April 8: It's Always Something (19 page)

BOOK: April 8: It's Always Something
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"Not at all. We're not unhappy with your performance," Kenji insisted. "What has you thinking about leaving after such a long run? We're aware of the labor shortage and economic boom. Are you tempted by other opportunities? Mitsubishi has the advantage of being a very stable low risk employer."

"Well the business climate does make a move easy," Robert agreed. "But I'm not sure I see my position as low risk. We're in a very odd situation here. We have very few laws and aren't adopting any Earth code of laws. So the body of laws is growing very slowly, and there is a great deal of uncertainty. Home does not recognize corporations, so that puts corporations like Mitsubishi in a sort of limbo until there are more rulings, which right now means from case law."

"Are you concerned Home will nationalize the structure of the habitat? Quite a few of us were surprised that didn't happen immediately when you seceded," Kenji admitted.

"No, public opinion runs very deeply to preserve property rights. People want to avoid the direction things took on Earth, and North America in particular, since most of our citizens either lived there or lived under USNA law here. For example, if I tried to introduce the concept of forfeiture at the next Assembly I'd be dead the next day. I'd be called out and there would be a line of applicants demanding to be second, third and so forth, to put a bullet between my eyes. They won't
steal
your corporation's property, but it would be difficult for them to decide who owns it at this point."

"Not the shareholders?" Kenji asked, with interest.

"No, if you reject the legal theory of corporations that's pretty hard to accept. We
had
a motion to allow corporations, second or third Assembly, and one of our people stood and gave a
long
speech on the history of how corporations started as out with a limited life, and as you mentioned, with a specific limited charter. Slowly those limits were corrupted until their rights eclipsed those of real persons, and they could subvert governments.

"We have sole proprietorships and partnerships in which some real person is always responsible. If that is used as a basis for adjudicating any complaint against Mitsubishi then I'd expect to be treated as a partner in their eyes, with all of the liability of an individual and none of the protections of a corporation. I'm paid well, but not
that
well. My personal wealth won't cover a judgment if you don't reimburse me. And I'm definitely not paid well enough to accept a challenge to duel to settle some issue for Mitsubishi," Bob warned him.

"I don't see the legal basis for that," Kenji objected.

"The Assembly pretty much does what they feel is
right
at this point," Robert said. "They may make an effort to make a person whole...or they may decide to treat it as a criminal matter and punish the wrong-doer. There is no clear distinction yet between criminal and civil law. At this rate it's going to be years and years before we have a body of law that addresses most situations.

"Not everybody here is of North American origins. We have people from European nations, India, Australia, even
Japan
. They all have diverse cultural ideas about what constitutes justice, and they can articulate their fondness for these ideas and sway a surprising number of people. One benefit is that almost everybody is cautious about bringing a case before the Assembly. I certainly am! You better be very sure of your righteousness, because they can provide a resolution you never expected. Of course that also delays building up case history that people avoid bringing actions."

"I didn't understand your increased...exposure. I don't think anybody at Mitsubishi does. What can we do to adjust this, not just for you?" Kenji worried. "If you decide to move on it would be a large factor in trying to hire a replacement."

"Make sure the resident manager knows how far you will go to settle judgments or fines. I may not have time to consult in the middle of a trial, so I need to know what you will pay without getting legal on com and trying to find somebody with authority to make a decision."

That made Robert think. He should make something else clear. "We don't
have
lawyers, so you can't send someone to represent you in that capacity. You could appoint somebody to speak for you, but they wouldn't have any special standing.

"I'm surprised though. I rather expected that I'd just be almost automatically let go for even considering the possibility of leaving the company," Bob said.

"Perhaps fifty years ago." Kenji thought about it a moment. "Even as little as thirty years ago for management positions, but reality changes, and the reality is the needs of the company and the worker change so fast now that a lifetime of corporate fealty isn't practical."

Robert Lewis gave him a little poke to see how he'd react to any mention of life extension therapy. "And that lifetime may be even longer soon, exacerbating the situation."

"As you say, and we have no idea how that will play out, here or there," Kenji agreed blandly. "I shall instruct several clerks to search the minutes of your Assemblies, and assemble a summary of those discussions and decisions that might bear on to how they could treat Mitsubishi in the future. Once we reflect on those I'll see that a document is created to guide you in representing us if an issue should come before your Assembly. Is there anything else you require at this time?"

Require
was such a precise and unexpected word. Robert got the feeling Kanji said very little that wasn't quite precise. It felt like a question inside a question.

"No. Thank you. That would be a tremendous help at this time," Robert agreed.

"Then, until we have need of words again," Kanji said, with a nod that wasn't a bow at all.

