Another Word for Magic

by Mackey Chandler

  Gunny centered that subject in his vision and asked for a reading.

  “This man is strongly afraid at a level that would drive many to flee or to action,” the program said.

  “Anticipating an act of his own?” Gunny asked.

  “Insufficient data. May I examine the video and audio backlog since you entered the room?”

  “Yes,” Gunny agreed.

  “Processing,” the software said.

  After a few seconds, it said. “Utilizing external databases and processing.” That was unusual for the onboard program in his spex to need help. It took a full thirty seconds to report.

  “The man atypically spiked emotionally when he saw you. Pupil dilation and heart rate elevated. His partner became upset when he saw his companion was upset. That continued and increased each time he looked at his partner until he plateaued. Both have now passed their peak organic reaction and settled down significantly.”

  “Give me a reading on this man,” Gunny instructed, looking at Porter.

  The machines took a long time again and asked for access to the house safety sensors. Fortunately, Heather had given him unlimited privileges to that system. He wouldn’t have interrupted her, not even silently.

  “With moderate probability, this man is displaying physiological signs of grieving. He is depressed. Checking the house data against your earlier query confirms all previous conclusions.”

  Gunny closed the program with his spex. He’d missed a few words but the conversation was still on theme. Porter’s security was running similar software on Gunny and didn’t like what they were seeing at all. His lack of concern wasn’t just a façade.

  “I’m not saying we regard you favorably,” Porter was explaining. “We are privately willing to assure you we will take no further aggressive action in exchange for some moderation. It’s politically impossible to change direction radically because public opinion has been formed against you for too long. We don’t have any real opposition party yet. The public is somewhat accepting of those placed in power by the military. When the previous government was… removed, the military had much higher trust ratings than the civilian government. They had the good sense to retain a semblance of the previous government by not showing someone in a uniform in charge to the public. If we appear too friendly to Spacers, it is our opinion the public will vote overwhelmingly for anyone else in new elections.”

  “So overwhelming you couldn’t fake the vote to appear otherwise?” Heather asked.

  “I know you think ill of us but that isn’t something the current administration wants to do,” Porter said.

  “That’s what happened to Wiggen,” Heather reminded him. “She failed to act against us and saw the reality that you are on the wrong end of the gravity gradient to fight a serious war.”

  “That is before my time,” Porter said. “I studied that in college. There was considerable disagreement about what really happened. Many of the official records were destroyed. Let me ask. Was Wiggen secretly an agent of Home while still in office?”

  “You see?” Dakota asked Heather.

  “Indeed, I do,” Heather had to admit.

  “I’m not following you,” Porter admitted.

  “My Secretary is alluding to a previous conversation in which she warned the seminal events such as Wiggen’s overthrow are dead history to the current leaderships such as you. They may as well have happened to the Romans to have any emotional impact on your decision making. Yet Wiggen is fresh in my memory. Not only from the events when she fled to Home but I saw her just a few months ago having dinner in a club while I was there with my partners. She never worked for anyone but North America. Not that it was appreciated. If anybody wanted to know what happened you have a living witness to the times and events. But no historian has ever shown up to interview her to my knowledge. Of course, she was one of the thousands North America tried to kill by destroying Home. Perhaps removing those witnesses to an ugly past would be a bonus to that operation if not a primary objective.”

  “You hate us,” Porter said. “Even though we are not the previous government.”

  “Indeed, I loathe you,” Heather admitted. “Those feelings have taken as long to form as your public’s opinion of us and will be as hard to reverse. You admit you are captive to the fruits of that government’s campaign of propaganda and can’t deviate too far from it. You have yet to demonstrate you are different in any way that matters to us. Yet I’m willing to negotiate in a very limited manner with you. We have always regarded your population as held hostage to your policies and lies.

  “If it weren’t for those common people under your control, we’d have wiped North America’s government off the map years ago. It’s just a problem of how to do one and not the other. Somebody, not us in case you wondered, did a very thorough decapitation of your previous government and what did it gain them? Nothing that I can see. You’d have to do it over and over before you could make a dent in the queue waiting to assume power. That’s why I suspect it was a coup for internal power, not another country.

  “We should have fought you and paid the butcher’s bill in the past rather than allow you access to the stars. It never seems to get cheaper to put that off by appeasing you. I won’t make that mistake again today. We are beyond your reach in the stars and I’m going to make sure it stays that way.”

  “Then let me appeal to you to moderate some of your sanctions for the sake of those common people,” Porter said. “It’s impossible to provide a modern life for our citizens without international air travel. We can’t have normal commerce with the rest of the globe without that.”

  “I’d argue that. You’ve shut down air traffic on your own on four occasions in my lifetime for war or plague and you still exist. Most things can move by ship, rail, or truck. If you can’t buy fresh flowers and fruit from South America in the winter you could live with that hardship. We manage without a lot of cheap luxuries from Earth.

