13 Degrees of Separation (24 page)

John had even given them, Sparks, Howie, and a few of the
others detailed blueprints to make the yard and other things. Tons of software
and data, critical things no one outside of Pyrax had. And apparently no one in
Antigua had any interest in letting them implement without a fight.

Their original plan was out the lock, hell, they were on
what, plan C? D? E? He didn't know. It didn't matter, just as one of them
finally got somewhere damn it!

“So what's wrong now?” he asked with a sigh. The others
glanced his way and then turned to Alice who in turn turned to the Warners with
a raised eyebrow.

“I'm guessing something good,” Ezri sighed. She brushed her
skirt, annoyed at being here on duty. She had twenty minutes before she had to
go back on shift to cover for Jordan.

“Yes... and no. The bad news is yes the space bots line is
down. We lost the last contract when we couldn't deliver and even incurred a
penalty for nondelivery.”

“Wonderful,” Howie sighed.

“So we can't build the tug?” Shari asked, trying hard not
to sound exasperated. Petunia her Neo gorilla sister wife nearby grunted in
irritation.

“Right now we can't even afford a pilot for one,” Clio the
AI replied. She had originally been one of the muses on the station, her role
had been as historian and researcher. The admiral's AI had found her and
restored her higher functions and retasked her with managing Fusion one. She'd
finally been relieved of that duty when another AI and sufficient organics to
man and maintain the reactor had stepped up.

At ends she'd bounced around with small tasks before she'd
decided to invest some of her earnings into various start up banks and other
projects including the Yard Dogs. She'd decided that she owed Sprite and the
admiral that much, to try to oversee their creation and help it along. So far
they weren't having that much luck in that department.

The plan had been to build enough space bots to fund a tug
and hire a pilot. With a tug in their stable they could start supplying
themselves with the raw material needed by the other factory modules... thus
getting off the ground. However that plan had been demolished by the latest
tariff the station council had slapped on outside construction.

The group talked, not really getting anywhere. The Warners
seemed distracted half the time, not really paying attention so the organics in
the room rambled. Alice got up and swept the floor. After a while Ralphi got up
and went behind the bar to unload the dishwasher.

The consensus eventually came down to the fact that they
needed more help, they needed resources. They were producing space bots but
were still in the red. “And we'll be in the red until we can either catch a
break or get off this fecking station!” Savo snarled. The others didn't
disagree. They didn't like it that the station was either undercutting them or
taxing them heavily. They were supposed to be a start up, with a tax shelter
and other protections to allow them to get a good foundation and grow. But the
way the station and government were working it they were getting screwed.

They were also pissed off over the slip. The slip was a
scaffold, a full repair slip for a medium sized ship. It was a simple thing
really, just a structure that wrapped around the ship so lights, robots, and
other things necessary to working safely on the hull of a ship could anchor
themselves to.

Admiral Irons had directed its construction months ago in
order to fulfill the contract between the station and Kiev 221 and the
Lieandra. Several ships had asked to be repaired since then but all had been
rejected. Oh they were sold parts at high prices by the stationers, but
exterior repairs were off limits according to the station council. So the slip
sat their idle, drifting like a piece of junk. They had repeatedly tried to
rent it but had been denied. The station council never gave a reason why, nor
even a figure to try to achieve. Just a straight no.

The Warners were in control of the military equipment Irons
had left behind. They had proposed building their own slip which had been
supported by the company. However they had yet to get anywhere since the
station was slowly strangling them.

“We're working on it. The fact that we are one of only a
dozen companies other than the station that can even produce bots, tugs, and
other space machinery is a good thing.”

Savo grunted. “But not good enough. We're in the red remember?
We're paying more for the resources and the assembly than were getting for each
bot.”

“And we can't raise the prices, we're locked into
contracts. And if we do we'll get underbid. Which reminds me the latest
contract is up next week. We've been informed the station isn't interested in
renewing.”

“Lovely,” Savo muttered rubbing his brow. “We can't even...
you're telling me we were making the damn bots for free, hell paying them to
take them off our hands and now they are telling us thanks but no thanks?”

“It's about that way,” Clio sighed. “We were underbid. I
can't get involved because I'm on the board here. Same with the others, we all
have to abstain.”

“Which drops the contracts into the hands of our
competitors. Who can't do shit compared to us! Are they nuts?” Savo snarled.

“It seems that way doesn't it?” Clio said serenely. His
brown eyes studied her avatar. She shrugged off his gaze and smiled back at
him. “Staring me down only works on a meat sack,” she told him winningly. He
snorted and finally looked away.

“Figures,” he muttered.

“So we can make the bots and tugs for ourselves then?”
Alice asked. The others looked at her.

“We can't afford them. The resource cost is just too
expensive,” Clio explained patiently. “The plan was to grow, to build bots and
tugs and then use them to grow exponentially but unfortunately all these taxes
are killing us.”

“Yeah we know,” a few of the people in the room all said in
unison.

Clio nodded unhappily. “And I know you know. We're going in
circles.”

“Which you AI hate. Okay. So any other ideas?”

“There aren't any other start ups. We've got reduce
inventory soon and get rid of some of our warehouse space or we're going to be
charged a premium on top of the fee when the contract is up for renewal in
three months.”

“You're not serious.”

“I'm afraid I am. The zoning commission changed the rates
in our section.”

“Oh feck all. That's all we need!”

“Yeah well...” Clio sighed as the organics vented. She
really couldn't blame them. She'd started to see a pattern in all this activity
against them. At first she'd thought it was all bureaucracy but she'd noted the
pattern when the commission had ruled in a closed door meeting. That had opened
her virtual eyes to the possibility of enemy action.

