kids fast asleep in the back. “You’ve given me all I’ve ever wanted already.”
Tom nodded back, his eyes full of love. “They’re just as much a gift from you to me, Ell.” Then he chuckled with his deep voice, sending a shiver down Valerie’s spine, just as it did the first day they met. “I knew you’d love the Kingfisher and besides, there is no way I’d be able to slip something like that past you two years in a row. It was hard enough to organise the first time. I had to get both of our tykes properly wound up to distract you loudly enough, so you wouldn’t hear them land the thing right outside the house!”
Valerie laughed out loud at her husband’s confession. “I couldn’t believe at the time you’d fed them all that chocolate. They were bouncing off the walls! I knew you were up to something when you went to ‘take the bins out.’ I had no clue you were having an aircar delivered.”
“Good. Do you have any idea how hard trying to surprise a person with your hearing is?” Tom had worked out, just as her children, she was physically more capable than most people. Daphne and Bobbie didn’t question it, Mummy was just Mummy and Tom never pushed her. For that Valerie was profoundly grateful and it was just one of the many things she cherished him for.
“Are your two co-conspirators in on your nefarious plans tomorrow?” she asked.
“They may have some idea.” Tom said with as guileless an expression as he could come up with. He grinned. “I promise though. No hyper bouncing kids this time.”
They rode in companionable silence for a few moments. “How are things at work?” she asked. “Sorry, it’s been so hectic. I haven’t had a chance to ask you. Is Aamir happy with your work on the Sandy Shores development?” Tom didn’t say anything and Valerie could sense he was wrestling with something. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Tom’s silence stretched out further before he answered her. “The projects behind and we’re projecting a delay of almost eighteen months.” His voice was almost grim and that surprised her, it was unlike him to be this concerned over something. He was a numbers man, it was pretty implausible the cause of the delay would be down to him or his team. “Someone has been skimming off the bottom.”
Valerie frowned, not really understanding what the problem was. Tom was one of those rare people who were content with what he had and would be satisfied with less, as long as his family were happy and comfortable. Valerie counted herself as one of those as well. It was a principal reason why their very different lives complimented each other so well. She knew Tom wouldn’t be skimming, but everyone knew it happened and turned a blind eye.
“That’s not exactly news is it? You’ve seen skimming before.”
“Not on this scale, Ell. It looks like the entire Sandy Shores project was set up from the start to make someone an enormous amount of money. I had a quiet word with Aamir and even he had no idea how much was going through the books. It’s a 50/50 set up. The Government put in half and dozens of private investors have put their own money in for the rest. All of the public money is gone, siphoned off through dozens of different conduits. You expect a certain amount of graft, these days I allow at least ten percent for various pay offs, bribes and sweet heart deals. This is a whole other level and that’s really not the big issue.
“No one even bats an eyelid when public money goes walk about. You always use the Government’s cash for the kickbacks. The big problem here is, a full fifteen percent of the investors’ money has been creamed off. These are some really powerful people someone has been stealing from. I shouldn’t be telling you this but it includes Arnold Ison, Darby Pope and Lateef Crowder.”
Valerie whistled softly. “Someone has got some really big-” she stopped herself from finishing that sentence. Remembering both Daphne and Bobbie had excellent timing on when they woke up. She’d learnt early on to guard her tongue in their presence, no matter how asleep they may seem. “To steal from them,” she continued. “That’s going to have all sorts of consequences, none of them are going to take that lying down. I heard Crowder has ruined people for much, much less.”
Tom snorted in response. “That’s an understatement. Ison is the really dangerous one though, he’s a Senator and you remember that tale my mother was telling us a couple of years ago?”
“Yeah, I do. Arnold got his cousin in the Justice department to investigate the entire Tsuchiya Family after one of them reneged on the Rives deal.”
“My mother said dozens went to prison for corruption, extortion and perversions that were beyond the pale. Everything no one talks about was brought out into the light. All because one person cost Ison a couple of million. That’s pocket change compared to what he’s already lost on Sandy Shores and that’s only going to get bigger. To be honest, I don’t think it will be completed. I think it’s all going to get written off, blamed on poor workmanship of the builders, sink holes that weren’t discovered and a half a dozen other excuses. Nothing at all to do with how the money was actually spent or so they must think, but I just can’t see that standing up to any sort of scrutiny.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know, Ell. Aamir and I discussed it and we don’t know where to go. If we report it up the chain, it’s going to go to the person who’s masterminded the scam. You can guarantee they won’t like us rocking the boat. If we tell the investors, all hell is going to break loose and who knows how that is going to play out. Even if we say nothing and keep our heads down, Ison or Crowder are going to rip the whole thing apart until they find out what happened. Aamir and I are the ones who are ultimately responsible for the money, so I bet we end up being used as the scapegoats. We’ve been putting feelers out to our most influential contacts, to give them the heads up we’re going to be calling in every favour and marker we’ve got along with promising a load more. Our only chance is to get ahead of the train wreck that’s heading our way, building ourselves a pretty strong base, so we can survive the fallout.”