Robert looked at the blanked screen and reviewed everything in his mind. The more he thought on it, he was sure that if he'd asked for money or perks it would have lessened the importance of his other request. He wasn't broke and the added security he stood to gain was worth far more than a few thousand dollars a month. He decided it went very well indeed, but he still worried there would be reprisals. They might be direct instead of aimed at other Mitsubishi interests, so he would alert Jon as head of the militia, and Mr. Muños in case issues were brought up in the Assembly. And April, yes he should let her know to pass word among her business partners and friends. If nothing else they should be reminded occasionally that the older generation were still players.

Chapter 14

"I'm sending you to Armstrong as a peer, because I want them to understand how important this is to us," Heather said. The fact she'd called Dakota down the hall to a face to face meeting emphasized its importance. They did a lot of everyday business on com.

"If they give you any trouble about what you can load up and remove, tell them to talk to Dennis Harshaw. He never described himself as having any particular title, but if they don't know who he is something is very wrong and his committee to install a government isn't as big a whoop as he indicated. If that doesn't fix things call me, but I don't want you to take anything by force, at this point."

"But maybe later?" Dakota asked.

"Absolutely. We originally intended an armed raid to remove the equipment if we had to fight the Earthies. I'd still do that if we they renege on cooperating, but you aren't going to be equipped to do so. You're simply going to have technicians and movers to load stuff, not fight. If you had to fight there would be unnecessary casualties, on both sides, and possible damage to what we wanted in the first place. Also, initiating a fight while Dr. Holbrook is along to point out what he needs would be stupid. If he gets killed the whole reason for removing the stuff is pretty much gone. If we do have to use force I intend it to be overwhelming force that can act decisively at minimum risk."

"Sounds good to me," Dakota agreed. "But I can still wear my pistol can't I?"

"Certainly, I want them to get used to the idea we're not going to disarm every time we visit. Maybe we can influence them to break away from that ugly North American custom too. Don't argue about that either, just offer to leave if they want to make an issue of it. Remember when I sent Annette to Camelot I gave her my pistol as a sign of authority. That worked there, but I doubt it would be understood as a sign of authority at Armstrong. I'm going to institute a new custom."

Heather reached down on the floor and got something Dakota hadn't seen and handed it to her. It was too big to be a meat tenderizer and too light to crack heads. Dakota wasn't sure what she was supposed to do with it. Whatever its purpose it would be a pain in the butt to carry around on top of everything else she needed.

"Don't look so thrilled," Heather instructed, sarcastically. "You can make a holster to hang it, or put a lanyard on it for convenience.

"OK...Maybe like a bayonet frog," Dakota allowed. Heather leaned over and pecked a search silently in her pad.

"That's a new term to me. I should have known they had to put them somewhere when they weren't...
fixed
to the rifle," Heather said, remembering the other odd usage.

"But you still haven't explained what I'm supposed to
do
with this," Dakota objected. She gave it a few experimental and very aggressive swings to access its heft. "It doesn't have enough mass to do any real damage. I'd think it should have some spikes if you want it to be a weapon, not uh...fins, and it looks too pretty anyway. Is it gold?"

"Gold plated. I'm nowhere near rich enough to waste that much gold on a prop. It's supposed to be mildly menacing, so I'm glad you thought of it as a weapon. The weapons with spikes were called morning stars, but this is a scepter. It is however modeled a bit after the weapon called a mace," Heather allowed. "Rather than a crown or symbol I wanted the flanges to project a bit more...
authority
."

"It would have a lot more
authority
if it had maybe two more kilograms mass," Dakota suggested. "Then I'd be seriously worried about getting smacked in the faceplate with it."

"Yes, I understand. But it's easier to carry if it isn't too heavy. The point of it is pure symbolism," Heather explained. "It represents
my
authority, and I intend to send it with you or anyone I send out on official business with outsiders. If we have occasion to send ambassadors anywhere they will carry it. So don't be shy to explain what it means if anybody asks why you are carrying it. I want it to become common knowledge. I wouldn't want you to actually hit anybody with it and get it all dinged up. Maybe tap a door with it to demand entry, but that's about it. I thought about a ring, there's historic precedent for that, but we so often wear pressure suits that nobody could
see
a ring."

"Get the ring made too," Dakota insisted. "It will be a lot handier for a state dinner or a meeting over a conference table. If you park this on the center of the table in front of you, like a center piece, it lacks subtlety."

"Alright," Heather agreed. "We'll do that too, and reserve this for occasions when the point of my sovereignty needs more
emphasis
than subtlety."

* * *

April got a pang of guilt when she saw her father's com code in the corner of the screen. She took a couple seconds to recover and make sure that reaction was off her face before she accepted the call. After all, she got along better with her father than her mother, so why did she feel this way? Maybe because she hadn't called him in weeks. But then he hadn't called her either, she reminded herself firmly.

