April (27 page)

"Do you really think anyone would push it to 9 G?" Jeff asked.

"Son, if you are looking at a missile climbing up your tail and want to outrun it, you'll push the throttle to the stops even if your arms fall off and worry about it later. If we build the capacity in, we better make sure it doesn't self-destruct. You ever experience 9 G?"

"No," Jeff admitted. "I had a ride up once on a freight shuttle which pulled 5 G and it was a pretty rough ride. But on the passenger shuttles they try not to do more than 3.5 G now."

"I've ridden military hardware capable of 9 G turning, not straight, but only for a few minutes." Gramps said. "You can take it lying down with your feet up and special pants to squeeze your legs and keep you from blacking out. But even then you start losing your side vision. At high G an old guy like me is courting a stroke. We'll have to talk about limits and some dead man controls, so you can't black out and fly off unconscious with the throttle stuck open."

"Well I see you are both getting into it as I hoped, but it's almost midnight, so could we head home for today? I'm whipped," April admitted.

"Could you guys go ahead and go back without me? I'll go on home as soon as I load this on my pad and finish talking to your grandpa," Jeff said.

April didn't believe it. She figured they'd be bent over the plans far into the new day, but she was willing to drop it if they let her get away. She and Heather decided to leave the boxes here and went back to collect their two wheeler.

"You're so tired you can't keep your eyes focused April. Why don't you stay at our place when we get back and leave a message with your folks so they don't worry?"

It sounded great, so she called as she rode back standing behind Heather, holding her waist on the two wheeler. By the time they got back, she was leaning her face on Heather's taller shoulders from behind, with her eyes shut.

Sylvia seemed unsurprised she was staying and took a moment away from a guest of her own to make sure she was provided for. Heather brought her a pair of soft shorts and a T-shirt, which were too big but OK to sleep in. She took her borrowed clothing and changed at the shower, tossing her dirty outfit in the dry cleaner, for a quick ultrasonic blast and vacuum fluff so she'd have it in the morning.

She wondered briefly where Barak had gone and then remembered he probably had to go to a high G level to sleep at his age. It felt funny getting in bed with Heather, despite the fact she rode back all the way hugging her from behind. She had not slept with anyone since she was really little, but Heather was already sleeping, snoring softly when she crawled in.

Chapter 15

April slept in later than usual. She rolled over and looked around Heather's sleeping space. It was smaller than hers at home, but not as cluttered as the parts of the apartment the whole family used. The wall screen said Sunday October 10, 2083 – 8:12 and she was embarrassed she must be the last one to get up. Her mom always made snippy little comments about people who spent half the day in bed.

Heather was just going to the shower. Her getting up was what probably awakened her. She had to admit sleeping in a half G was pretty comfortable. The rest of the family was up already, so they took their time showering and chatting because nobody was waiting to use it. Heather was not body shy at all. April was, but it was easy to ignore, because Heather didn't have a mean streak like some girls, to comment on how skinny she was. She was too busy talking about equipment and technical ideas.

Nobody seemed in any hurry to chase her off and Heather assumed she would stay for breakfast so she went along with it. She also suspected her parents wouldn't mind a lazy Sunday morning right now, without her underfoot. Sunday was usually not a work day for her dad. Maybe Bob would even have the brains to make himself scarce. Apparently it was no big deal for the Andersons to have guests at their meals. She had to admit it was fun. She had taken the initiative when they went to the kitchen and asked Sylvia what she could do to help, but they had been almost done.

One thing she was certain about the woman, was she had no trouble letting it show when she was pleased. April wondered if she should get prepared mentally for when Sylvia had a complaint, because she suspected she would not hold back then either. She'd have to ask Heather about it. At least this morning she wouldn't be a target of humor and watched so closely, since they had a new guest.  He was seated already by Sylvia and the two of them were earnestly speaking about some business matter.