  “Your air transport system is a convenience and a backup to military transport so you can call upon it at need. If we allow you to restore all these airports you will develop and conceal orbital capable assets until it would take a huge campaign again to end it. No, you are out of the space business. I’m not interested in helping you project power again up here or on the Slum Ball.”

  Porter got an uncontrolled tic after Heather used that expression.

  “A limited number then,” Porter suggested, “few enough not to be a threat or difficult to remove if misused.”

  “That could work,” Heather agreed. “One on each coast with runways to handle large planes. Seattle and New York or similar, but open to foreign airlines and each other. You name them and I’ll inform my people to spare them.”

  “Similarly, no modern nation can live without satellite services,” Porter said. “The present satellites need constant replenishment or supply. You are aware of all they do I believe.”

  Gunny helped himself to some of the sandwiches everyone else was ignoring. He seemed relaxed and unconcerned but his slightest movement alarmed Porter’s guards enough to register on his software.

  “We tried to avoid damaging civilian satellites,” Heather said. “The majority of nations are still not capable of building and launching their own satellites. They purchase those services. You can do the same.”

  Porter nodded, thinking furiously, but unable to form an argument that didn’t amount to national pride.

  “As you pointed out, the air transport system is integral to the military. The ability to monitor, and do command and control from orbit is also. We won’t be able to defend ourselves as you would leave us.”

  “I believe you provided launch service for other nations' military satellites,” Heather said. “It’s time for them to return the favor. I know that doesn’t put you in the driver’s seat. Too bad, you’ll just have to be an actual ally and deal with them more as equals. Who exactly can threaten you? China is a mess and India has no designs on you. Europe and
Latin America are too divided to pose a threat. If they held a summit to ally against you, they’d get stalled deciding where everyone would sit or what to have for lunch. If I thought it was a serious issue, I’d offer protection for us endangering you, but I think it’s a moot point.”

  “I think the obvious answer to that is Texas,” Porter said.

  “Ah, Texas. The problem there is that wouldn’t bother us at all. To us, Texas is pretty much a breakaway faction of North America with better manners. I have yet to catch them at any intelligence operation against us and they haven’t imposed any restraints on trade between us. Unless my sources are wrong a considerable portion of your economy is dependent on the black-market trade with Texas.

  “For some reason, they haven’t approached me to seek support to undermine you. Their culture is more yours than Mexican and yet the old border is ignored, wide open, and thriving on both sides after being invited to send senators to Austin. Even the provinces from Coatzacoalcos east are effectively self-governing without any attempts at forcing them into joining the rest in sending representatives to Texas. You should do half as well with Quebec. They even use the same money and honor each other’s licensing. If you can’t form some compromise with people who are so easy going then I can’t see them supplanting you as a tragedy.”

  “Slowly normalizing relations with Texas and occupied Mexico is a goal of my administration,” Porter said.

  Heather laughed. “Yes, it wouldn’t do to move too quickly. Send somebody undercover and poll the people in the street or go in a café down there and ask them if they feel occupied.”

  “They did take the eastern territory by force of arms,” Porter reminded her.

  “Oh, totally true,” Heather said. “I do have to admire how they did it without destroying everything as they went or displacing the population. Almost as easy as inviting the Mexican states to send senators to Austin. It makes me wonder why they haven’t invited your states to do the same.”

  “Oh my God, they have,” Dakota said.

  “Are you running software on him?” Heather asked.

  “I don’t have to,” Dakota said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I could practically hear his teeth grinding and his muscle looked at each other. My wetware picked that broadcast up without computer support.”

  “Well, that’s interesting but not politic to say. You have to understand, Mr. Secretary. We don’t look it but we are all past the century mark. You do become more perceptive in reading people, but we also seem to display some of the same qualities of naturally older people such as speaking our mind much more freely.”

  “Thanks for the reminder. I had some experience of that with my mother.”

  “Was there anything else then?” Heather wondered.

  “About the starships in distant systems surviving your war on them…”

  Heather cut Porter off with a chop of her hand and anger flared on her face.

  “They better reflag or better yet never come home. I’m aware you sent a flurry of communications by ship and drone after your attack on our allies failed. We have no idea what your instructions were, but if a USNA military vessel shows up in the Solar System it will surrender or be destroyed. If you need to alter their orders with that in mind you would be well advised to do so. You will get no kind of armistice nor any treaty from me. I’ve had my fill of false treaties. You’d just use it to regroup to hit us again. You perpetuated this state of hostilities. Now you can damn well live with it.”

  Porter just nodded. She was in such a temper nothing was safe to say.

  “I think that minor humanitarian allowance is as much as we can agree on right now,” Heather said. “It’s more than I expected. We don’t have any requests. If after a few years the situation changes we may have more to discuss. I noticed for example you made no offer to drop trade restrictions or to moderate much less reverse the lies your media still put forth about Spacers and Life Extension. Most of those things you could and should have corrected unilaterally. We’ve grown to be independent of necessity so there is no need to beg trade of you. Think about that.”

  “Might I have a document for me to show my President?” Porter asked.

