“Louise Adnet, ma’am. I’m local but a stringer for BFM. There was a huge explosion in a wilderness area in Idaho,” she said. “It was big enough to register as a minor earthquake and broke windows over the horizon. There were reports of reentry vehicles crossing the sky. Was that yours or was that somebody else too?” She sneered a little at the end jab but Heather ignored it.
“That was us,” Heather readily admitted. “We destroyed the runways and other facilities at a secret base. It was relocated there some time ago and expanded because the Texans consolidated their hold on New Mexico and Arizona where a similar facility was located. Our initial strike wasn’t sufficient to remove it as a space asset. It turned out they had vertical launch capabilities we didn’t know about. We made sure the second time that it’s out of business for good.”
“If you knew it was there it wasn’t much of a secret, was it?” Louise asked.
“It’s an official secret,” Heather said. “That’s different than a real secret. You can hardly construct runways and hangars with all the eyes in the sky and other countries not know. It just means your own citizens and organizations have to pretend it doesn’t exist. Going back to my conversation with Mr. Howe, it doesn’t seem the action of the brightest and best. More like delusional or schizophrenic. People in other countries can even look at commercial satellite pictures of the base but USNA citizens get a blurred-out spot on the map. They don’t even try to substitute fake wilderness. How much extra effort could that be? Don’t expect me to make sense of it for you. I think it’s ridiculous for adult people to play peek-a-boo with each other, like you’d do with a toddler.” She demonstrated the kiddie game with her hands. “I suppose the crater we put there will be secret and blurred out too.”
Louise smiled a brittle little smile and had no follow-up.
“Do you others have a question too?” Heather invited.
Both of them emphatically shook their heads no. Interviewing Heather was a horror of unusable quotes and disturbing heresy that could only spell trouble for them.
“Very well, we’re done then,” Heather said. “Please do leave promptly when you have your things gathered so Dakota can lock up. The cafeteria is not far away and there is signage to find it if you want to chat and compare notes with each other.”
* * *
Jan told his guide, Xerxes, to wait in the car and not release it back to the system until he determined if he was going to eat at the hotel and if they had a room for him. He retained his small carryall, however. He wasn’t that confident of his guide yet.
They had a doorman which was a nice touch. He wondered if that was a Derf custom or if they added it from the Human hospitality industry? The fellow held the door and nodded hello at him. That was probably another Human adaptation. He seemed more greeter than security, though a ton and a half of taloned carnivore might serve as both.
There was a traditional check-in desk that would have been right at home in a 1930’s black and white flat movie, except the top was armpit high to him. It was elbow high to his lower arms for the Derf clerk busy sorting papers with his back to the entry. Jan was in no hurry standing still, looking everything over. There was no bell on the counter as he’d expect in the period Earth movie. A monitor behind the clerk announced the daily specials for the restaurant and a ten percent discount for guests.
The clerk turned and jerked all over in surprise. It was too abrupt to be faked and his fur stood out around his ears and neck in what had to be a genuine reaction.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jan apologized.
“Your pardon too,” the clerk stammered. “I’ve never met a Human I couldn’t hear as soon as they stepped inside the door. Most of them fairly stomp and even breath loud.”
“I’ve had people suggest I should wear bells,” Jan admitted. “Do you have a vacancy for at least one night? I’m not particular about amenities, just a place to sleep since I intend to be out and about exploring the city.”
“I have a single on the second floor looking west with a little balcony,” the fellow offered. “It’s ten dollars Ceres a night with a Derf sleeping pad and a Human pillow. If you will need it longer, renewing it before local noon the next day is greatly appreciated. There are the usual linens and sheets and blankets Humans expect. A full Human bed is a dollar a night.”
“The pad will be fine I’m sure. I’m going to have dinner at your restaurant and then I’ll go up and inspect the room,” Jan said. “Do I prepay?”