She was about to sit herself and realized with a start there was no other extra bed for him either, so he must have slept with Sylvia. She felt herself blushing at the sudden realization and hoped nobody would figure out why. She took a trip to the bathroom to contain her reaction before somebody figured it out.

The Earthie news acted like all the station dwellers were political radicals and wanton morally, but from her own experience she thought them much more conservative than Grounders. She had asked her grandpa about it once, because she didn't feel comfortable asking her mom. His answer had been, that the kind of people they brought up to the station, were mostly smart enough to not do whatever they wanted today, knowing it would be a disaster tomorrow. When she had persisted in asking why they thought station people were like that, he had assured her that part of it was orchestrated propaganda.

She hadn't thought about that conversation in a long time, but it was making more sense now that she was more aware of politics. She went back to the table after she thought she had control of her expression.

The breakfast was simpler than the dinner last night, except for the coffee. April usually had cream and sugar in her coffee, but not seeing any on the table she tried it black rather than interrupt the conversation. The flavor was like none she had ever had. It was complex. It even smelled completely different, with a rich nutty flavor and no real bitterness. She'd have to ask about it when she had Sylvia alone. And she would have to find some gift to send for all the hospitality she was being shown.

The pancakes were good. So different from the cafeteria's no comparison was reasonable. They were thin but rolled around filling instead of stacked. The fellow talking with Sylvia had been briefly introduced when she sat down and he wasn't really speaking to her. He seemed to be a sort of art agent and they were concerned about shipping the panels Sylvia was working on now. He seemed quite worried that might be difficult if real trouble with the Rock materialized. April got the impression he would have loved to try to hurry Sylvia along to get them done sooner, but wouldn't come right out and say so. It was odd, he seemed as relaxed as any house guest can be, yet he had dressed in a suit for breakfast with a beautiful tie and his jacket on. Perhaps he dressed so formally every day.

April wasn't sure her dad even owned a suit. She knew for a fact Bob didn't. Bob thought formal meant long pants and socks. From the hint of a soft accent he seemed to be French and April finally had heard enough she had to ask a couple questions, but she wanted a conversation opener, which didn't have her jumping right in with a controversial question. She decided a light personal question would be best first.

"Mr. Broutin those are lovely cufflinks. We see so little stylish Earth clothing here. Those look like they would work just fine in zero G though. Would you show me how they work?"

He seemed amused such a common item was of interest. "Yes it holds just fine. I know because I have worn them a number of times on the shuttle. Once they are under tension it takes considerable manipulation to extract them." He unbuttoned the cuff of his suit jacket and folded it back. April knew enough about men's clothing to realize that fancy detail meant she was probably looking at a ten thousand EuroMark suit of clothes. The cufflink came out with a quick practiced motion of his fingers and he favored April with a chance to examine it. It was simple rectangular shapes of high karat gold with a raised edge to protect the faces, elaborately engine engraved and then fired over the pattern with a translucent enamel.

"This sort has a solid post between the plates, like a set of Tuxedo studs, but a lot of them have a link of chain or swiveled bar. I like this sort where the small inside piece has decoration on it also, just like the larger plate, rather than just bare."

"Is it ever an item of a feminine attire?" April wondered.

He looked thoughtful. "I have only rarely seen a woman's blouse with French cuffs. But jewelry is so suitable to the ladies. I see no reason why you should not wear them. If
you
like them, why don't you take up the custom and see if others follow?" He gave her a surprisingly penetrating gaze. "After all, even in fashion someone must have the courage to grasp the lead and show the rest where to go. Why shouldn't it be you?" he asked in a rather challenging way.

"I believe I shall," she said firmly, determined not to back down to his forceful manner and proceeded to her real question. "Mr. Broutin, I would value an opinion from your different viewpoint. You are neither a station dweller, nor one of the parties involved in the Rock. Like you, I'm also worried about the problems developing around the Rock, but could you tell me specifically, why you think it will interrupt normal shipping, because we are very dependent on importing food and other supplies. It's a problem I hadn't considered."

