April 3: The Middle of Nowhere (22 page)

* * *

"I thought you should know," Eddie told Jan. "My people have stood down and the situation is defused. Excuse me for asking, but did you just resolve our problem by toppling the Chinese government?" He seemed to be having a problem with that.

"Heavens no! My supervisors would be terribly upset with me if I did any such thing, without orders from them of course. The Chinese government is still in business, unchanged in form and function. They are no more 'toppled' than a company which fires a CEO and appoints a new one. They are cranking out the same old product with the same work crew. To really change the nature of anything so huge would require more than an IO making a few com calls and planting rumors," he assured Eddie.

"Oh, well, that's good then I suppose, but whatever you did, thank you."

"You're welcome. I won't be shy if I need a favor someday," he warned.

"Networking," Eddie agreed, nodding. "It's the only thing keeping the whole bloody system from breaking down."

* * *

Lin sat in a bosun's chair, rubber soles braced against the hull to keep him from swaying on the line and smoothly painted flowing gold letters across the stern. It was beautiful work, as fine as you'd expect in any boat-yard. He'd shade and outline them too in a bit. Papa-san leaned over the transom on his elbows watching, not nitpicking but simply companionable. Lin was very rarely critical of his liege lord and friend, but he had to ask, "Isn't
The Sly Spy
a little in your face blatant even for you?"

"Anybody who actually stands where he can read that will already have tracked us down and be confident about our identity. Forgive an old man his sense of humor," he asked.

The small fishing village behind them was backed by the Brazilian jungle and there was no highway into the interior except the river that emptied just south of the town. There was no real deep water harbor, but a sheltering headland that kept the worst storms from eroding their beach. There was cold beer and a decent clinic and a few satellite dishes among the solar panels on the roofs. It wasn't a bad place to live or visit and everyone minded their own business if you paid cash money or gold Sovereigns. There had been no customs or immigration boat appear when they set anchors. Papa-san's Portuguese was not perfect and tended to the European variant, but he wasn't trying to pass for a native anyway.

"The old boat builder who services the local fishing boats and trades in outboards says he can order us a dinghy. It costs a bit more to get it from him than buying it at a bigger port, but with greater privacy. It will be a week and a couple days before the usual supply boat comes in however. What should I tell him?" Lin asked.

"Are you buying an exact replacement? I'd worry somebody might run down all the sales of that model if they suspect we dumped the old one as a subterfuge," Papa-san worried.

"I was going to upgrade a bit actually. They have a new model that is a meter longer, rated to carry six instead of four. It can mount a bit bigger engine and has a decent storm canopy you can erect. The outboard doesn't have to be removed. They have a slick way of tilting it inside and lashing it down. It still fits the deck space, barely."

"Yeah, I see no problem hanging around that long. Go ahead and order it, get the biggest engine it will mount and a much smaller one for cruising slow and saving fuel and hours on the big one. If he wants a deposit that's fine, I'd be surprised if he has that much cash to buy it out of pocket. I'd bet that's about six months worth of business for him. You might as well mount the radar reflector again too," Papa-san decided, looking over his shoulder at the bare mount on the mast. "I think its absence might attract attention now."

* * *

The day after the Chinese coup everybody who had sat through the crisis with Jeff was in recovery mode, exhausted more mentally than physically. The Chinese were pretending nothing had happened officially, which Jeff could not understand. Every nation with a spy satellite could see a huge new crater in the Gobi. Anybody who owned a seismograph had a very distinctive spike on their record that said weapon, not earthquake. Jon assured Jeff their cultural concept of 'face' would preclude them ever openly discussing anything with Jeff and he should drop any silly expectation of such a thing happening.

