by Ted Mayes
Finally all the arranging was done and all the supplies were laid out for the next morning. Beth saw her parents look at each other and then they did one of those oh-so-annoying-to-their-children things when they seemed to be able to read each other's mind. Together they told Jamie that she was their first employee and her first job was to spread the news that Jordan's would be open at 6AM in the morning, her second assignment to come in with her schedule in the morning and they'd start figuring out a schedule. Jamie left, high as a kite again with excitement, and Beth and her parents left much more sedately, heading for Pietro's to wait Larry and Becky.
It was a wonderful evening. Just being with all the family was good to begin with, and then they had the chance to try out lots of Pietro's food. Every adult ordered something different – lasagna, ravioli, fettuccine, pizza, whatever else they wanted – and then everyone sampled everything. There was only one small difficulty – when the waiter poured a glass of wine for Beth, she noticed her parents had a strange reaction. It took her a minute or two to figure out what it was and then she realized it was her age – at 17 she was still considered underage in the outside world. So she explained to all the adults what Jon had said, that being an Imperial Marine, she was legally an adult by imperial law. Although, she added, she might be the only 'underage' Marine in history, since the rules about being 18 to join up were strict, and the only loophole, which Jon had used to get her in for Becky's treatment, was now firmly closed.
Beth's Mom and Dad recounted what had happened to them, although Beth was very reassured
that they described her contribution as nothing more than 'passing a message along to someone.' Becky had shared some stories of the latest things that Brent and Sophie had done. Then everyone had wanted to hear about Beth's first day at high school. She noticed Becky's eyes widen when she mentioned “lunar rocks” and she realized her sister hadn't been told about her 'trip', but she saw her Mom mouth the word 'later' so Beth continued her story. When she got to the end of the story, about the meeting in the principal's office at the end of the day, something surprised Larry. “What did your Molly say her capabilities were?” he said.
“Molly, please repeat what you told Mr. Simpson earlier today.”
“Yes, Beth. I said 'Also because of the great dissimilarity between your systems and ours, I can only give approximations. In your terms my speed is about 500 terraflops and presently I have only about 10 petabytes of RAM. Of course, I'm only a common paedagogus and so not necessarily a true indication of imperial computing ability.'”
Larry let out a low whistle. “My current computer is a 386 machine, operating at 40 MHz with 8 megabytes of RAM. ”
“See,” Beth said, “that's my problem – I don't even know what that's all supposed to mean. It's frustrating to have this feeling of not knowing what's going on.”
There was a brief, thoughtful pause, then her Dad said, “I think that all of us are feeling like that, especially today, … but we're not going to solve the world's problems, here, tonight. Larry, Becky, would you and the kids like to walk over and see 'Jordan's'?”
The rest joyfully agreed to go inspect the new coffeehouse, but Beth begged off. She didn't have any official assignments, but she wanted to get started on her homework anyway. She said goodnight to her family and strolled to the nearest elevator, heading down to her apartment. “Molly, is Jon still at his apartment?”
“Yes, Beth. George says he's still studying, reading Plato's The Republic to be exact.”
“Molly,” she said a second later, “you heard what Jamie said earlier about the problem that clerks have with human dating, right? Can you tell me what is so difficult for clerks?”
“I'll try, Beth. It's not so much the human actions in themselves. It is more that a dating relationship seems to change certain actions from criminal to permissible, and my colleagues and I are not able to discern reliably when a couple is 'dating.' For example, a man grabs a woman to give her a kiss – in marriage or in 'dating' this is permissible, but outside of those relationships it would be considered an assault. Similarly, if a woman were to strike a man, either seriously or in fun, it would never be anything but assault ordinarily, but it can be permissible in closer relationships.”
“So you are able to recognize the differences, just not when the situation has become different?”
“Exactly. Even in marriage, there is a definite 'start' to the relationship and in the case of conjugium, a definite 'end' to the relationship.”
By this time she was in the apartment. She dropped her bags, glad to be done with their weight, and stripped off her dress coat and draped it over the back of the nearest chair. An idea had been building in the back of her mind and what she hoped would happen next wouldn't require a marine uniform. “Two things, or rather, three. One, check the regulations to see whether I have to carry both pistols on current duty. I will if I have to, but I'd rather not. Check to see if I can just carry the stun gun. Two, find some resources on marriage and dating from imperial sources, in connection with what we just were discussing.” She took a breath and crossed her fingers. “Third, contact George next door and have him tell Jon that I'm here – and … does he have time for a break?” she ended with a rush.
“Done. The information on items one and two will be available very quickly. As for number three, George says that Jon says to ask if you'd like to go for a walk?”
“Tell him I'll meet him outside in a minute,” and Beth hurried to the bathroom to check her hair and outfit.
8 – September 1993
As soon as Amanda's story on the trial farm hit the news, Michael could tell the tidal wave of interest was starting to arrive, and when the story of the trip to the moon was published, the wave of interest really hit. In general, there were two types of reaction to the story. One type was the 'expert' who had something important to say – usually that the way the empire was running the farm wouldn't work, that a trip to the moon was impossible or that the empire would destroy the planet, or any of several dozen 'unique' views that required the emperor to follow their orders. Those individuals were ignored and refused entrance to Ostia. There were a few protests, but they were ignored, for the moment.