“Only if you wish. If you wait until checkout your tab at the restaurant and bar will be added and any service you request from the concierge. Do you need a guide service?”
“No thanks, I have a man in the car holding it. I wanted to make sure I had a room before I released it.” It amused Jan everybody seemed to have a guide readily available.
“I have a room,” he told his waiting guide. “If you want to work a little longer and have dinner with me, I’d welcome the chance to chat about local customs and things to do. If not, you can come back in the morning and we’ll start fresh on a new day.”
“I’d be happy to have dinner and talk if you are buying. The Old Hotel is a bit expensive for me. But it would certainly be a treat. I’d enjoy telling friends I’ve eaten there.”
“Let’s see if this works,” Jan said. He reached in with his Solar bankcard and swiped it by the car’s pay port. It turned green and displayed a Thank You.
“All the important elements of civilization,” Jan quipped.
Chapter 7
Lee looked in the door and wasn’t sure she had the right place. She double-checked her pad and the address was right. The office door was propped open with a large complicated hunk of metal with a big crack in it. She had no idea what the purpose of it could have been but it obviously was abused past any future use.
The lights were out and there was no service counter. A desk held three monitors all displaying something. One seemed to be the page of a catalog, another a page of Derf text, and the center a lovely Derf with a dark coat grasping the top rail of a fence while stretching, with visible claws, and smiling. Did Derf do cheesecake? Lee suspected that’s what it was. A side table held a huge espresso machine and a two-liter mug that displayed no evidence of ever being washed. Besides the desk stool, there was a huge upholstered sofa. She’d never seen one for Derf anywhere before. The door into the shop was a little bigger than normal Derf doors. It could easily pass a small ground car.
“Hello? Anybody home?” Lee called in Derf and then English.
“You have an abominable accent,” somebody called back from the shop. They had precise diction but sounded like they were speaking down a pipe or tunnel.
“I grew up speaking Derf as soon as I could talk,” Lee objected. “Do you always insult your customers?”
“Not the Derf. That was fine. I bet you learned English from an American.”
“Yes, my parents were from North America. I have no need to apologize for that. They had the good sense to leave. You have an accent to my ear. If you’re just going to yell insults from the other room I’ll go away.”
“Oh, very well. It takes a bit to wiggle out of this airframe. Hold on while I extricate myself. I don’t want to get hung up on something pointy and hurt myself, or worse, break something.”
The aircraft visible through the door was a shell with no doors or seats in the cockpit. It started shaking. Slowly two legs and then an enormous furry butt squirmed into sight with each shake of the airframe, until the mechanic could roll upright. He still barely fit in the cockpit sitting with his head bent down. He swung both legs out the doorless opening and started stripping elbow-length plastic gloves off all four arms. Lee thought about how much worse fur would be to clean of grease and oil. Long gloves and a leather apron made sense.
“I should hire a little thing like you. You’d get to the back of that tail boom without needing to be winched out. Someday I’m going to get stuck in one of these and nobody will find m
e for days.”
“You couldn’t afford me. Why don’t you have a helper anyway?” Lee asked.
“They all quit on me. The last one didn’t last a full day before I hurt his tender feelings. I just pointed out it’s bad business to kill your customers. It not only hurts repeat business but pretty soon others notice if there is a pattern of your planes augering into the ground. The bloody fool couldn’t find the right part, so he was going to use a cheap hardware store bolt and washer for a rated application between dissimilar metals in a corrosive environment.”
“Salt spray mist? A coastal environment near the beach?” Lee asked. “Or maybe around volcanic vents?” she guessed.
“Why yes. You’re not an idiot,” he said, shocked to discover that. “A plane based at a small island airport with surf upwind no matter which way the wind is blowing.”
“I’m not rated for aircraft but I can hum the tune and do a few steps for servicing planetary shuttles. You never know what kind of environment you may drop into on a strange planet. They can all find a way to kill you a long way from home.”
