"Then who would be bugging me if it isn't you?" the man said, still in an accusing mode.
"My dear fellow, you have decided I am aware of all sorts of things because you are sure I'm guilty. You're working backwards from that assumption, which leads to all sorts of false conclusions. You think I am interested in bugging you, or if not I must know what other parties would be interested in doing so. Just to demonstrate how badly this misleads you, please stop and consider this. I have no idea at all, who the bloody hell you are!" Jeff said the last part running thin on patience.
Anger slowly faded to dismay, and finally he just said, "Oh. . . "
"Run it through verification software if you don't believe me. We could see by how you're dressed you're an Earthie. I know the legal restraints on it below. Nobody here gives a jolly fig if you use it," Jeff invited him.
"I don't even have that sort of program on my pad," he admitted. "I'm Jim Weir. I spoke to you on com. You expressed interest in my old paper."
"Yes, but you had the video off when I called, and academic papers don't usually feature portraits of the authors," Jeff pointed out. "I'm interested in the paper, but I didn't really care what you look like at all. I suppose if I were interested enough to put spy bots onto you I'd have researched that, I'll give you that. Please don't be offended, but I really wasn't interested deeply enough to hunt down a public image."
"I believe you. I'm sorry I intruded," he offered and straightened like he would leave.
"Before you march off, may I give you a small warning?" Jeff asked.
"Yes. . . " Jim said, wary now that he'd provoked Jeff.
"There is no way I'd have touched that bot you just put down," Jeff said. "Even if I thought it was fried. It might reorganize and bypass damaged areas and activate again. I'd as soon touch that creepy thing as get my chewing gum off the bottom of a public bench."
"What would you have done then?" James asked.
"Oddly enough, I've been in that situation before," Jeff revealed. "I flicked the little bot into a safe container with a knife. It self destructed, and we vacated the cubic in case the smoke was toxic and went to medical to be checked out. How did you kill this little fellow? If it were very good you shouldn't have ever seen it."
"It crawled into my larger work computer and shorted out the wireless board. Do you think I should go to your clinic?" James asked.
"Frankly, if it was weaponized, I think you'd be dead by now. I'll ask the cafeteria people for a safe container to keep it. I'd just suggest you go in the restroom there and wash your hands."
James nodded assent and trotted off to do that.
"Would you please ask somebody for a jar or bottle from the kitchen, and something to wipe the table?" Jeff asked April.
"What are you going to do?" April wanted to know.
"I'm going to sit right here and watch it," Jeff said.
When James returned the bot was in a small glass jar, a relative rarity on Home, and Wanda was wiping the table with a disinfectant spray. She also took their dishes away rather than commingle them with the others on the exit rack. She said nothing but gave James a dirty look when she left. Enough so he noticed it.
"Pay no mind to Wanda," April said, when James looked a bit sheepish at her glare. "She still gets crabby occasionally."
"As compared to when?" James asked.
"Compared to before she got married," April said. "It's been good for her."
"Do you want the. . . remains?" Jeff asked, gesturing at the jar.
"No, I'd just dispose of it. Do you want it?" James asked surprised.
"I have people who might learn something from it. I'll have it couriered to Japan, to the folks who make our bots. It's worth a shot."
Jeff made an inviting gesture for James to sit if he wished. He looked around like he wasn't sure. There was a light crowd of about forty people, and none looking now that the drama was over, so he sat down reluctantly.
"I was determined not to risk being associated with you," James revealed. "But walking in and yelling at you in a public place sort of ruined that."
"You mean because I'm a bloodthirsty monster?" Jeff asked.
James looked very uncomfortable. "That's pretty much how you are labeled in the North American press, and the Europeans aren't far behind. I might like to go back to North America some day, at least as a possibility. One video of us together could ruin that."
"I can understand that," Jeff said, graciously. "I won't say nobody will take pix on their spex here. It isn't likely, but you do get stringers for the gossip boards. If you'd feel more comfortable out of the public eye, we were done here anyway. If you go out to the elevators we're going back to April's apartment. We'll be along in a few minutes and you can join us, rather than leave together, and we can chat a little."
"Ah, is that OK with you, April?" James asked, although he'd never been introduced.
"Certainly. I knew Jeff had read your paper and didn't fully understand it. You're welcome to come chat and we'll have some dessert and coffee there if you want also."
"I'll meet you at the elevators then, thanks."
"I'll see if they still have a whole pie they can spare," April volunteered. "You know, if anybody took video they likely did it back when he was making a scene."
"Yeah, but please don't mention that to him. He seems settled down now," Jeff said.
"It was nice of him to ask if he could come to my apartment," April said. "Not that I mind you inviting him, but he doesn't know us. It was surprising he'd think to ask when he was rattled."
"I also assumed you'd speak up if you didn't want him over," Jeff said. "Thanks."
"Oh, don't worry. I wouldn't be shy to speak up if I didn't. I'd suggest your office instead."
"And wouldn't that give him an eyeful? I'd have to put everything away and turn all the screens off or put them on something safe. Thanks," he repeated.
