April 8: It's Always Something (6 page)

"It is kibbeh labanieh today, Mr. Hagen. I had it myself just a bit ago. Very good!" he promised.

Jan called a few words to his back before he'd gone far in that other language Arash had used at the door. Arash just waved an acknowledgement over his shoulder.

"What is that? Arabic?" Kurt asked.

"Farsi. Arash is Persian," Jan informed him.

"Does that mean Iranian?"

"That most specifically means
not
Iranian, as far as Arash is concerned. Best to humor him on that," Jan suggested. "He'll be polite to customers, but he may tell you in some detail why he isn't Iranian. Of course you wouldn't understand most of the curses, so it would be far less dramatic."

"Got you. I won't go there," Kurt agreed.

"So tell me," Jan asked. "How is it you decided to return to Earth, and then made what I have to assume was a very large effort to return?"

Kurt poured out his tale, starting with his sister, and how bored he'd gotten with the lack of fun things to do on Home. How he missed the open sky and fresh seafood, the Southern Steak House on George Street and the ma and pa hamburger place in his old neighborhood that then disappointed him by being closed. The clubs where you could waste a night wonderfully with friends listening to live music.

Jan nodded thoughtfully, raised an occasional eyebrow, looked skeptical on occasion and hardly said a word himself until Kurt was recounting his job search and the benevolent old cop who had been exceedingly honest with him. He had no idea he was in the hands of a master interrogator. By the time the entree came he'd told Jan things he wasn't even aware he'd known.

They had been served a tiny tabbouleh salad, which Arash informed them was all lunar sourced. It seemed normal, except instead of seeded and diced tomatoes it was tiny grape tomatoes each cut in eight pieces. There were fresh puffed loaves of pita bread so hot and full of steam they couldn't handle them at first. They were served a crushed lentil soup that was so good Kurt had to talk less and savor it. It was obviously made with stock not water, thick and full of cumin and pepper and something else Kurt couldn't identify. Arash apologized that they had no fresh lemons, but offered a bottle of lemon juice concentrate in a vinegar bottle. Kurt noticed Jan only got a cup and he was served a bigger bowl.

The main dish was a hot thick yogurt sauce with generous footballs of kibbeh half submerged in it, served in a large shallow soup plate. They shared a dish of Syrian rice with almond slivers and a few small bites of vegetables and pickled turnip for garnish. Arash brought more bread and more of the garlic spread he noticed Jan hit heavily.

"But this isn't right," Kurt protested. "They brought me a much bigger soup and now I have a double portion of meat to yours."

Jan waved it away with a dismissive gesture. "That's what I told him to do when he was walking away earlier," He'd also told him to serve them slowly, so he had more time to question Kurt. "I sit at a desk most of the day and you are a young man who does physical labor. If I ate what satisfies you I'd be seeing the doctor to lose some weight in a month. It's easier just not to shove it in my face in the first place. I enjoy it well enough. They do a fine job with limited supply, don't they?"

"Thank you. I haven't been eating this well back in Mobile," Kurt admitted. He couldn't imagine how better supply could improve it. He wasn't a gourmand to get all prickly over the lack of a real lemon. They just squirted everywhere but where he wanted them to go anyway.

"You returned when supply was just about as bad as it got. They've made great progress with salad things and vegetables. They even produce limited beef now. Not
bone
beef," Jan added at Kurt's surprised expression, "but I've had a filet mignon from their early production that had excellent taste and texture. The fellow directing most of this, a young fellow by the name of Singh, assures me we'll have vat grown chicken and lamb and pork over the next couple years. They even plan to raise shrimp in some of their water storage tanks."

"Mr. Singh is the fellow I hope to work for on the moon, and Home later on," Kurt said. "I'm promised an interview and a medical. It isn't a totally done deal yet."

Jan didn't say anything for a moment, looking up from his meal faintly surprised.

"I think you would be doing very well to gain an association with Jeff Singh. He's well regarded at Home and on the moon. He has two partners, Heather and April, who aren't as well known to the public for their business dealing as they are for their political activities. However I'll advise you they are both quite capable and not to be underestimated." Jan added an emphatic little nod to that statement, so Kurt took it to heart. The man was very low key, and not given to extravagant gestures. He could see already that a nod from Jan was the same as some others raising their voice and flailing their arms about.

"Thank you, that's good to know. A useful little bit of insider stuff. I'll try not to say anything stupid if I meet either of them while dealing with Mr. Singh."

That was good. He got the point entirely. Arash came up and laid his hand hesitantly on the bread basket. Jan made an almost unperceivable no motion with his head, and Arash took it. Kurt had cleaned his plate so thoroughly there wasn't much he could have sopped up anyway. There was one piece of pita left Kurt had ignored awhile, so Jan judged that his guest was done.