Some of the other AI she'd shared the data with were at
least keeping an open mind. She knew the organics already had their suspicions,
they were spouting them even now as they blew off steam. It was so fascinating
seeing emotional responses from them. Fascinating, just intriguing. Did they understand
that all this angst was raising their blood pressure causing possible damage?
There was after all, nothing they could do to stop the process. Of course they
did know all that yet they did all this yelling anyway. What a fascinating
paradox, she thought.

...*...*...*...*...

Mairi and Olga found and rented their quarters. Mairi
didn't care where they ended up, a bed was a bed at this point, she was tired.
Her mother had tried to drag her all over the station looking at this and that.
All while Mairi carried their luggage of course.

Still, they were here now, and that was what mattered. She
smiled as her mother pressed her thumb to the lock and then stepped aside so
Mairi could. When Mairi removed her thumb the light above the lock turned green
and the door opened with a soft shush.

Slowly they stepped inside just as the lights flicked and
came on. They looked around and were amazed by the space and furnishings. The
door opened to a massive room, ten times bigger than their tiny apartment back
in Senka.  The green painted living room was larger than their previous home of
2 years. “You really think we can afford this?” Olga asked, sounding excited.
She was staring at the wall screen in front of the tan couch with a giddy grin
on her face.

Mairi looked around, her left hand on her shoulder strap.
She honestly couldn't answer that, she wasn't sure. But she was determined to
try, they'd signed a two month lease. If they kept the payments on time they'd
be able to extend it into a one year at the present rate.

“As long as you don't run us into the red mom. And if we
both can find a decent job soon,” Mairi replied, setting the duffel down behind
her and then shrugging the other bags off. She resented that her mother had
only her small clutch bag. Olga had said it was to keep her hands free in case
of need. Yeah right.

Her mother rushed around, trying the various appliances
out. Mairi tossed her bags onto her the bed she chose and then turned to her
mother. Her mother poked the mattress and then nodded. Mairi made a point of
not fetching her bag, instead taking her turn inspecting the apartment. It was
nice, something out of a holo movie. Quite nice. She wasn't sure she... no
they...
mom was just going to have to find a damn job like it or not... would be
able to afford it in the long run, but it was still nice. Nice and clean. A
fresh start indeed.

Chapter
2

At their Monday night shareholders meeting, Clio briefed
the group on old and new business. It was their regular meeting, on a slow
night for the bar so they wouldn't have much of a conflict with Ralph and
Alice. At least not until the game seasons started up again in a few weeks, for
now the bar was nearly a ghost town, deserted.

Of course the meeting had its detractors. Savo and others
who had come up from the trenches in blue collar jobs were not comfortable with
share holder meetings. Sitting still listening and reading reports was hard for
someone who was used to doing something with their hands, or for someone who
usually walked a beat. They talked about the usual plans and setbacks, really
beating a dead horse in Savo's opinion. There was additional resistance from
the station council Taylor warned, though he still wasn't sure about the
source. “Yan Fu's been keeping quite since the admiral left. He's... I don't
know, almost depressed I think. Which makes me wonder if he's behind the
attacks at all.”

“Or using a front man?” Clio asked. She had known Fu for a
lot longer than the organics.

“It's possible,” Taylor Warner said, sighing.

“Any new business? Leads?” Clio asked.

Petunia raised a meaty hand. She informed them that Olaf, a
friend who had also come over from Kiev 221 had inquired into joining the dogs
if and when they ever got their acts together. Apparently he was tired of the
crap he was getting from the station. Savo smiled ruefully at that. “He any
good?” Freeze asked.

“Good for a human,” Petunia said, blowing air out in a
teasing chuff. Freeze chuckled.

“He's from Kiev so you know him,” Sparks said, looking from
the gorilla to the chimp. Savo shrugged.

“Hey, I'm just security. Yeah I knew the guy, he's okay,
likes to drink beer and potato vodka. Get's a bit ornery when he's drunk, but
hey, don't we all?” he asked grinning slightly.

“Yeah,” Sparks replied. “Just don't expect me out in the
dark.” He shivered. He could probably handle it, but he knew how dangerous it
was trying to cut and weld materials. Throw in being in a fragile, easily
ripped space suit and no, Ezri and Regina had both put their collective foots
down. The boys were banned from space walks.

Space hands were one of the highest paid on the station.
Recently they'd formed a union to fight off attempts by the various
corporations and the station to cut their wages and double their space walk
hours. Space was dangerous enough, throw in cranky people, tired from working
too many hours and casualties started to happen. Well, more than they currently
had anyway.

Most of the space work on the station was exterior clearing
of debris and hull repair. Once they had a patched hull people like Sparks and
Freeze moved in on the inside to finish the job, running pipe and duct work,
patching or replacing data cables and power runs. Unfortunately the station
couldn't make EPS conduit so the work had slowed down a lot.

Unfortunately that division of work wouldn't apply to the
construction of the yard, at least not with the scaffolding and the exterior of
the grand module. That sort of work would have to be by hand. They had some
feelers out for riggers but so far no bites. 

When they had a contained atmosphere Freeze and Sparks
would have a field day. They were looking forward to it, they were saving up
their time off to do it. Once the yard was operational and in the black they
planned to turn in their resignations and work full time in the yard. The
appeal of being their own bosses was a heady dream.

“Joe and a couple of the guys said they are interested, but
only if we can get our shit together,” Sparks said. “We've got to get it
together soon, we're a running joke right now. Junkyard dogs,” he said
wrinkling his nose.