“Ah, the rings,” he said, looking closer and seeing her voyage rings in her ears. “My short customary name is Alonso if you’d care to use that.
“My short customary name is Lee if you like.”
He stopped peeling the last glove off and stared at her surprised. “And what is your long-form name? I’ve never known a human to claim one.”
“I’m the First daughter of the Third love son of the Four Hundred-Seventy Third First Mother of Red Tree, by the Hero of the Chain Bound Lands, Second line of the shorthaired folk, of Gordon - Lee Anderson, and Voice for the Mothers of Red Tree by their word.”
“Oh, that Lee. Crud, I really can’t afford to hire you,” Alonso said disappointed. He got up and came into the office, sitting down on the sofa hard. He made an inviting sweep of his hand to the other end but Lee took the stool as easier to mount.
“The compliment you’d consider it is still appreciated. Who is Alonso? Some pioneer of Human aviation?” Lee guessed.
“No, he was a chess Grand Master. You’d never know about him if you aren’t infected with the obsession. I rather like a few of the games he played.”
“I played with my father and never won so it discouraged me. I think you have to have some hope that you will eventually win a game to enjoy it,” Lee said.
“Darling, North America’s best played four-dimensional non-Newtonian chess across star systems, with ships for game pieces against Gordon, and got their butts whipped.” He wove his true hands in a complex tangle in the air to illustrate. “There’s no shame in losing a lesser game to him. What could possibly bring you to see me?”
“I’m told you build sports planes and can work on aircars,” Lee said.
“I’ve adapted some Earth designs to fit our needs,” Alonso admitted. “The difference in body mass makes it challenging. A nice six-seat Human plane makes a passable two-seat craft for Derf, or you can scale up smaller designs to an extent. I sometimes use a different wing profile or a local engine design. Changes that would horrify a Human regulatory agency and yank it right out of certification. We have no such thing to impede us, fortunately.
“There aren’t a lot of winged private aircraft and they are all hand-built. Nobody has set up a line to build one design. The market just doesn’t exist for it. I don’t seek aircar work much. The designs are pretty much straightforward copies of Human designs with very little change. The Derf capable models are just the freight versions.”
“Would you consider building a custom aircar chassis for me? A two Derf and two Human, or a four Human capable car, with any combo of seating. Fully pressurized and high altitude capable. Good visibility, rough field capable, and a ballistic safety parachute. I don’t have the thrust capacity of the power plants yet so this is just talking right now. I don’t even have a sketch on a napkin level of design.”
“What sort of budget, and could I build it in parallel with my other work so I still have other customers and a business when it’s done?” Alonso asked.
“No deadlines. But it has to be right. And if we have to saw it in half or start over because it isn’t right and we aren’t happy with it when it flies, we do that. Cost-plus. Whatever plus you can add and still look me in the eye after is fine. I’m not poor. I just got through building a private starship not that long ago. One hopes this won’t be quite that expensive.”
Alonso got this far away look. “If you swap two Derf from the front seats to the back seats that’s potentially a three-ton shift of mass a meter and a half to the rear. The only way you’d accommodate that and keep it stable in hover would be to have the engine pods not just pivot but shift fore and aft as much. Better to have them swing a bit more, say two full meters in case luggage or fuel movement is altering the center of gravity.
“It will be inherently unstable and fly by computer of course. It will have to have strain gauges on the engine booms and read the loading on the ground, so it knows which end to lift first and pivot the engine configuration each time before it throttles up to full power.” He stuck an arm out each way hand around an imaginary engine pod, and pivoted them smoothly before he lifted. It was handy having four arms to demonstrate it properly.
“See, you have it half-way designed in your head already,” Lee said. “Think a low cabin edge and a huge canopy for visibility. It can be a fixed canopy if you give me a hatch behind the cabin. A door on the cabin proper would give us an airlock too.”