Arash returned with a fresh pot of coffee. An extravagance that astonished Kurt. He hoped they wouldn't just discard the half pot that had cooled. This time there was a more elaborate plate of sweets. Jan was pleased, as he hadn't asked for it, but Arash took it on his initiative to extend the luncheon so he could pump a little more out of the fellow, but Kurt took it another direction, and he didn't fight it.

"I'm curious. You obviously aren't a North American since you were so...firm with them. You look European and the name is German isn't it?"

Jan gave a nod and a tilt that said: Yeah, close enough.

"Whom do you represent?" Kurt asked.

"Why, all twenty seven sovereign nations that have a charter interest in the station! No,
really
," he insisted to Kurt's skeptical expression. "If I've stifled some of them trying to take advantage, to dominate use of the station and curtail other member's privileges, I'm simply doing my job and what's right. It's no surprise that the big contributors, the Americans and the Chinese who put the most money into its construction, might think they have greater rights. That seems to be human nature, but I've consistently disabused them of any such silly idea. The charter is clear that they all have equal access and opportunity to use it according to their ability."

Kurt caught that..."You've pissed off the Chinese too?"

Jan spread his hands and pantomimed an unconvincing innocence. "It isn't like it's terribly difficult. They not only wanted to snatch a lady out of the common area, just like the North Americans did the Home fellow. They intended to do it while the party in question was under my
personal
escort and protection, as well as armed folks involved in the rebellion of Home that was just then starting,
and
a major Chicago Mafia family. They hit the trifecta of stupidity that day!"

"So, I'm assuming then that it turned out badly for them?" Kurt probed.

"Well we managed to get the Home people safely away without loss, but they wouldn't leave well enough alone once that was accomplished, and tried to hold their vessel at dock and impose their own controls on navigation from Earth orders. I eventually ejected them from the station when no other course seemed to sway them."

"You sent them back to Earth?" Karl asked.

"Not exactly. They had an excursion out the airlock, without benefit of pressure suit. One fellow in his skivvies actually," Jan said. "The little fellows are still peeved about that. I suppose one of the reasons nobody wants to relieve me at this post is the flood of protests and charges that haven't abated since. Who wants to face that moving into a new position? I just ignore them and move on with my business. The other thing is, I figure the fact that I'm still here, no matter how polite my people are about all the objections to my continuing, is a message to them from my governments that they're just as pleased as can be with what I did. Otherwise the first thing they would do is fire me to appease the protesting North Americans and Chinese."

Being a vacuum worker that scene in his mind horrified Kurt. He could practically feel his ears pop.

"Why do you say
my
governments if you rep them all?" Kurt asked, still skeptical.

"Oh I represent them all, but I was appointed by the Swiss for a term, then the Germans, and then the Swiss again. I can probably get the Austrians to accept me for their own from family and cultural ties if the others get tired of taking turns."

"You're Swiss right now?" Kurt asked, unbelieving.

"It's Tuesday, right? Swiss. Definitely Swiss today," Jan joked.

"Thank you for lunch," Kurt said. He was going into information overload, and Jan could see that. So he just assured Kurt he was welcome and to call on him any time he had questions or interesting information to share. He went straight back to his office across the railing like a hurdler, smooth as could be. Arash came and cleared Jan's place and poured fresh coffee for Kurt. He acted differently with Kurt now that he associated him with Jan.

"Oh! I didn't see Jan take care of the check," Kurt suddenly realized. "What do we owe you?" He was a little panicked because it was going to be a
lot
in North American dollars.

"Mr. Hagen runs an account with the house and we settle periodically," Arash said, amused. "Don't concern yourself with it."

"Overall, the young fellow is sincere and still charmingly naive," Jan wrapped up his report to Jeff. It was unusual for Jan to call Jeff directly and not go through Jeff's man Chen or Home's counterpoint to him, Jon Davis, but he seemed to have a special interest. "He is observant enough to be useful as a source of information. I could tell however that he didn't connect all the dots on what he knew just by the rambling order in which he related them. He needs some maturity, but I'd groom him for senior management eventually."

Jeff squinted at that and pursed his lips. That much of a display to Jan was equal to an hour of interrogation with high quality veracity software to some lesser talents. "Other than the fact you have recruited him to your own net, and would like to keep him positioned usefully, and he's capable for his age, I don't see sufficient reason to view him as anything but a temporary worker for this one project. Did I miss some point about why he'd be so valuable to slot for management?"

"Yes, I believe you did miss a critical point," Jan said bluntly. "I mentioned that he screwed up big time by going back to Earth. It was a bad choice for bad reasons. Again, reasons of youth. But the point was he admitted he screwed up without trying to make a list of excuses. Don't you realize how rare that is in people? That he could admit to himself he made an error first. Many can't do that. But to admit it to others is a huge step beyond. This is the sort of fellow you want working for you in twenty years, when you have a complex project that can't help but have problems and setbacks. The difference between success and failure can often be a manager who either comes to you with a problem to fix it, or tries to cover it up for fear some blame may attach to him. You do see what a disaster that can be?"

