April 8: It's Always Something (12 page)

"I've never needed to use that in a suit," Kurt admitted.

"Try not to get blood on you," the older cop advised his partner who'd grabbed more napkins.

"Shouldn't you take
him
to medical first?" Kurt asked, nodding at Greg. He'd still been displaying some tremors when they first arrived, but he was still now and the pool of dark blood around his neck was much larger.

"You
should
...uh, confirm," the younger cop advised the older somewhat cryptically, in an odd turnaround of authority.

"Yeah, cover my butt," he agreed, and took his full kit pad from his belt and scanned Greg. "Nope, this gentleman isn't going anywhere but the cooler until somebody decides what to do with him," he assured Kurt. "He's dead and
way
past where I'd want anybody to try to resuscitate me if I was him. He'd end up a vegetable at best, and have to be turned off again, which is always ugly."

"Oh... I didn't
mean
to kill him," Kurt said in a small voice.

"Well I would sure as hell hate to see what you would do if you
meant
to," the elder cop said. "We will have to get our Lady to decide what to do with you. I'm pretty sure she'll take time to hold a special court today, she's done so for much less. I'd give some thought to how you'll answer her questions," he suggested. "She'll use veracity software and know the truth out of you. But the truth can be
said
a lot of different ways."

"He threatened my family," Kurt volunteered.

"Did he hurt your hand?" the younger cop asked.

"No I was stupid and did that myself," Kurt admitted.

"OK, not any concern of ours," the older cop decided, looking at the stub of fork handle folded over the dead man's cheek bone. "The Sovereign will sort it out." He was happy with that actually.

The clinic apparently had a tech free when they called in, and he was on the cart when it came. A bio-hazard cleanup team wasn't far behind. Kurt was so docile the older cop decided to let his partner take Kurt in alone. It was good to make small gestures like that to show his confidence in him.

"I'm getting all sorts of crazy reports and contradictory bulletins," Chen said. "Some of the local stations are saying the Sons of Liberty are assuming national power and some are claiming the same for God's Warriors. Some, especially the net systems, are honestly admitting they have no idea what is going on, but advising people to stay off the street because of fighting. A few local broadcast stations are just playing music. I guess they're too scared of getting on the bad side of whoever comes out on top."

"They're so busy fighting and blaming each other nobody is remembering to blame me. The Europeans are actually denouncing me more than the North Americans," Jeff said in wonder. "The Australians surprise me...The consensus there seems to be that anybody who steals a bomb to tinker with in their living room is a bloody fool.
Somebody
has some sense."

"God's Warriors detest us too," Chen reminded Jeff, "but they are objecting to the Sons provoking us unilaterally. They're supposed to have a joint government. As for Europe, they are tied to North American trade tighter than Australia now," Chen pointed out. "So it's no surprise they are talking their business interests. Oh! That reminds me, Mr. Holland the Australian journalist would be happy to speak with you privately if it still pleases you. I'll drop a sticky text file in your calendar right now with times he can be free to talk."

"They may be talking their own book. The Australians see us tied to Tonga and Japan, in their sphere of interest. And we're doing a big business with all three, not in bulk, but in value. They may see us as a hedge against the Chinese down the road too. They are in chaos now, but when China gets sorted out Australia will be back to being uncomfortable with such a giant neighbor looming over them." When Jeff looked quizzical, Chen explained. "You may not realize the depth of your reputation. It seems almost all the Earthies are afraid of angering two billion Chinese. It didn't go unnoticed you bombed the snot out of them without hesitation. I think the general opinion is you wouldn't hesitate to do it again in a heartbeat."

"Well I should hope so!" Jeff said, surprised. "That's the only way the arrogant creeps have any respect for you, if they are
sure
you're willing to rain thermonuclear devastation on them. I'd certainly rather invite them to tea and have a civilized discussion, but that doesn't seem to be part of the culture."

"And this is why we have Jon as spox," Chen said. "You don't have a subtle...or diplomatic bone in your body."

"Well, April has been working on that," Jeff admitted. "But the concepts can still seem quite strange to me," he admitted.

* * *

"You have to buy it right now if you want it," Myat told Huian.

"Myat, you have dealt with all sorts of people. Not just your clients, but I assume all sorts of business people. Do you go to market or do your servants all take care of that?" Huian asked.

