April (21 page)

Having the order taken care of seemed enough of an excuse to talk to Heather again, so she dialed her up conventionally. Heather answered sitting on a sofa. There was a little face peering over her shoulder from behind who must be her young brother.

"Hello, Heather. I wondered if maybe we could get together late Saturday? I'll have Jeff's stuff for him and we can talk about setting up his machines too. I have a couple gifts for you guys also."

"Do you have anything for me?" the boy asked hopefully.

"Maybe," said April, appraising him a little. "Are you any good at make believe?"

"I make Mom believe me all the time,"

They laughed, but it was not cruel laughter so he smiled along with them. "It's a little different, but I'll show you when I come. What's your name?"

"I'm Barak, Heather's brother."

"Here's our address," Heather said. She leaned forward and touched the pad. She must have it loaded to a single hot key, she didn't type. It appeared in a small window and April saved it to her address book. "You are welcome to have a bite with us. Say, 18:00?"

"Okay, Saturday. Bye then," she ended. Barak was waving goodbye as the scene faded out.

She went back to examine the capes and see if one would work for a small boy. There was one which was thin and simple and should do for super hero type fantasy. I might as well start showing these she thought. I'll wear one to lunch, she thought, putting a dark blue one on which complimented her outfit.

The cafeteria was near empty when she went in and Ruby was happy to see her. "Now that's different," she said, looking at the cape. "I can't recall the last time I saw one of those."

"Have you ever worn one?" April asked. "You are so nicely thin I think you'd look good in one."

"You know, I never have, but I bet my husband would look fine in one. He has a sort of fierce, dignified look about him a cape might fit."

April made a mental note to send one to their apartment. No one asked her about it but she noticed several people looking at the cape as she left also, so her campaign was started. Now, what could she wear one with tomorrow?

Chapter 12

Two days later, Saturday October 9, 2083 10:30 April was waiting at the shuttle gate in the non-rotating hub. As a permanent resident she could log out and get past the bearing to meet her mom and brother in zero-G. Being the Director's daughter probably helped too, but she would have been upset if anyone suggested that. Most business greeters and temporary residents had to wait in spin to meet their people. She took off the slippers she was wearing with a light sole and stuck them in her belt. The footies she had on instead of socks had an outer layer of tacky material to grip if you needed to bounce off a surface in zero-G. She pulled on very thin stretch gloves too, knowing her mom would be upset if she didn't wear them. Mom was a clean freak about public surfaces and you had to touch a lot in zero G.

She found a spot to the side and watched the first surge of passengers come out. It tended to be cool here and she had worn her favorite sweats with a scrub top in printed white clouds on blue under it. After a while she realized she was tense, watching for spies and saboteurs instead of relatives. After the flow slowed and she could see across the round chamber, she saw Jon's detective Margaret was tucked behind a stout stand desk near the opposite wall, watching the passengers and working some equipment. She might be a detective, but now April had seen her work as a crime scene tech and a security guard. Jon's people must wear a lot of hats.

Margaret had on the uniform security used for their rare patrol work. Light blue elastic cuffed pants with a dark blue stripe down the sides and a matching pullover top with shoulder patches and collar and cuffed sleeves to match the stripe on the trousers. A dark blue beret held a gold shield on front, that must be pinned to her hair to stay on. What surprised her to see was a Taser holstered where her left elbow could cover it. It was a new policy to have uniformed security armed.

Margaret gave a hello in the helmet-talk, which leaked across from the vacuum rats to the rest of the station. April was pretty good with it because of her grandpa, but she had trouble with it if she wasn't oriented the same as the other person.

April could not cut straight across traffic to her, but did a two bouncer around the perimeter to land beside Margaret and then turned around orienting herself the same way to be polite, holding the edge of the podium beside Margaret. The instrument clamped on top of the podium had an oversize screen, showing about thirty graphic lines drawn like a strip recorder. Each line scrolled off to the left and in a column down the right side a number flickered and changed beside each one.