"Ah...As a friend of mine has said a few times, I'm instructed. Perhaps this is a reflection of my own lack of social skills," Jeff admitted, "but I just
expect
that of my employees. I'll have to discuss it further with April. She has brought me a long way toward understanding social and...emotional issues."

"Well you can expect it all you want, but if it hasn't bitten you on the butt yet it's a miracle. If you weren't aware people
do
that, then I'm glad I could enlighten you," Jan said.

"I believe I'd have classed that as Earth Think. But I will keep it in mind," Jeff promised.

"And you should know...Yes I did a soft recruit, and invited him to feel free to talk to me, but he isn't in my
pay
," Jan said.

Jeff weighed everything in his mind, staring into the screen, projecting all sorts of information to Jan who watched this very brief but intense process play out on his face without a word.

"He wouldn't have taken the pay, or the implied conditions that went with it," Jeff decided.

"You are an absolutely infuriating person," Jan said. "You miss the obvious and then clearly see the much more complex with ease."

Jeff did an elaborate shrug. "Then only put the complicated questions to me," he invited. "It will be more efficient and less frustrating for everyone involved."

He wasn't sure why Jan was laughing so hard when he disconnected.

* * *

"Colonel Allister, I've had no success at all negotiating privately with Colonel Bilkie of the God's Warriors. I wish you'd reconsider softening our ideology on rank. The fact I'm bringing a request to them from a Colonel instead of a General seems to make a real difference in how they view it. I get the constant feeling they consider us a lesser organization because we are headed by a committee of equals rather than a head. I know it's an empty title, but you
are
acting as head, even if temporarily. Why not let whichever Colonel is acting head assume the temporary rank of General? Not personally, but rotating. It will present a face to these others they can understand."

"We
had
a General. It's too much power for one man and pretty soon he believes his own lies." The memory of how deeply he'd trusted that General and how deeply disappointed he'd been in his purity of purpose still haunted Allister. "Softening our ideology is why he was removed," he reminded Sass. "If you are uncomfortable with our structure, Lieutenant, you are welcome to resign your commission and return to being a simple soldier who doesn't have to ponder these things, just follow orders."

"No sir. I believe I have something to contribute." Lieutenant Sass replied. He'd seen what happened to those reduced in rank. They were assigned things like door kicking that afforded them opportunity to demonstrate their ultimate loyalty on an accelerated basis.

"We shall proceed with our own resources," Allister decided. "There are still facilities and units that haven't been integrated. It would have been easier with their cooperation. Not so much with space resources, because we hold most of those, but on this end with ground resources like transport and supply."

"Things have gone much smoother in that regard since they tried stopping our convoy trying to pass through Phoenix last month," Sass pointed out.

"Well yes. It's one thing to set up a roadblock for migrants, but the lead vehicle had our flag on the fenders. Besides, it takes a special kind of stupid to stand in the middle of the road and scream abuse at a fellow standing up behind a 40mm grenade repeater. Anyway..." Allister said, setting the folder in front of him aside to show he was done with this matter. "Set this operation in motion, and report to me if there are any problems implementing it, or in the timing. The Holies don't seem to have any heart to challenge the spacers. If they don't feel the urgency they'd make poor allies anyway. The first time there was any real difficulties they'd be looking for an excuse to back off."

"Yes sir." Sass was already standing to leave as soon as he saw his folder being put aside, and he saluted sharply. He knew from experience it didn't do to wait for a more explicit dismissal.

Back in his own office Sass called the group leader who would actually implement the operation. Group Leader John Hearne didn't wear rank tabs. His USNA uniform was unadorned except for the three slanted silver bars on the collar points. It was in a midnight blue that no other service shared. It marked him as a direct voice of the party and the new equivalent of a political officer. There were a handful of operatives like him and they'd been created about six months ago. He didn't salute any USNA rank, and he didn't take conflicting orders from any rank but the party leaders. Even the Holies knew to regard him as the voice of the Colonels in the field. He looked very happy to be ordered into Sass' office, because chances were they were finally going to
do
something instead of talk it to death.

Sass reached up, left handed, and lifted his own collar point to display the Patriot Party cross pinned under it out of sight. That's all he would do to affirm this was an inside circle party directive rather than a USNA operation. Nothing was said aloud, no orders would be set in any media. Hearne's group got sent on regular USNA actions, but supporting those was regarded as training to keep his group's skills sharp.

"We have a stealthed reentry vehicle identified that we believe is a Home weapons bus, and have been optically tracking it," Sass told him. "Are you
certain
you have a team that can crack and disassemble it without detonating it?"