The other reaction was more substantial. Usually the first step was a phone call to find out if the claims made in the stories were serious. The phone calls about the farm received an invitation to visit Ostia and see the experimental farm itself. Very soon, serious young men, and even some middle-aged ones, arrived at Ostia, toured the experimental farm and asked for further details about the offer the emperor was making. These were offered the chance to take a tour of the actual properties. A surprising number made arrangements to return with their wives and family. Phone calls about visiting the moon resulted in names being added to a list of future Moon tourists.
Michael smiled as he read those reports, which he shared with Amanda so she could see the impact of her work. It had become necessary to go to two flights to Capitol a day, to provide room for all the marines and interested farmers who were 'stepping up'. It would soon become necessary to go to three flights, or start 'civilian' flights. The most interesting part was that the movement was truly international. Among the farmer candidates, some were Americans (including some Old Amish families), but some were Latin American 'peasants', some wine growers from Italy or France, farmers from the Ukraine or Rhodesia, even a couple of Brazilian coffee growers. Branches of several agencies, including the Imperial Bank, had to be set up in Capitol and staffed because the effects of the 'immigration' were starting to be felt in Capitol.
* * * * *
Amanda was thrilled to think her words had such an effect, but it was tempered with a little what-have-I-done fear. To be truthful, part of the fear was the fact that Michael had started to show her some of his reports. After all, it had only been about three weeks since her trial for trying to steal some of the very documents that he was now showing her.
She'd had a few conversations with Robe
rt Stafford, the British attaché, about her confusing situation, which she called her Stockholm syndrome. He had pointed out to her that the 'official' description of that required that she needed to be 'intermittently harassed, beaten, threatened, abused or intimidated' by Michael to supposedly suffer from the syndrome, and, though he was no expert, some of the shouting she'd done at Michael in his presence didn't seem to indicate much suffering or abuse. She tried to insist that she was intimidated, but he only answered that he was intimidated by the empire too, as any sane individual would be, so she gave up arguing with him on the subject.
The arrival of more press from across the world caused her more trouble. The press 'hang-out' at Claire's had gotten too crowded, so a large room on the first floor of the Quirinal building on the Via Schola was provided as a place for the press to meet and ask questions. Unfortunately, it seemed that all the press had gotten used to asking her questions. Now she was trying to convince a wide range of reporters that she was not 'the official government spokesperson' as they were trying to describe her – maybe some kind of unofficial spokesman, but hardly official.
The whole ludicrous situation did have one interesting development. Many of the reporters had a hard time thinking that Amanda was a slave, which was hardly surprising since Amanda herself had a hard time understanding her situation. Some reporters, in particular one from a Far Eastern country that was to remain nameless, became convinced that Amanda was Michael's mistress. That idea was considered reasonable – until Michael heard about it. In a cold fury, he'd ordered the offending reporter immediately expelled from Ostia for 'insulting the Imperial Consul by publicly accusing him of a capital crime.' The marines who had done the removal had not been particularly kind in doing so, and so the press corps from then on had officially been as confused about her status as Amanda was.
* * * * *
That first week of school, Beth had two major problems that were slowly but surely driving her crazy. The first was simply that high school was so different from the rest of her life that there were times she was sure was living some kind of dream – and couldn't tell which part of her life was the dream and which part was the normal. She was the normal high school girl for most of the school day, handing in assignments, taking notes, chatting with friends – although there were incongruous moments like the science teacher privately asking her something about being on the moon, or the civics teacher asking her questions about current events.
Then she'd return to Ostia for her afternoon 'job' at the Foreign Department. As an optio, she'd been put in charge of a number of Latins, privates, and civilians, staffing a 'phone bank.' They received calls from all over the world, most just asking for information or wanting their name put on a list for something or wanting to leave a message for someone. Most of the time it was not a big concern, and she even had time to do some homework.
There were times, though, and one episode was memorable. Some scientist had called, upset that he hadn't gotten an immediate answer to a message. When the civilian tried to explain that all messages were dealt with in the order they were received, the scientist began ranting how important he was and the call was immediately passed to Beth, who listened, as patiently as she could, as the scientist got more and more hysterical. Finally, he'd screamed, 'Now, do you know who I am?' She'd answered, 'No. Do you know who the emperor is? I do, and that's much more important!' and she'd ended the call.
She'd gone back to studying and hadn't really thought anything of it, but on her way home, the increased silence and respect from the other girls finally made sense. Oh, no – the others thought that she was claiming to know the emperor personally, to know who the emperor really was! She'd immediately had Molly contact Augustus, and she explained the situation. Thankfully, he'd said not to worry – that her words had not been improper, and that any misunderstanding that resulted would actually help the emperor further confuse those who were trying to identify him.