"No, no, I can remember when I was little going with my mother and a servant to the market. She had the servant to carry our things to the car, but she dealt with the merchants herself. Not out in the zei picking things off of ground cloths like a peasant. The sort of custom she supported received her in a cool private room and the senior merchant offered refreshment and would have his man fetch little samples of what she wanted. Especially spices. She might ask a hundred kilo bag of rice and expect the quality to remain the same as previous purchases, but spices she wanted to see a sample from the lot she was buying. She always dressed to the hilt. One of her best outfits and enough gold to stagger a horse. When she finally took me along, after much begging, she insisted I dress well and borrowed jewelry for me, even if I was only nine years old. She said the merchants treated you better the more money you appeared to have. It’s one of my earliest memories of her trying to teach me something important. I…I’m babbling. What is the point of this?" Myat asked.

"You know how to shop and how to bargain. What do you think when somebody says you have to buy it right now, and puts the hurry-up on you?" Huian asked.

Myat laughed. "My mother would say run! Hold your purse tight and run for your life!"

"Indeed. I’ll forward this information to Jeffrey Singh. I’m sure he will present it to the group he’s organized to buy a ship. But the man is young, not stupid. And most of his partners are older and even more conservative. I can already hear what he’ll say: 'If the market has crashed so bad they have a three year old vessel for sale at near scrap prices, maybe next month they’ll have a one newer and cheaper.' And that might be right," Huian decided. "The drastic price drop makes me concerned I'm missing something here."

"I can see why the urgency is alarming. But my broker friend usually deals in vessels that need to be scrapped as older and obsolete. Yes, there may be some other modern vessels like this come on the market if shipping doesn’t recover soon. Just not necessarily through him. This ship is decent enough that someone else may buy it to reflag and put into service, instead of cut it up for scrap. As always, the official predictions say this is a seasonal lull and the economy is sound. There are always a few who are easy to convince because they believe what they want to happen. Some such optimist may grab it. You can commit as much of the funds I’ve sent you as is needful, if there’s a shortfall," Myat offered.

"You’ve mostly convinced me," Huian said. "But I will present this neutrally. I’m a bit afraid of my own enthusiasm to recommend it. We’ll see what the others without my emotional attachments say."

"That’s fair," Myat decided. "I’m attaching a file with all the ship specs and photos and a history of its very short life. Let me know what sort of feedback you get."

"Of course," Huian agreed. "I have it. Good Bye dear."

* * *

"You may go back to your regular duties...Carl," Heather said, with a little hesitation. It was bad to not be able to call your critical personnel by name, but
all
of them were critical. There were only about five hundred residents at Central now. Surely that wasn't too big a stretch for her brain.

Carl hesitated. "Would you like him cuffed again?" he offered.

Heather was amused, but he was sincerely concerned, so she didn't reprove him.

"Dakota and I are both armed. He doesn't seem to be offering any resistance," Heather pointed out. Indeed the man was still so unsteady Carl had suggested seating him rather than making him stand before her judgment. "I thank you for your concern, but we're good."

Carl, still looking dubious, gave Kurt a last hard look that seemed to be a veiled warning, and left.

The other woman, Dakota stood and formally announced court was in session this tenth day of August, 2089. Kurt supposed she must be doing it for a recording and public record since it was just the three of them present.

"You are brought before my judgment at the request of Central Security," Heather informed Kurt. She had a sudden thought..."I don't believe we've met. Are you aware I'm the Sovereign of Central?"

"I've seen you on video. I was aware...uh...I'm not sure how to address you," Kurt admitted.

"I'm unimpressed by forced titles. You may just call me Heather," she invited.

"The security guys called you their Lady," Kurt remembered.

"They are both sworn to me," Heather said. "You are not. I'd remember, believe me. Only about a quarter of our residents are personally sworn to me. Foreign residents are welcome. But of course you still live under my justice."

"I sort of figured that," Kurt admitted, "though nobody spelled it out. You're under local law wherever you go. I intend to become a citizen of Home. Well I did..." he corrected, with a sick look on his face. All that seemed in jeopardy now. "So I never asked about becoming a citizen
here
."

"You may be surprised to know that I too am a citizen of Home. We have no bar to being both. But I don't encourage anyone to swear to me lightly. We take oaths very seriously, and there is little reason for you to become entwined with us if you are just here for a job and will be moving on. Indeed I have no need of citizens in great number scattered to other jurisdictions, because the obligations run both ways. I owe my subjects quite a few things and owing them to a widely scattered population might become difficult."

