Family Law 3: Secrets in the Stars (47 page)

"I don't have any busted tips, they must build them really cheap," He inspected the other middle limb carefully and went back to his coffee.

Lee didn't bother to say anything. She'd seen Gordon casually open sturdy cans of field rations by ripping the side open from end to end with a claw. It would probably take something classed as plate instead of sheet before he'd notice it resisting. She just went to the kitchen and told the chef and his assistant that their guests were stirring and they could start cooking. That made them happy.

Gordon finished a leisurely breakfast and chatted with them before he let the com signal concern him. When he finally sauntered over and sat at the console Lee followed and looked over his shoulder. As soon as Gordon accepted the call, the secretary for Green, Bennett and Glenn monitoring it had an executive on the line for Gordon in seconds.

It was night in New York City. The scene from John Bennett's corner office was spectacular. He was turned the wrong way to enjoy it. He looked at the screen and the expression that came to his face upon seeing Gordon was one of relief, although delayed just a heartbeat by the speed of light lag.

"Gordon! So glad to hear from you. I was worried there was some problem."

"We did get a little bureaucratic nonsense," Gordon admitted. "We got admitted straight in to land and went to Central to talk to the head lady there right now. We had some serious questions about who exactly is in charge, and she answered them for us. That ruffled some feathers and once we were no longer under her explicit hospitality they wanted to make us back up and jump through all the hoops. They were very thorough with the testing, but didn't hold us in quarantine."

"I can file a protest if you are getting prejudicial treatment. Who handles your claims was one of the things I wanted to talk about. When we served you before, the
High Hopes
was a USNA flagged vessel. It was automatic the USNA appointed senior account representative should administer your case. But now that you are flagged to your own clan and not one of the Big Five Commission members you can ask for whomever you wish to process your claims. There are a half dozen that rotate in the position to serve the members in common. You might be more comfortable with somebody you didn't cause any loss to in the war," John suggested.

"I actually was going to suggest just the opposite," Gordon said. "I remember Adrian Bertrand was a real stickler for making everybody satisfied that it was a clean deal. I'd much rather dump it right in the North Americans laps and dare them to cut corners on us."

John looked shocked. "You are a devious scoundrel," he said, but it didn't sound like a negative the way he said it. "They'll have
everybody
watching them, eager to complain about the slightest deviation, because most of the other members think they have too much power. I like it.

"What I
don't
like is there are simply more claims in your data than we can process properly. We have a certain volume of business for which we plan. There are a limited number of professionals who can be hired on a temporary basis to help us. It is rather a specialty at law. After that we run out of good options quickly. Raiding other firms for their employees is not an option.

"What I'd very much hope you will grant permission to do is farm out some of the less important claims to other reputable firms, and pursue the more lucrative ones in-house with our present staff," John suggested.

"Sure, it is quite a lot all at once, isn't it?" Gordon agreed. "Some of those claims are for simple things like fueling rights in a system that doesn't have anything else going for it. Feel free to spread them around. That's the way to do it, instead of upsetting everybody. Let's just try to get a few of the bigger claims for the brown dwarfs submitted, so we can take some positive news about them back home."

"Certainly," John agreed. "It's going to run well into the next year before we process ever single claim. I'll be forwarding reports to you when you are back at Derfhome."

"I'd also like you to inquire of the Commission on our behalf," Gordon said. "We have the spox of two alien races with us, and they are interested in cooperating with the Claims Commission as they explore and make their own claims near Human space. It's an excellent opportunity to secure good relations with them before there can be any conflict or misunderstandings."

"They don't wish to join as members?" John Bennett asked.

"They don't have armed ships to assume member obligations. But that's one of the trade items they're here to obtain. Perhaps in time they will qualify," Gordon said.

"That's a new set of circumstances. I will inquire on for you. We'd be happy to represent these new people too, if they desire counsel," John offered.