Margaret smelled of something minty. She must be sucking on a candy. Once the passengers got past Margaret they still had to check in on a taster terminal, which would check their DNA and log them onto the station. Adding a second person to all incoming Earth shuttle flights was a strain on their small security organization. But Jon was not about to allow a weapon, large or small, to get past the hub bearing into the spun up section, where the log in desk was situated, so they had to be screened here.

Trying to keep all these Grounders lined up and moving smoothly to touch the pad, in this zero G environment would have been a circus, so they couldn't move that function here. The first timers were so clumsy and disoriented, the resident little kids occasionally begged their parents to bring them here just to watch for fun.

"Is this the famous sniffer machine?" April asked her.

"Yeah, it does what you do with your nose, Girl." Margaret confirmed. "The other smaller box here watches for biological agents and we have stuff built in the lectern to watch for people who are sick themselves and for radiological threats. We don't even bother to screen for minor weapons like knives, because it's the scan they concentrate on at the other end."

"So Jon finally told you how I knew about the guy's gun," she said a little embarrassed.

Margaret looked up away from the display for a moment and April was uneasy what kind of regard she would be receiving. To her surprise and confusion, it was a frankly warm and affectionate look. She found herself relaxing again somewhat.

"Hey now," Margaret said looking at the screen and then back to her, "much better. You looked like you were waiting for me to slap you alongside the head. You aren't one of those people afraid of anyone in uniform are you?" She had toe straps so she put an arm around April's waist and put enough pressure to keep her feet against the deck.

"No Margaret, the uniform doesn't bother me, but I am a little worried you guys will resent a snotty nosed kid getting you out of bed in the middle of the night and sticking her nose in security business. I really don't want to be known as a tremendous pain in the butt." But Margaret's appraising gaze so close and the easy way her arm went around April gave her a touch of new panic. Perhaps Margaret had more affection for her than was comfortable.

Margaret had her eyes back on the screen. "We have to sit and have lunch together some day and talk. I can't watch this and talk like I would like."

One of the lines on the screen took a rise and the number on the right started rolling up bigger values.

"What's happening?" April asked.

"Alcohol and associated radicals. Big guy there I think," she nodded at a huge fellow in a dark blue suit floating serenely toward them. "Some folks are so scared of flying, the only way they can get on board is to get so numb they don't care if they crash and burn. Oh yeah," she said as he passed close by. "He has such a load of rocket juice, he should have a sign around his neck - NO SPARKS OR OPEN FLAMES." Drunk he might be, but he was obviously used to handling himself in micro-G and floated by smoothly, like a majestic zeppelin with sticky booties on, his Earth style shoes off and visible in a net bag.

"The boss pretty much had to tell us your story, to explain all the changes being made and why we have to do a sniff on every shuttle arriving. Incidentally I am really happy to see you are clean," she said giving her another glance. "Jon told us not to say anything or detain you, if you set the sniffer off, he would talk to you himself."

April felt herself blushing. She hated not having more control over her face.

"Don't worry," Margaret reassured her, "half the staff wants to deputize you and the other half want to see if you would run true in a cloning. I wouldn't be surprised if someone in security starts a fan club and puts a web site up about you." It just made April blush even deeper.

"There are my people," she said, relieved to be able to flee the unaccustomed praise. "Honest," she told Margaret before she left, "I never carry a firearm. I promised someone I wouldn't. You call me for lunch like you said, or even better breakfast. I always like company at breakfast." Then she was unhappy how eager she sounded, remembering the firm hand on her waist and fled embarrassed. Margaret behind her just chalked it up to her age. She had been self conscious as a teenager too.

Her mom and brother were almost to the mouth of the connecting tube, so she jumped, rolled over and landed on the wall next to the tube, then launched herself in the same direction as them when they exited the tube. Her mom passed over some packages to her and her brother launched into some typical big long-winded thing about how the shuttle company could make more money if the seats were arranged different in the shuttle, without even saying hi. It appeared there was only one man behind them.