Valerie didn’t like the sound of this and made a mental note. It was time to break one of her rules
. She promised herself at the beginning, she would never mix Eleanor and Valerie’s lives. This sounded so bad, Tom was going to need whatever help he could get. Major Valerie Carter of Shadow Company had more than a few big markers owed to her. If she put a few quiet calls in to the right Generals and Admirals, they in turn could get members of their own Families in the Government, who knew not to ask questions, involved. That would bolster Tom’s support base considerably.
“How urgent is it Tom? I can have a chat with some of my more regular diplomats when I get back to the base next week.” Valerie lied to her husband for the umpteenth time. “They’ve all got excellent connections that I think can really help. If you need it done sooner, I can com them tomorrow.”
“That would be great, Ell, thank you.” He said with quite a bit of relief in his voice and then smiled somewhat crookedly. “Don’t worry though. It’s all not going to explode overnight. It can wait until you are back at base. It’ll probably be OK for the next couple of months at least.”
“What’s going to explode Daddy?” A sleepy voice enquired from the back of the car.
“Mummy will explode with happiness when she opens her presents tomorrow, Bobbie.” Tom said, diverting their son easily, just as all parents learnt to do throughout time, when they heard something their parents didn’t want them to.
“Yes, Mummy, wait till you see them!!” Bobbie exclaimed excitedly.
Valerie laughed. “I can’t wait, Bobbie, but you don’t want to spoil the surprises.”
“No, Mummy.”
“Well, we’re home now.” Tom cheerfully announced as they turned into their driveway and Valerie took them straight up to the house, passed her much bigger Kingfisher and Tom’s Garnet, a more functional and common type of aircar, and into the small garage. “Is Daphne still asleep, Bobbie?”
“Yep.” The boy replied a little smugly.
“I’ll get Daph if you get Bobbie.” Tom said to his wife.
“Of course. You might as well take her straight to bed. I bet she’ll sleep through until morning.” Valerie replied and with the kids in their arms, the family all headed into their home.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Open this one, Mummy. Open this one.” Bobbie exclaimed, holding out a ragged, but rather brightly wrapped package to Valerie. The family were all sitting on the thickly carpeted floor, leaning against the plush sofas in the lounge. The sun shone through the windows on this fine Saturday morning. The big Visual Image Screen on the wall was playing the feed from a local radio station, while showing an idyllic vision of a sun dappled forest floor.
Although the screen could project a full hologram, people found, with a few exceptions, they preferred a flat image that did not intrude upon their environment. In much the same way, “radio” stations, outputting sound only media, still had a large and enthusiastic following. If you are working, relaxing, cooking, driving or doing a myriad of other activities, people preferred to listen to music, news and chat shows, without the distraction of a visual image. Even sports were still covered by Radio as well as Visual Image. It took a completely different style of commentary to properly convey what is happening, when your audience can’t see.
“Thank you, Bobbie, is this one from you?” Valerie asked her son.
“Yep,” he said happily as she gently pulled the paper apart. Inside was the model of a Legion Jester class cruiser Bobbie showed her over two months ago.
It was difficult to sometimes know what the four year old would remember telling or showing her from one visit or com call to another, as she could be out of touch for months at a time. Valerie had been caught out, by presuming he would remember what she would consider significant to him, when he would not have a clue. There would be other times when he would carry on a conversation with her from months before, while she struggled to catch up with what he was talking about, at the time she hadn’t thought it was any more than a child’s normal babble.
“That’s great, Bobbie, I’ll take this with me and display it in my quarters aboard ship.” He beamed back at her, happy that she would treasure it. She placed the model carefully on the table next to her.
“Here.” Tom said as he passed her a box that was wide and tall but only twenty centimetre’s deep. The box was wrapped neatly in tasteful black paper with Happy Birthday, printed in stylised gold lettering, scattered all over and topped off with a somewhat scruffy gold bow. “Last one and this one is from all of us.”
“Ooh, what’s in here?” Valerie said in anticipation as she gave it a gently shake. It had some weight to it, but not a lot compared to its size. The contents slid around softly in response to her inquisitiveness. “Did you do the bow, Daphne?” Valerie guessed.