"Thank you. We have every confidence in you," Gordon assured him. "You handled our claims before just fine and we've had no challenges or problems. And I can recommend you to our new allies." John wisely took that for a goodbye.

Thor was standing behind them as they finished their call, scowling. "You know, maybe we're dumping too much on the market. We might be driving the prices down we'll get offered on these claims. Just like there are only so many claims lawyers, there are probably only so many developers waiting to bid on mining rights and development."

Gordon thought on it a bit, going back to the cleared breakfast table where there was still coffee available to top off his mug.

"There's no help for it," Gordon finally decided. "The way the system is set up you have five years to file. You can't stockpile claims and dole them out a bit at a time. Perhaps if they'd pictured such a huge set of claims as this coming in all at once they'd have made provisions for something like that at the start. But until now everyone has been eager for every new claim to be put on the market immediately.

"I think it will affect our immediate returns more than the long range prospects. Over time it's going to be very good for the whole economy, and that's to our advantage. To most of the crew who own a share there is very little difference between having a hundred million dollars Ceres or a couple billion the first year. It's still more than almost any of them can spend. The few that want something like a starship or vast tracts of land will just have to wait. We didn't promise any specific payout after all."

There was a chime and they all looked at the com board, but nothing lit up. It took a moment to realize it was the door signaling they had a visitor.

Gordon, cautious from previous visits and the way the Commission had just treated them made sure who was there before opening the door. They after all had not engaged a security force for their rooms.

"Room, can you display who is at our entry or inquire of them what they wish?" Gordon asked.

The com console showed a view of the outside corridor on its screen. "The audio channel for the door intercom is muted unless you hold the transmit button," the house computer told them.

It was Gabriel at their door again, completely unexpected. Lee went over and held the appropriate key down. "Hello Gabriel, what can we do for you?" she asked.

"Today isn't a work-day for me and I'm in town. I wondered if I might play the guide for you? Are any of you up for some touring or are you too busy with business?"

Lee frowned. "You know, I hadn't thought about it before, but last time we were here there was a huge fuss in the press and the hotel was mobbed with a bunch of crazed reporters so we couldn't go out. How is it they are ignoring us this time?"

If Gabriel was offended by standing in the corridor answering questions he didn't show it. Indeed he had the decency to look a bit ashamed, or was it amused?

"When ships land at the field on invitation of the Sovereign there isn't any official announcement. That's one of the conditions of leasing the field. They might announce it now that your business with her is finished, but I imagine they are treating it with an abundance of caution. They seem to realize that any serious irritation is liable to close the field to them, and that would be awkward. One has no idea what other arrangements they could make."

Lee looked a question at Gordon and he shrugged. "Room, unlock and admit our visitor," Lee said.

"You could have called on com first and saved yourself a trip if we planned on holing up," Lee said.

"I would have, if it were out of the way," Gabriel agreed. "It was three hundred steps from the lock, and half of them on my way in any case."

"Is that how you gauge distances here?" Lee asked.

"Very much so. In fact in the Republic, or even back at Central, if you inquire where a shop is located the answer is likely to be, back to the mall and four hundred and ten steps down corridor seven, before you pass the pressure curtain. Most folks don't call a cart until they need to go two thousand steps, or are in some sort of a hurry."

"When I was here before with Lee's parents I noticed that in Europe everybody gave distances in kilometers," Gordon said. "But in North America they said – 'Oh that's a forty minute drive' – Now you have introduced me to a different custom."

"And when you skate on moon-boots you figure it's about four steps to the slide," Gabriel said.

"Should I get a pair of those?" Lee asked.

"Have you ever used ice skates or roller skates?" Gabriel asked.

"Never," Lee admitted.

"Your choice, but if you have never used anything similar expect to fall down a few times. Newbies also tend to run into things, because stopping well is harder than building up speed. There are auto-dispensers all over the city that will cut you a pair if you'd like to try them."