"Was the fellow I...killed, your subject?" Kurt asked. Would that make things harder for him? It was hard to even make himself say it. It didn't seem quite real.

"No, he was a contractor to a land holder who is a subject. But a homicide in any form is a concern to me. All law regulates killing. Note I wasn't quick to say murder. My man said there were threats. I will give you a chance to explain yourself, and try to assure me most especially that you aren't a continuing threat to anyone. Do you wish to have us call witnesses to observe your trial?" Heather offered.

Dakota came forward and spoke softly to Heather. She seemed very interested.

"A moment, I have video I want to review and an audio recording."

"You
record
in the cafeteria?" Kurt asked. There was a definite note of disapproval there, though he expected a security camera. Spacers were offended by blanket audio recording.

"We have a couple cameras pointed from different angles, but no, we don't record audio. The man you killed had a pad recording in his pocket and it was still running when they received his body at the clinic," Heather explained.

Kurt looked confused. "I can't imagine why he'd want to do that."

"Perhaps his masters don't trust him and required it," Dakota volunteered.

Kurt shut up because Heather had donned earphones to hear the recording privately. It seemed a very bad idea to interrupt. She was looking at a pad too, so they must have synced it for her already.

When she finished she looked at him again, differently. A mask of neutrality had descended over Heather's face. Dakota however looked frankly distressed.

"I hear him using your sister as a threat," Heather said. "That's clear. But he isn't really explicit what pressure they would bring to bear on her if you fail to work for him. Obviously you felt threatened, but he seems completely unprepared for your reaction. Don't get me wrong, I'm quite glad you didn't agree to spy for him. Although I wish we had him alive to interrogate. I'm trying to determine in my own mind if the threat he presented was credible and if your response was...proportional. Do you want to review the recording yourself?"

"I've barely stopped shaking," Kurt admitted. "It would upset me too much to watch it. Believe me, every word he said is etched in my memory forever."

"Let me back up a moment. Do you want me to call witnesses for this trial?" Heather asked.

"Witnesses? Not jurors?" Kurt asked. "Or do you mean people who saw what happened? I've always heard eye witnesses aren't very reliable. You have full recordings so what could they add?"

"No, I'll make the final decisions," Heather explained. "All my hearings are posted to the local net for public viewing, but that's far too late for most people to have any input. If we have an audience they may advise me on the appropriateness of my justice. Be assured I've had some very strong advice from both subjects and peers on both the effect of crime on their community and whether punishment served any purpose. I may reject it, but I'm willing to hear public opinion."

Kurt sat silent a moment and thought about that. She didn't punish dissenters?

"You seem to doubt the...seriousness of the threat made to me and my sister. You haven't lived in North America, or anywhere on Earth have you?" Kurt asked.

"No, I've visited Earth as a tourist, but in relatively remote areas, and as a guest," Heather admitted.

"Then please, see if you can find somebody to advise you who has lived in North America recently. They will understand everything threatened by what Mr. King said."

Heather consulted with Dakota and both used their pads. The table at which she sat had no built in com gear. It surprised Kurt it was actually
wood
. He was pretty sure it wasn't fake.

"We have two people who have lived in North America recently, and two who came to us from Armstrong, which is under North American rule," Heather told Kurt. "Another possible witness is in a rover too far out to join us. These four will be with us in no more than fifteen minutes. One of them is your supervisor Mo Pennington. Do you have any objection he might be biased from knowing you too intimately?"

"Not at all. I get along with Mo fine. He seems to have his head screwed on straight," Kurt said.

"I'm sending Dakota to my quarters to bring coffee. Would you like a cup while we wait?"

Not the cafeteria? Kurt noted, surprised, but said nothing. He quickly accepted. It would be interesting to see what the ruler drank. But he kept feeling ripped back and forth between feeling she was ready to convict him of murder or absolve him. Her signals, or lack of them, was confusing.

"What the hell?" Kurt said and tried to jump up, but felt dizzy quickly and sat back down hard.

"What's wrong?" Dakota asked, worried. Her hand went to her gun easily.

"I saw what looked like a tremendous
huge
spider go behind the other bench there," Kurt said. He was already upset and wondered briefly if he was hallucinating from the stress.