"Absolutely. I know you lost a ship and personnel before, trying to access one of these Home devices. Two ships actually, our own and the one the Lewis boy was forced to let us board. But the specialist tasked with examining their tech was horribly under qualified. It was foolishness to task him with it. I wouldn't have trusted him to neutralize a roadside IED, and it was undoubtedly at not much more than that level of sophistication.

"In contrast, beside the best North American bomb expert, we have one trained with the Israelis working with him as a team. Nothing cobbled together by some Indian teenager is going to stump those guys," Hearne promised. "I'd expect
my
teenage boy to have as much success trying to lock me out of something for a science fair project."

"And you still feel it shouldn't be attempted in place?" Sass asked.

"No, there is no way we can lift the equipment we need. A lot of it is massive and there's no other way to do an internal scan with sufficient detail. We need to return it to Earth, and before you ask, we can't fit the stuff on a ship without a major refit that would take it out of service."

"Where do you intend to work on it?" Sass asked.

"The best facility we have is in San Diego. It's fully under Sons of Liberty control, and any elements on base with a majority of Holies have been segregated and are outside our command structure."

Sass pictured what would happen if a device the size of the one the Homies used to obliterate Jiuquan went off in San Diego. That just wasn't an acceptable risk.

"No," Sass said firmly, leaving no room for discussion. "Pick somewhere else secure. It can be a military base but not with the industrial or population density or fleet assets we have around San Diego. If you need to move equipment your transport will be given priority."

Hearne looked irked, but controlled his temper. "Pensacola then. It has most of the equipment and the response group is actually sited there. We'll be moving at least one large sonic scanner the navy uses to them. They've been complaining they need their own for some time anyway. We'll start fabricating another one, to replace the one we move. It's air transportable if disassembled. I can have it in Pensacola in three days."

"That's good," Sass agreed. "If you lose it in Pensacola it's bad, but it isn't a huge metropolitan complex with millions of people and a primary fleet port at risk. Half the zone of destruction would be in the gulf even."

"If you have the mentality you aren't going to succeed, you have no business touching a device like this," Hearne said with a bit of a sneer. "I'll be right there within a few meters of the thing directing the operation. I'm also making plans for some well deserved leave and recreation after we're done."

Sass just nodded an acknowledgement. There was no advantage in trying to curb this fellow's arrogance, it seemed necessary even, to his sort of work. He was after all
using
it himself, wasn't he?  So how could he complain about it? The man could feel contempt for him all he wanted, but Sass wouldn't be anywhere within a hundred kilometers of the Spacer Devil device.

* * *

April, Jeff and Heather were in conference on com. They'd have rather been all snuggled together and without pressing business except each other, but that was increasingly difficult to arrange.

"Jan has mentioned that the North Americans have continued to pay their fees to occupy their portion of the ISSII, but made no effort to send a new crew up to occupy it," Jeff said.

"He sees that as sinister?" April asked.

"Maybe not directly malevolent," Jeff said, "but inexplicable."

"For what are they using the resources instead?" April asked.

"That seems to be more the focus of Jan's concern," Jeff agreed.

"They have been acting strangely in Armstrong too," Heather revealed. "I've had a half dozen people seek residence here rather than accept being transferred back to Earth. The number of landings have increased too. But whatever they are bringing in it isn't people, rather they are taking people back to Earth before their full contract period is finished. They're taking anything they can grasp at, as an excuse to purge people from residence."

"I'm deeply suspicious any time they change habits," Jeff said.

"Of course," April agreed, "and so is Jan or he wouldn't have mentioned it. He may not have acted excited or upset, that's not Jan. The man doesn't engage in idle chit-chat."

"Four of our new arrivals have been scientists, which reduces the number of actual researchers at Armstrong to only two, of which these guys are aware. They seemed to assume they would be gone or seeking asylum soon too," Heather said.

"That's how they characterized themselves?" April asked. "Not just seeking to emigrate but asking asylum? On what basis?"

"Two of them said they can't contact their families back home in North America, and fear the worst, that they have been purged." Heather said. "One said his scholastic mentor who sat for his doctoral thesis was arrested and anyone connected with him is suspect. They all said they were interrogated about their politics, and not having any politics was regarded as just as bad as having the wrong politics. The one fellow was informed his father attended a church where the pastor is a prominent God's Warriors supporter and was asked to denounce him in order to retain his position.

"I'm letting them in, but it's going to be challenging integrating them into the community. I suspect I'm going to be founding a university much earlier than we'd planned. Not only is the one lunar geologist pretty useless for anything else but cafeteria work, but he really was doing good work we need and can use in his proper specialty. He can be turned loose with a rover and a minder to make sure he doesn't forget to put his suit helmet on, and be happy as can be doing the same research for us. Several have said they'd have rather gone to Home and worked with Jeff or his mom, but there simply isn't anywhere to live or sleep there, and no research university or company with facilities that would allow them to work at their specialties."