When they got to the bearing there was an attendant, to help people through into the spin. "Need a hand with the bags Ma'am?" he asked. She declined. "No thanks. I'm used to it." She jumped clean for the handrail rotating around the opposite opening. When she reached it she took it double handed and let it slide through her hands. The acceleration swung her and the bags hanging on her elbows around as she followed the rail gaining speed, until she looped over the rail to the other side and looked back over it at them. Her head was sticking back over the rail, going round and round the opening.

April and Bob jumped together and joined their mom without jostling each other, or losing any packages. They took the elevator outspin a bit, where had enough weight they could walk along. With her mom staying in the lead April appraised the two. He brother had just about caught up with her mom in height. He definitely took after her mom, with more height and a sturdier frame. In the face too, he had the classic shapes. He could be an actor given a face with such character, where she would be satisfied with perhaps cute as a description. He had the darker hair cut short as the boys did now, while their dad favored a little more length, as was in fashion when he was younger.

Security was set up to log visitors in here, where most folks could walk fairly steady. The lock cabinet was open and folded down, to expose the terminal and the dull  ceramic tile of a taste pad propped up to be visible. Her mom and brother touched it in passing hardly breaking stride and she touched it again, as she had on the way out to meet them. She nodded at the security man politely as they passed.

The crowd was gone, the corridor almost empty before them. Her mom pressed an antiseptic wipe on her brother, who would never have bothered using one if she wasn't along. If he lived alone he would be one big vector for disease. April had her own to use after touching the pad. The ceramic was silver infused and wouldn't support any culture, but her mom pulled fresh gloves on, she was a clean freak. At least she didn't wear a mask in public like some hard core germ-phobes.

He fell back beside April to talk. "Would you be interested in a courier business with me April? I have a chance to buy the equipment dirt cheap, but I need a partner who will train for it and come in for shares at first instead of salary."

She tried to picture herself running packages through the corridor. Most common packages were delivered off little robotic carts, so a courier only delivered high end stuff, too hot or valuable to let it from a responsible person's sight, like important documents or people's prescriptions. Would they have a little electric cart for heavy stuff? She remembered her depleted account. She'd have to tap her core accounts. Every time she got involved in one of his business ideas they did make money, but he was always totally consumed and got upset if you were not like him. In fact she was surprised he wanted her as a business partner again.

And there was guilt by association to worry about. Housekeeping was still unhappy with him about the mushrooms. They had been cheaper to grow here than lift to orbit, but who knew they'd grow on air filters so efficiently? It had certainly made people pay attention to the replacement interval, when they had been casual about it before. They never seemed to get every last patch, so there were always a few spores in the air now, ready to colonize somewhere.

"What kind of training would I need for this?" she asked. "Also is this one of those things where I can't have a life while we are doing it? I have quite a bit going on with Heather and Jeff right now. So don't expect me to do one of those total immersion kind of start ups."

"No, I know you don't want to be tied up all the time. Neither do I, honestly. If we can both be licensed on the scooter.  Then if one of us is tied up with a class or an appointment, the other can take the run."

"Scooter?" she asked." Oh, you mean outside pressure, like the construction guys use to push around girders and stuff? Isn't that kind of dangerous work?"

Bob gave a glance at his mom's back and told April in face talk to shut up, for bringing up danger in earshot of their mom. It was a tongue tip shown briefly plugging the pursed lips, but he showed quite a bit, very emphatically. Face talk had come about when workers who were constantly monitored and recorded working in vacuum, needed to talk privately. It was perfect for having a conversation behind their mother's back.

"Yeah," he responded out loud, "pushing heavy stuff around in a crowded construction volume would be dangerous, but what I am talking about is running light freight between habitats and running deliveries out to job sites. Sometimes they need drugs or medical equipment at another hab, or they have a critical system down in need of parts. There are only about a half dozen people doing it and they charge unbelievable rates. Once in awhile you get to go to private stations or the Chinese habitats, that hardly anyone ever see."