  “Dakota, print off a statement that we will not interfere with one international airport on each coast of North America, open to foreign airlines but not orbital service. I’ll stamp a copy for us and a copy for Secretary Porter to take home. Do you have anyone headed for the surface to return them to Armstrong?”

  “Allow me to do that,” Gunny requested. “I’d like to see them to the lock and make sure they don’t get into any mischief along the way.”

  “Very well. Check the bus schedule, if there isn’t one leaving soon, call them a private car and tell them to charge it to the sovereign’s accounts,” Heather said.

  “Thank you,” Porter said.

  Heather had an after-thought.

  “Be aware, this concession for two ports of entry only applies if you stop trying to circumvent our blockade elsewhere. If you keep trying to repair or construct launch facilities elsewhere the deal for two airports on the coasts is off.”

  Porter nodded his understanding.

  Dakota put two hard copies before Heather to stamp with her hanko and gave one to Porter in a folio. Pointedly, Porter wasn’t invited to sign either. It was a grant, not a contract because North America gave nothing. Gunny stood and folded two more of the sandwiches in a napkin to enjoy on the way.

  “The cart should be there by the time we go out the door,” he said and led them away.

  Chapter 13

  There was a bus departing in twenty minutes from when they arrived at the terminal. Gunny made sure they had tickets and sat in the cart until he saw them board.

  Porter and his security took a mini-lounge in the bus, built around a table rather than the individual seats. It wasn’t near a shift change so the bus was near empty.

  “Mark, would you go get us coffee, please,” Porter asked. He took out the document and looked at it again.

  Mark returned with two coffees and the Coke he preferred.

  “That fellow, Tindal, sat watching until we boarded,” the senior security, Dennis, said irritated by it. “Did he think we were going to trot off down a tunnel with no pedestrian lane?”

  “I’d say that indicates there are ways to gain access back into the city if you know them. We might have found out how to call a cart or there might be walkways in one of the other tunnels,” Porter speculated.

  “What upset you so when the Moon Queen walked in?” Mark asked Dennis. “For all that you have a poker face, your body language shouted there was danger. It scared me to see.”

  “It wasn’t her. It was the bodyguard. Have they stopped showing the video of him at the academy?”

  “I never saw him before. Why would they show us video of one lower rank Spacer like him?” Mark asked.

  “Watch it yourself,” Dennis invited and turned his pad to Mark after he found the file.

  Mark watched without comment as an imprisoned Gunny recovered from being Tased, snapped his steel handcuffs, and ripped his bunk from where it was welded to the deck. When he used the bunk frame to puncture a hole in the bulkhead and terrorize the security staff in the next compartment, he couldn’t stay silent.

  “Oh, come on. I don’t believe it. That’s computer-generated propaganda. Nobody is that strong.” He looked at Porter.

  “Believe your partner,” Porter told him. “That’s an incredibly dangerous man. That was recorded years ago in the North American interest section of the old ISSII. You can assume he has no more love of us than his Queen. If anything, assume he is more experienced and better enhanced now.”

  “Let me see that again,” Mark said.

  * * *

  Lee had the Mothers’ technicians send the drive back down to Derfhome rather than stow it in the ship again. She wanted an arm fabricated and fit to stow it in a recess like on the Chariot. It was going to take a major modificatio
n of Kurofune’s nose to fit an airlock, docking grapple, and all the changes needed for the drive.

  That would take weeks to design and much more time to install, even given the advances in fabricating. Then she’d need to fill in a lot more data points about the jump range of her drive at various power levels before using it to travel. Recruiting and provisioning couldn’t be rushed either. It was going to take months to get ready. Going back to Providence wasn’t going to happen quickly. Perhaps that was a good thing, she convinced herself. It would give the North Americans time to drop their guard if they anticipated her and Gordon showing up quickly in response to the Commission’s cut-off.

  Her original philosophy that Humans should get out there and claim as much real estate as possible still was driving her, but she was having second thoughts about sending Thor and the Little Fleet off on a second voyage. It engaged her crews to keep them from dispersing, and she was sure they’d make some new claims, but it would be nice to have her best hands to recruit from to go to Providence. You just couldn’t keep assets in personnel sitting waiting to be used like hardware. Gordon would tell her she was learning important lessons in prioritizing. The tools at hand were sufficient and would have to be used instead of what she would like.

  * * *

  After Dionysus’ Chariot docked on Beta everyone took their pressure suits off, Musical helping Born to do so in the limited space without damaging something or someone.

  “Jeff and I have people to meet,” April said. “Nothing we’re doing would be very entertaining for you. If you make sure your spex are registered on the local data net we’ll give you a heads up when we are near done and you should start back to the ship. Figure early tomorrow. Be aware rooms may be hard to get. If you must, call and we’ll let you back on the ship.”

  Rooms weren’t hard to get at all. The hotel, a Marriot gone independent, looked OK if you ignored the fact the new name, Merit, didn’t cover the faint outline of the old lettering above the entry. The manager was delighted to see them. Five hundred dollars Ceres for a room made Born and Musical look at each other silently. Born was the first to shake his head no.