Alonso opened his mouth to ask what kind of an aircar needed an airlock, and then thought better of it. “I’ll do some sketches. We’ll see if we can work together.”
“May I pay a retainer?” Lee offered. “Do you want to give me your bank name and I’ll pay whatever you bill me to your accounts?”
“Maybe later if we make a contract. Give me a token out of your pocket today, or I understand the Human custom is to shake hands.”
“I’ll do both,” Lee agreed. She crossed to him, shook his true hand and left a coin in it. “I’m in the Old Hotel if you want to contact me. Thanks,” she said and left.
Alonso looked at the coin, curious. It had a space station on it. He spoke English better than he read it, but recognized twenty-five grams. It must be gold but he’d never held a gold coin before. He had no idea what it was worth in the Ceres silver dollars he knew.
* * *
The hotel seated Xerxes on a floor pad and Jan got a regular chair. That put both their heads on a comfortable level to chat. The establishment seemed to have everything under control and well thought out. They had no trouble with plates and utensils appropriate to each of them. Indeed, his seemed to be actual silver, and the china and stemware could have been from Earth if he hadn’t known what that would cost.
He wasn’t the only Human in the room and nobody had taken any note of it when he entered. The menus were on paper held in a heavy card stock folder. That was rather quaint. Most developed nations on Earth had outlawed that sort of menu along with a lot of other potential disease vectors. They weren’t even plastic coated to make sanitizing them cheap and easy. A code square in the bottom corner invited you to scan for other languages if you weren’t able to use Derf or English.
“My menu doesn’t have any prices,” Xerxes said confused.
“I’m a guest of the hotel so I believe they are assuming you are my guest,” Jan said. “It’s rather old-fashioned. Don’t concern yourself with it. Just order what you like.”
What he liked turned out to be two petite hams. Jan would have called them picnic hams. A glazed sweet potatoes casserole covered with a local nut, a whole grilled pineapple, and a sweet wine over ice. Jan wondered if other Derf favored everything being so sweet?
Jan got a stacked pastrami and corned beef sandwich on a crusty roll, with Swiss cheese and what they described as deli dressing. The waiter only seemed surprised and a bit flustered when he asked for bottled water. Apparently, that wasn’t a big it
em locally. He wasn’t sure if the local water supply was sanitary for Humans and didn’t want to insult them by asking. He got coffee instead. That should be hot enough to be safe. The hot and crunchy platter got him a warning from the waiter that Humans often found it too spicy. He promised he’d eat around anything he found too hot. They brought it immediately as an appetizer and it was wonderful. A big scoop of kimchi was surrounded by sour cucumber pickle chunks, something similar to a radish, cherry tomatoes, and a ring of red, yellow, and black peppers. A loaf of something he’d call pumpernickel and a block of butter appeared unasked and sat on his side of the table.
“What do you do when you aren’t playing the guide with foreigners?” Jan asked when he had made a first-round sampling of his appetizer.
Xerxes blinked rapidly betraying surprise when Jan nibbled a black pepper.
“I’m a college student. I have very flexible classes except for some that require on-site instruction. I’m still living at home with family but I need to support myself and pay tuition, so I go to one of the day job services whenever I can. This is nice today because my uncle found you for me. I don’t have to pay a fee for the job service,” Xerxes said.
“What are you studying?” Jan wondered.
“Forestry management. Last season I went with a group and learned how to top a tree off, drop it without damaging the trunk or killing anyone, and how to move it to the sawmill or move a portable mill to it.”
“That sounds more like a lumberjack than a manager to me,” Jan remarked.
“How could I possibly manage workers if I have no idea what their job entails? I’d never have their respect, and would probably tell them to do something stupid.”
“That sounds entirely reasonable to me,” Jan agreed.
“I’m very likely going to work for a startup company that intends to make plywood. Humans here complain endlessly that they don’t have plywood to use for all sorts of things and go on about how handy it is.”
Another Word for Magic Page 12