North America censored any mention of it on public news feeds, as did much of Europe. When April scanned the news services it was all about the World Series of baseball, a court case over whether a parrot could be a service animal and a fishing boat capsized in Lake Michigan that observers swore was dragged down into the waters by something big with tentacles. Europeans who knew appeared to just not care all that much about the matter. The only strong reaction seemed to be in those small countries who were under China's influence and traded heavily with them. April suggested Jeff count his blessings that he was dealing with a clammed up sullen giant, wishing to de-escalate, instead of a screaming vindictive one. She had a point, he admitted. Eddie looked pleased when they heaped praise on him, but stayed very mysterious about the actual details of what he'd done. April added a few new terms for her net bots to search, but resisted the urge to obsessively check the news about China every ten minutes.

By supper time April and Gunny were ready to sit in the cafeteria and interact with people again. They had been content with a simple breakfast in and grabbed a lunch they took back home. April was sort of studying and Gunny disappeared into his room and napped most of the afternoon. When he came out it didn't take him long to get antsy, sitting tapping one foot and then the other. He practically jumped to his feet when April suggested supper.

The corridor seemed busy. There were people April didn't know. She didn't know everybody in home by name, but most of them she knew by sight, though at the rate Home was growing there was no way she was going to keep up now. These new folks looked to be Earthies and when she mentioned that it put Gunny on alert, worried for her.

There was a couple, young by Earth standards but still visibly lacking Life Extension Therapy, walking slow and looking at each store and office. The man was wearing a jacket and a shirt with buttons and a leather belt. The woman was wearing slacks and a blouse, but a fuzzy cardigan sweater with buttons and open pockets.

She was consulting a phone of some sort obviously trying to find their way. The Mitsubishi site for M3 was entertaining for space nuts, but pretty useless as a street guide. April took pity on them and asked if she could direct them anywhere? From the look on Gunny's face he wasn't thrilled with her charity, but didn't say anything. He stood back against the wall where he could look both ways down the corridor.

"I am James," the man hesitated thoughtfully, "Alphonse and this is my wife Elena. We just came in on the shuttle from New Las Vegas. This is all rather confusing to us. We are used to having security traveling ahead for us who become familiar with the area and arrange our accommodations ahead and check us in. We were assured security was much less of a problem on a habitat, so our family was content to allow us to come alone rather than pay for an escort to accompany us."

"You're probably looking at the official site," April guessed. "That flat map is fine for space nuts, but to get around you really need some spex. The local net will build a 3D color coded model around you in your spex oriented to where you are and which direction you are facing."

"I've never worn data glasses," Elena said, visibly embarrassed. "James has used them for military training. We can get him a pair," she proposed. "Is there somewhere near to buy them? A place to get some lunch would be welcome too."

"Our clock is off yours a little. We were just going to get some supper. There are basically two places to eat on M3. The one nearby is quieter. The other caters to the young workers and has a bar and music and lighter food. Would you like to walk with us and we'll show you the way?" April offered.

"If your, uh, companion has no objection," James agreed, examining Gunny dubiously.

"Ah, Gunny probably seems unfriendly to you," April realized. "He's my hired man, in work mode guarding
me
," April explained. That made both of them visibly relax. They didn't have their security with them, but they immediately understood the relationship.

"What did you think he was?" April teased, leading them down the corridor, "a chaperone?"

That drew an honest laugh from both of them. "We are not unfamiliar with chaperones, but our
dueñas
tended to be hatchet faced old ladies in a shawl, obsessively working a rosary," Elena said. That necessitated explaining what exactly a rosary was and how one was used.

The cafeteria was much like any Earth cafeteria, it was a pretty mature business model after all. But the couple had the little hesitations and hyper-alertness that said it was an unusual experience for them. When it came time to pay James produced a credit card, but he had to have the optical port pointed out to him and he swiped it awkwardly instead of the automatic flick of the wrist used by people who did it multiple times a day and no longer thought about it.

"Might I ask your name?" James said very formally once they were seated.