The other problem driving her crazy was Jon. Jon and dating, or rather Jon and not dating, or rather how in the world to date Jon and not have others peeking in on them – heavens, maybe even the emperor – not even to mention two sets of parents. She knew he was interested in dating, too, in fact they had discussed the whole question thoroughly, even including Molly and George in the discussion. They'd thought they'd finally reached a solution. Hopefully that very night they'd see whether the solution would work – and maybe that was why the night was memorable and not because of the cranky scientist.
When she got to her apartment that night, Jon was sitting outside with another guy. They waited while she dropped all her burdens and came back outside. Jon introduced the other guy, a student studying art and 'specializing' in jewelry, whose name she promptly forgot. The jewelry guy said, “The first-year guy was telling me the problem, which is no surprise because it's been a pain in the rear for everyone for years. Is this going to satisfy the clerks?”
“We hope so,” Jon and Beth both said, almost in unison.
“So do all of us,” the jewelry guy said. “Here they are, two simple silver rings, sized for the right hand, little finger, his initials on her ring and hers on his ring. Now, one denarius from each of you to show you're both serious and doing this freely, and then we'll see if it does the job.”
They both handed over a denarius, took the rings and put them on their little fingers. Then Beth said, “OK, Molly, is that a 'clearly discernible sign', like you were talking about?”
“Yes, Beth, and George and I will disregard the activities that we discussed earlier.”
“Thanks,” Beth said, grabbing Jon's hand. “Sorry,” she said to the jewelry guy, “but we're going for a walk.”
“No problem,” the jewelry guy said. “I'm going home and make up some more, because I'm going to sell a bunch of them tomorrow and make a ton of money.”
* * * * *
When Amanda's story of the trip to the moon was published, complete with as much video as anyone wanted, the tidal weight of interest had finally arrived, but there were plenty of doubters. However the video, the radar tracking of the flight, the appearance of new lunar samples and the statements of former astronauts (several of whom had taken second and third flights up) didn't leave a whole lot of room for doubts to flourish. The long list of people who wanted to be a moon tourist got even longer.
Michael's main problem was coordinating events so the whole circus didn't get completely out of hand. For instance, the stripped-down 'commercial' plane had been ordered many months before, but he had wanted the 'delivery' to be managed before the confused manufacturer or any one else could guess what was going on. The latest report said the ship would be ready in a week, and then, after tests, it would be ready for the first flight. The only problem was the name. The Fleet artisans had wanted it to be named after the emperor, but he had declined the honor while thanking them for the good wishes. No, the order had come down that it would be the ISS America in honor of their host. The second would be the ISS Russia (Michael was to get out the order for the second one) and further ships would be named for other countries with astronauts.
Michael did manage to find something humorous in what was happening, an opinion that Tommy and Amanda both shared. Beth, and Jon to a certain extent, was having an enormous effect on events, without intending it or even, apparently, without realizing it. Their 'invention' of a 'dating ring' had been instantly popular and the young craftsman of the rings had made a lot of money almost instantly. Which had led to him opening a small shop near the university. Which had attracted the attention of a number of guests. Which had led to the craftsman producing a brochure explaining what these 'imperial silver' rings meant and listing with some delicacy the permitted actions (technically, the activities a clerk would ignore between two people in a 'dating relationship'). Which had led to a surprising interest in the rings by guests in Ostia. (Which had led to many discussions around the university of why the interest on the part of those who had no clerks, the current p
opular theory suggesting that there was some innate desire for some clear boundaries.)
Now Michael could read a short memo that said sales of rings to non-Latins was climbing and there was a possibility of it turning into a full-blown 'fad.' Meanwhile, Beth and Jon seemed to be totally unaware of what they had started.
Nor was that the only thing. Beth had, apparently, been wearing clothes she'd bought in Ostia to high school. It hadn't meant anything to Michael, other than that she looked cute, but Amanda had done some investigating. He'd been informed that many of the dress shops were actually 'designer boutiques' (whatever that meant) which sold (1) original designs (2) tailored specifically for the individual customer (3) delivered virtually on the spot (4) for a ridiculously low price because (5) some designer had figured out how to have their clerk cut the cloth and 'fuse' the seams – all of which meant, Amanda had said, he'd better expect a lot more shoppers at Ostia, and a lot more young (?) designers wanting to open up shops.
Apparently, what Beth had been wearing had been recognized as something special very quickly, and just as quickly fellow students, school secretaries and teachers had come to Ostia to investigate. Then they'd brought their relatives and their friends. In fact, it was turning out exactly as Amanda had said. That led to a problem because it was actually bringing in more guests, shoppers, than Michael had expected. Not that it was a computer problem, rather the urban praetor had decided there had to be a quick, visual way for marines to identify Latin from foreigner. So ID's were to be displayed on lanyards, at least for the time being.
On the other hand, Amanda's story on clerks, while sketchy to say the least, had set off another wave of protests that such things were impossible. It had also started a barrage of phone calls requesting permission to purchase a 'clerk.' Those requests were politely but firmly denied. Curiously, that had led to offers of rewards for anyone who would provide a 'clerk' to those unnamed people who were offering the reward.