"Can they fit me?" Gordon asked, lifting a foot the size of a serving platter to show Gabriel.

"Now that is a very interesting question," Gabriel said looking at the size of the foot, and the claws. “I'd love to see how the machine reacts if you stuff that foot in the fitting well."

"We'll find out then," Gordon decided. "I thought it was kind of neat watching you glide along."

The others passed on an expedition, just Lee and Gordon deciding a tour of Armstrong and lunch out was just the thing.

* * *

They chose a taxi over walking to get in the center of the city and down six levels. Lee wanted to see the museum where the
Happy Lewis
hung. The ship looked even smaller in person than on video. The old suits were interesting, as were some really old rovers they let you go inside.

Lee found there was a huge collection of images from the early days of both Armstrong and Central. She hadn't seen those searching online. When they went back to their rooms she resolved to set her pad to download the whole collection overnight.

Beside the exit there was a transparent cube on a pedestal. A small sign discretely said ‘For the support of the museum’. It had a slot on top. Lee had never seen anything like it. The bottom was filled with coins. Most were small and silvery. She didn't recognize them. They weren't Ceres Dollars.

"Can they really collect enough that way to make a difference?" Lee wondered.

"Probably not to keep the place open, but they take school kids through. It's good to teach them they have to support things like this if they want them to stay open. A lot of little kids carry bits," Gabriel said, motioning at the box. "Some parents don't approve of letting them use phone payments until they are ten or twelve. It's too abstract. I'm sure they take donations online."

So, that's what a Home Bit looked like. Lee resolved she'd drop a donation on them later. It was only fair for all the images she was going to grab.

Gabriel suggested having lunch fairly close, so no need to call a taxi back, and there was a footie dispenser across the small square outside the museum. So they could try the Loonie footgear.

The vending machine cut a pair of slippers for Gordon without hesitation. Somebody had obviously anticipated Derf customers or the software would have returned an error message. The thin stretched material looked so dainty on Gordon's huge paws it was comical. But whoever set the machines up knew enough to have the inner-sole material doubled over along the front where his claws would have pierced a single thickness.

Gordon assumed an interesting pose, middle arms clasped behind him, true hands held loosely at his sides. The expressions on the few Loonies they passed were priceless. Lee suspected he was hamming it up, doing a pump and glide... pump and glide... lifting his trailing foot high behind him. It failed to look dainty given his bulk. Lee was a little irritated he had better balance and form than she did.

The cafe Gabriel took them too didn't look like much from the street. The front was open and a half dozen small tables occupied a small room with a bar along one wall. The bar was, however, wood, and Lee was starting to appreciate that meant money on the moon. The space behind it was like something from one of her period videos with tiers of fancy bottles in front of a huge mirror.

The fellow that greeted them made a little bow to Gabriel acknowledging him by name, but made no move to take them to one of the small tables, instead he led them through a curtain of beaded strands into a short hallway. Lee stopped and ran the beads between her fingers, fascinated. The interior room was much bigger with a domed ceiling and table set in alcoves around the perimeter for privacy. The center of the room had three trees. One seemed bare, but the larger one had oranges and the smaller one lemons.

The staff hurried to remove the seat on one of the booths to make room for Gordon and Lee and Gabriel took the cushioned seat on the other side. Lee was frankly staring at the trees.

"Are those real or fake?" she demanded.

The host, seating them, was amused. "Please, be my guest and pick one. You can eat the orange, or have a drink made from it if you prefer the lemon."

Lee went over and looked at the oranges closely, felt the leaves and squeezed an orange gently with her fingertips. It was firm and orange, but not the vivid saturated color she expected. She went instead to the smaller tree and examined a lemon. It was more tapered in shape, about a hundred millimeters long, and had a little bump on the bottom end instead of under the stem like the orange. It was shinier and a little waxy too. When Lee pulled on it the whole branch dipped toward her and didn't let go of the fruit.