"Just call me April," she offered. "I'm April Lewis, but I'd rather be informal." She took her spex off and rubbed the bridge and the ear pieces with a sani-wipe and a napkin. "I have these set to show you where you are," she said offering them to Elena. "You see the symbols on the left side high. The bars will increase the more layers you are seeing. The little checkerboard will color code the cubic according to use. Double-blinking on it quickly will bring up the color chart. The little pyramid on its side will change your perspective from oriented on you to off on the same plane or switch ninety degrees away if you blink right at the point and drag it. If you lose track of where you are look at the little arrow going in a circle and a double blink will take you back to default."

"That's really quite easy to use," Elena said, surprised. James was eating but paying close attention to their exchange.

"Well, sure. That's the whole point of spex to make it easier, not harder."

"What do the other things do?"

"The hash mark is M3 net. You are on that now, that's why it is shaded. The double hash will open up Earth nets to you, if you want to search information sites or shop or make travel reservations or look at commercial news agencies. The same as if you were sitting at a computer at home. The phone icon is not just a phone. You can do text or mail off the pull down menu."

"What are the three ovals overlapping?"

"That you have to log on, I logged out to show you the spex. That's the militia net. You can communicate with other members of the Home militia; see where the active online members are real-time. It deploys and commands orbital weapons and you can ask armed ships for support."

"Amazing," Elena declared, taking them off gingerly like they might explode.

"Don't worry, I use really good passwords and those command programs require biometric identification too. You can't sneeze while ordering new shoes and accidentally bomb Chicago." That got a smile that was definitely brittle.

"Maybe that was insensitive humor," April allowed. "If you are USNA I didn't mean to be flip and offensive."

"No, we are Spanish," James assured her, patting the emblem embroidered on the pocket of his blazer. "We recognized Home fairly early last year. We're just not used to confronting  the nasty side of politics so directly".

"You patted that fancy logo like it should explain it to me. It's pretty, but I don't know what it means. You'd have to explain it to me."

James smile was definitely wry. "I'm further from home than I've grasped mentally. This is the Coat of Arms of the Spanish Crown. It's on our flag also, but I imagine you aren't familiar with Earth flags either."

"No, we don't have much occasion to see them. We haven't had anyone open an embassy and we don't even display our own new emblems much. I really should have them painted on our vessels," April realized suddenly. "We have their names and some nose art. I just didn't think of it until now. I remember seeing the French had their flag painted on
L'Arc de Ciel.
"

"It is traditional," James agreed.

"But I wouldn't think to embroider our ovals on my jacket," April added.

"Ah, but we are of the King's family, so it is our special privilege."

"Does that mean you are royalty?" April asked puzzled.

"Heavens no! We are nowhere near the succession, thank goodness. The Royal Family and the extended family of the King are very different things. We are not even addressed specially back home, which burden the King bestows on some of the close family. You might term us minor nobility I suppose, but it doesn't mean much to have empty titles that don't attach to any land. Being the Duke of something that hasn't been on a map for centuries is meager in benefits. There are all sorts of cousins and distant relations that have duties in government agencies, or run charities for the King. But we are spared for the most part silliness like cutting ribbons for bridges and smashing champagne on ships."

"That's interesting. I have yet to study coats of arms; that sort of stuff is called heraldry, isn't it?" April asked.

"Yes and people get obsessive about it, arguing who is entitled to display what and exactly where a line should be drawn or what angle a chevron should assume. Not to mention there are different systems for just about every European country and similar things elsewhere."

April nodded. "Our habitat is owned by Mitsubishi and you will see their mon of three water chestnuts. It looks like three coral red diamonds. Have you seen it?"

"Indeed, I've seen it in my rear-view mirror on the front of heavy trucks," James agreed.

"I have some mons on a pair of swords I own. My grandfather told me it was unusual because most of the swords the Japanese surrendered after WWII had the family crests made unreadable."

"We don't usually think of people having hobbies and interest in things like antiques on space stations. I suppose I thought everything was ultra-modern and functional," he admitted.