James got on the elevator with them, but still didn't speak, probably because there were three other people riding along with them. He stayed quiet when they got off at April's corridor and nobody was in sight. April was starting to wonder if he was having second thoughts. But he entered with them, still silent, rather than turn back at the last moment.
What April didn't expect was his reaction inside. James was clearly astonished, his mouth actually falling open in surprise.
"This is when most Earthies tell me they have a bigger garage back home than my entire apartment," April said, trying for a little tension breaking humor.
"Oh no. We looked into getting space for doing some fabrication ourselves and dropped the idea. Cheaper to have an established shop do it all than try to buy space at the prices today. I was astonished how large it is rather than the opposite," James assured her. "And this is definitely bigger than a standard two car garage. I've seen a couple residences on Home already. They made a Tokyo efficiency look spacious."
James turned, taking everything in carefully. He stood stiffly, still looking uncomfortable to be there. April was actually afraid he'd change his mind and leave if she invited him to sit and make himself comfortable. His stare returned to the large Lindsey Pennington drawing. He frowned, looking at it intently, then went closer to check the signature.
"I know this artist," he said, pointing at it although it was the only art on that wall. "I don't own any of her prints, they're a bit dear for me, but I've seen them online. I don't think I've ever seen this one. In fact, I didn't know she had any work this large."
"Yes, she's still more comfortable with smaller works," April agreed, "but I commissioned that piece, it's an original drawing not a print, so you won't be seeing any copies of it. She made it at my request after we were both at the event it pictures. I think she did just fine in the larger format. She's done a few more as large since, but I can understand why she avoids it. Just the fact it takes so much longer to finish. I doubt the larger ones pay her as well for the time put in them as her smaller work."
You could practica
lly hear the wheels turning in James head as he came to an understanding. He knew, as an intellectual exercise, that April must be emancipated, and wealthy. The huge cubic, well furnished, established that. He knew it, but she looked like a little kid, and it was hard to feel she was adult. All his experience spoke against it. He felt like her parents should show up any minute and demand to know who she'd let in. Somehow the personal nature of the drawing, the fact they shared admiration for the artist, drove a wedge in his thinking where the larger things like the apartment didn't reach him on an emotional level.
April and Jeff said nothing, aware James was resolving some sort of conflict from his strained expression. They thought it was his concerns about business security and politics though, unaware he simply couldn't bridge the cultural gap their age presented. He in turn regarded them. They were patiently waiting on him to reveal his thoughts. They were unnaturally poised and patient for their age. Well, April at least. He didn't have as much trouble with Jeff because he just looked more adult. He suddenly realized part of his problem was they were obviously a couple, and she looked far too young for that by Earth standards, especially the increasingly puritanical North American values and laws. He'd had similar problems with different attitudes when he moved from North America to Brazil with its different culture. Still did on occasion, truth be told.
James was far from stupid. Once he understood the source of all his anxieties he could deal with them. The external transformation was surprising. James visibly relaxed, standing differently, and even smiled a little. "Why don't we discuss my paper? I must warn you. I won't talk about my business project and practical applications. But we can discuss the theory within the framework of the paper."
Jeff was surprised. He'd decided James was going to politely refuse to have any discussion, make polite amends for falsely accusing him away from the public eye and leave quickly. He'd looked like he'd refuse to even sit when they first arrived, and now that hard attitude was gone.
"I'd like that. Why don't you come sit with me on the other sofa, facing the screen. If we need to view the math we can put it up there," Jeff suggested.
"I'll make some coffee," April volunteered. She wanted to get out of the way before she said something stupid to ruin this sudden shift. She'd take her time about it too.
When April returned with a carafe and mugs they were deep in conversation and didn't even acknowledge her setting the tray before them. She said nothing and went back for pie. Returning with the pie broke their reverie enough they stopped. A lifted eyebrow from Jeff got a short nod from James and Jeff poured. That was good, that sort of casual communication told April they were getting on just fine.
James took a sip and was surprised. "Wow, does that take me back. That's what my mother's coffee tasted like twenty years ago."
"I'd have thought with Brazil being a coffee producing country you'd have been enjoying quite good coffee living there," Jeff said.
"Not for any reasonable amount of Reais," James explained. "That was true even before the flu. If they can sell the good stuff for hard currency we never see it now. In fact the growers are recovering like everyone else after the flu. They want Australian dollars or Russian Rubles now. Before, they were actually importing low quality coffee for the domestic market, now it's just plain hard to get any. What is this?"
"It's half and half, Indonesian and Ethiopian," April told him. "You're company so I mixed the good Ethiopian stuff in. It's still hard for us to get so we blend it to stretch it."
"You have foreign exchange to use for luxuries?" James asked. "I had to buy Australian dollars at a horrible rate to come up here. Nobody wanted to deal with me in Reais or North American dollars."