"Miss Lewis, anytime there has been a conflict on Earth, blockade has been something the governments have always used very quickly. I'm sure you have seen examples in your history lessons of air and naval blockade."

"It played a huge role in your own War Between the States and then next century penetrating the German blockades of the Atlantic in the European War. The First Atomic War was protracted by the fact the Pacific was too vast for them to blockade with the sensor suites they possessed then and no satellite coverage although they had those tools only two decades later."

"Even in the Slow War, between the Democratic powers and the Soviet Empire, they stopped the Soviet gambit to use Cuba to penetrate the Western Hemisphere by blockade. A blockade of M3 might be better compared to the Berlin blockade right after the European War, as it was just a city not a huge area. Just because it is a new territory beyond the atmosphere means nothing. The same tested tools are what the powers that be will turn to quickly. It is only new in the sense it hasn't happened up here yet. I absolutely expect it to happen, if not in this current crisis then another time soon."

"Could you send Sylvia's panels to another station not under USNA law and send them down from there? Or even to lunar orbit and then transfer back to a station? My brother and I are in the process of refurbishing a small craft we plan to use for such work and intend to be doing business quite soon as Lewis Couriers."

He looked at her with a very hesitant expression. "Perhaps I am mistaking your age. You really have ownership interest in a spacecraft? Who will be piloting it and how will you be insuring it?" he asked pointedly. Privately he was remembering his hostess had told him last night the children were off working on a spaceship, not partying.

He'd thought she was joking. These 'children' made him uneasy because they just weren't very - childish.

He thought of his cousin's three children in comparison. They assumed everything should be fun and spent their parents money heedlessly, assuming it would always be bountiful. They were near the same ages, but they would never ask him about matters of state and policy. They were lost in a world of fashion and role playing games and rolled their eyes in contempt at adult affairs.

"I know people from Earth have a hard time imagining we start so young here learning to conduct business. My folks would say the best way to learn something is to do it, so they give us pretty free reign to do what we want with our own money. They expect us to ask their help when we commit to a big investment, but I have yet to see them tell Bob he can't try something."

"I'm just shy of fourteen and my brother Bob is only three years older than I am and he probably has six businesses going at any one time. And he trades his own stock account, as I do. I'm really not very interested in business for its own sake, but he just thrives on it. He almost always makes some money from his idea, but he's only had outright failures a few times," she said, remembering the mushrooms.

"I'm usually willing to help him, given his success rate. As to how he's going to insure the vessel, I have no idea. I'm pretty busy right now with other things and one condition of my helping him with this new enterprise, was he would take care of the business plan and all I had to contribute was money and to get a pilots certificate for the scooter."

"I'm cramming right now and planning on taking my examination and being certified to pilot it both local and orbit to orbit in a few weeks. He'll also be qualified and there are many people from the construction crew we could hire. I'm sure my grandfather is experienced at driving a scooter."

Switching subjects she appealed to him. "I feel funny however being called Miss Lewis. Would you just call me April please?"

His eyebrows had climbed up his forehead quite a bit listening to her explanation. To her request he said, "Such informality is really not my custom, so it would make me feel funny too."

"Oh I don't mind calling you Mr. Broutin or Monsieur Broutin if you like. I don't expect it to work both ways. I just get distracted when I'm called by my family name. It would be a kindness for you to use April."

"Well, I don't want to be unkind at all - April. I have to point out several difficulties, you may wish to discuss with your brother. Insurers often will not continue coverage for vessels in a war zone. On Earth it has often been a problem for sea going vessels. It means you may find the bank carrying your loan for the craft will withdraw their approval and demand the repossession of it, if they feel it would be risked uninsured.

Since there may be no practical way to move such a vessel safely, if it is blocked in at a proscribed port, you may lose title to it simply sitting at dock, waiting for the right to travel again."