The blonde girl nodded in reply with a smile as wide as Bobbie’s. “Daddy helped and the shop wrapped the paper.”
“Traitor!” Tom exclaimed with a laugh. “I was going to tell Mummy I’d wrapped it.”
“Oh, come on, Daddy.” Daphne said seriously. “She would never believe that.”
Valerie laughed. “She’s right, Tom, you have many talents, but wrapping is most definitely not one of them.”
“Look who’s talking!” Tom shot back. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a present that you’ve personally wrapped. The shop assistants know to get the paper out as soon as you walk through their door.”
“Well, yes.” Valerie said with mock indignation. “Some of us just don’t have the time.”
“Oh, stop making excuses, Little Miss Perfect, and open your present.”
Valerie grinned back at her husband and ripped the paper off the box with relish. Inside was an elegant royal blue box with the words Sergei Lavrov in flowing silver script, denoting one of the most prestigious clothing companies on Olympus. Along with their very expensive, stylish, but understated clothes, they specialised in bespoke orders. Sergei Lavrov boasted they could make anything, to any specification, that anybody would wish, for a rather large price tag. It was quite the height of fashion to have clothes made to order in your own unique style, rather than buy something that was manufactured, no matter how exclusive.
Valerie raised her eyebrows at Tom in an unspoken question. Like the Kingfisher, it was quite a way outside what they would normally spend. He just shrugged back at her. “You’re worth it,” he simply said, not looking the least bit guilty. She made a mental note to have a word with him later. Yes he earned a stupendous amount of money, but they were saving for Daphne and Bobbie’s education. They had already bought the Life X treatments for both of the kids. They were squirreled away in a safety deposit box in the city.
It always surprised Valerie when she thought about it that something so important, having such a massive impact on an individual’s life and cost so much, was actually delivered in a simple twenty-five millilitre hypo. You did not even need a trained professional to administer it. All you needed to do was press the business end against the skin of the upper arm of the recipient and activate it. As long as this was done at some point between the receivers sixteenth and seventeenth birthdays, it would work perfectly to slow down the aging process, allowing them to live for centuries. It even had a shelf life of one hundred years. Families ended up stock piling it, to future proof their descendants against any downturn in their circumstances. Life X really would make an unquantifiable difference in Daphne and Bobbie’s lives, but going to the right school and having excellent grades was just as important.
That was certainly for another time, right now, she really wanted to know what Tom and the kids had bought her. The box lid slid off easily and Valerie carefully pulled back the protective lining, expecting some sort of dress. What she didn’t expect was what looked like a long, dark, almost black, heavy overcoat. She pulled it out of box with a somewhat tentative feeling. It looked like a very ordinary coat worn by many of the Manuals, though it wasn’t made out of the cheap, mass produced fibre, that caused them to wear out in just a few years. It even looked slightly worn already.
Tom
must have read the expression on her face as he laughed out loud. “See,” he said to the kids. “She has no idea. Surprising someone is only half the fun. It’s just as much fun to see if they figure out why you’ve given them the gift,” he turned to Valerie. “Come on, admit it. You think I’ve gone mad.”
“I thought you went mad years ago.” Valerie retorted. “I’m not sure…” She started then paused and shrugged. “OK, you’ve got me. Why did you get a coat made that you could have bought from almost anywhere, for a hundredth of the price.”
“Put it on.” Tom said with a grin. Valerie looked at him with a little bit of consternation and then thought she might as well indulge him. She stood up and slipped the coat on.
“OK, it fits perfectly and it is very comfortable.” She looked down. “Good length too, it will be just above my favourite boots.”
“Yep, I took them a holo scan of your dimensions. The kids picked out several different sets of the boots and shoes you prefer, which I scanned as well. That was just the organisation. The clever bit is the coat itself.” Valerie looked at him sceptically and his expression turned a bit serious. “I’ve been out in the Ghettos a time or two, for different construction projects, and I could see just how far I stick out. I can imagine you have a similar experience in the Boundary and Origin worlds.
“That coat is designed to be as nondescript as possible, but is made of top-of-the-line fabrics and materials. It will last you for decades, keep you warm at minus twenty degree centigrade and cool in fifty degree heat. It has hidden pockets, with anti-detection lining, capable of fooling even top of the line military grade scanners and, well I could go on and on, but you can read the manual. The point is it will let you move around in all those lovely places they send you in comfort, without having a flashing sign over your head saying you’re one of the rich, decadent and obnoxious Pantheonians to be reviled.”
Reason For Vengeance (Dark Vengeance Book 1) Page 9