"We are fortunate to be doing enough trade to pay for many items like coffee in kind. We have pharmaceuticals and electronics. Our landing platform in the Pacific means a lot of our business goes through Australia so our exchange is heavily weighed to Australian dollars. Rubles, not so much. I had to do business with Russian banks when the Europeans and Americans cut us out of their settlements system. It isn't something I'd care to do all the time."
James laughed, the first honest laugh they'd heard out of the man. "Did you wash your hands after?"
"I was concerned about getting a hand back," Jeff admitted. "I'd certainly count my fingers. I had to resort to having others deal with them for me. People they wouldn't dare cross."
"Says the man with nuclear weapons, who doesn't seem afraid to use them. Who could they possibly be more afraid of crossing than you?" James asked.
"They're not exactly nuclear weapons in the sense most people think," Jeff protested. "The big ones are fusion weapons, but without a fission kernel to initiate them. It makes a great deal of difference that they leave no fallout or residual radiation. They're pretty useless for anything subtle. Do you bomb an entire city because a couple bankers in it cheated you? No, I had their Mafia run my deal for me. They are already there, and if you do them dirty the response is just as devastating, but much more selectively targeted."
"Just when I start to relax and feel like you guys are just normal people you say something bizarre again. Nobody just admits to working with the Mafia."
"Well, if the Earthie banks hadn't cut us off for no reason we wouldn't have needed to do so. I don't like some of the things they do, but you could say the same of the Earthie governments, and we still do business with them too. If you look at it from our vantage the Mafia at least delivered on what they promised and the North Americans and Europeans cut us off for little more than simple spite. So who are the bigger crooks?" Jeff asked. "There wasn't anybody nice with whom to do business."
"Saying that would put your butt in prison now in North America!" James said.
"And that's why you won't see me anywhere near North America," Jeff assured him.
"His idea of near and mine aren't even close to each other," April said, upset. "I don't want him to go inside L1. Just a few weeks ago they tried to shoot his butt off, clear out in the Pacific, far away from being any possible threat to North America. You just never know when they are going to try to take a pot-shot at you."
"I believe I heard about that," James admitted, looking uncomfortable.
"Yes, but I'm sure the Earthie news fed you a crock of crap about it," April said.
"Feel free to tell me the straight stuff from your perspective," James invited. He picked up his pie to finish, and sat back against the cushions fully, to show he was listening.
"It's not complicated. The factions running North America right now repudiated our old treaty, but they haven't been aggressively initiating hostilities, even though they claim we're still at war. But as soon as Jeff is aboard a shuttle landing at our ship in the Pacific all of a sudden we're belligerents. They shot at him on approach and I called up and objected. I plainly told them if they didn't stop I'd stop them. They shot a second time. I just did what I promised before the idiots at Vandenberg fired a third time."
"I'm not comfortable with you having that much power at your disposal," James admitted. "With any individual having that much power."
"But you are OK with them having the power to blow Jeff out of the sky on a whim? Why? Because they are nameless and faceless, but real honest to God authorities? An individual still decides to use their weapons, the process merely hides who it is from you. I can assure you that you will never be in as much danger from me as them. You have to really work hard to provoke me to violence," April said.
"I don't have a good answer to that," James admitted.
"It's probably a radical new thought. I'll give you some time to think on it," April allowed.
"I know this is apple," James said, desperate to change the subject, "but it's unlike any apple pie I've ever had before."
"It's what the Amish call schnitz pie, made from dried apples. It's only been recently we got a few fresh apple pies. The first time I tried regular apple pie I thought of it as apple pie lite. The drying concentrates the flavor. We
simply couldn't afford to lift food that wasn't dehydrated. But now all the old hands are accustomed to this sort and prefer it. Would you like another piece? I bought the whole pie."
"No thank you. It's good but very rich. Another cup of coffee would be very nice though if you have any left."
"There's maybe a mug," April said, gathering the pie dishes up. "But I'd like more too, so I'll start another pot."
James didn't object out of false politeness. April liked that about him.
When she returned they had some math up on the screen and were in a deep discussion. April sat beside James on the other side from Jeff and slid the refreshed coffee tray over in front of James. She occasionally heard a bit that made sense, but most of it was outside her expertise.
"I think I'm following your reasoning," Jeff said, "but why isn't there any factor in the equations for gravity? It seems necessary."
"It is necessary," James agreed, "but it's a constant. The velocity and charge are variables. I just left out the constant because it zeros out anyway. If it's understood why clutter up the notation with it?"
James was turned to Jeff a bit. Looking across his shoulder April saw Jeff's pupils dilate and he got that goofy look that said he was having an epiphany. She was terrified the next thing out of his mouth would be a denial that gravity was a constant.
Using some tech his mother created, Jeff had been very successfully making gravity a variable for a couple years. They had a version of it reducing perceived acceleration in their ships for some time now, and it was proprietary.
April lifted her head sharply and glared at Jeff over James shoulder. Fortunately it broke through his reverie, and he looked startled. April sternly shook her head no, and Jeff broke out of the concentration and saw the potential trap he was laying for himself.
A Sudden Departure (April Book 9) Page 7