He looked relaxed when she answered, but it took a
lot
to knock him into emergency mode. "I no longer work for Mitsubishi North America," her Dad informed April.

"Wow, you finally decided to open the taco stand?"

It was a long standing family joke.

"Alas, not yet. It's simply that Mitsubishi N.A. is no more."

That alarmed April a little. "Then who owns M3?"

"The parent company. I wasn't told all the details," Robert said. "I assume they paid back a ritual dollar or something. The lawyers know all the rituals to make such things legal. But since we're beyond North America's physical reach, there's not much they can do about it. They can file suit and get injunctions and they'll get told to go pound sand."

"They may find other ways to express their displeasure," April worried.

"Exactly why I called," her Dad agreed, "just a heads-up to watch for anything."

"I'll mention it to Jeff and Heather, Chen and a few others," April promised.

"People who work for them will be getting documents. I'll tell Jon after talking to you," he said.

"Thank you, Dad. I'll start those calls right now.

"That's good...Love you," Robert Lewis said, and disconnected with a nod before April could return the sentiment.

So, he called her before Jon. That was interesting. She wasn't sure if that meant anything. She knew who she would call first, punched in the shortcut for Jeff and related the story.

"I think they may have already started," Jeff said, unsurprised. "I was just talking with Irwin, and they informed him the Fed system has ordered all the banks under their system to refuse correspondent accounts with The Private Bank of Home. So the SWIFT system is closed to him in North America. It's always something," he complained.

"Does he still blame you for alienating them?" April asked.

"Not anymore. He seems to have gotten past that. He figures they'll continue trying to cut us off completely, but I'm proud of him, he finally figured out they are hurting themselves in the long term. Off Earth is growing faster than legacy industries, and the other countries aren't going to cut themselves off from the things only we can make. They don't have the political pull to
make
them cut us off anymore, not even their traditional allies."

"Perhaps you and Irwin should create an off Earth banking association," April suggested.

"There's just the two of us, and our minor presence on the moon. We hardly need any sort of a trade association yet," Jeff objected.

"I bet there will be a third bank on Home within a year," April said.

Jeff wasn't about to contradict her. She was too good at this sort of prediction.

"We know that New Marseilles wants to declare independence," April pointed out. "Will they keep banking with the French system or have to scramble to set something up? Can we get a foot in the door there? And we should have something, at least an automated teller on ISSII. How about Mars? Who does the banking for Mars?"

"I don't know," Jeff admitted. "There's only about two hundred people on Mars. There are a good dozen nationalities, and I'm not sure anybody even uses actual physical money. Would you use up your mass limit with money you weren't sure anybody would want? They may just have local accounts to buy the few personal items that are available, and do their banking on Earth."

"Paper money doesn't mass much. If they didn't take some cash along I bet they write out IOUs and credit chits. There are always a few who seem to have a deep seated urge to bet on stuff. I can't imagine there are two hundred people and you can't find a poker game," April told him.

Jeff thought about the people he knew and several poker games, both publically known, such as at the Fox and Hare, and a couple very private ones. He'd been made aware that on Home you could find a game of backgammon, craps or hazard. Especially among the beam dogs. He also couldn't image that among two hundred people they didn't have at least a monthly game on Mars.

April saw that abstracted look Jeff got thinking about something, so she continued.

"You might at least pay someone to be your agent on Mars. If they use bits for poker markers and other personal services then we will be known to them for banking and financial services outside the control of their countries of origin. It positions you to expand when the population expands. You do expect that don't you?"

"I do. Just not
soon
. They've even lost a few residents the last few round trips because the funding is tight. You know I designed a vessel with your Grandpa dedicated to the Mars trip. We have been making small changes to the design whenever the state of the art advanced. We could build one right now to make the entire trip under better acceleration than an ion drive, but there's no reason. Mars just doesn't
produce
anything worth the expense. And getting there quicker is not cheaper than the long slow way already done. I see no way to make it pay," Jeff objected.

"Is tourism too impossible a dream?" April asked.

"Right now?" Jeff asked. "Yes. The people on Mars don't want to devote resources to tourists. Your Grandpa knows two people on Mars from his time in Earth orbit work, and they have a fit when a politician forces a personal inspection tour. They have a long list of researchers and scientists who want to go and can't get passage. So they wouldn't welcome even a small group of real tourists. I imagine they would object they don't have accommodations and don't want to divert resources to build them. That's not even figuring all the little things, like suits, they'd need. If the Earth economy was booming I'd think maybe we could get some of the big universities to dig into their endowment to pay for passengers. But not the way things are now."

"I'll think on it," April promised. "Maybe the only way to cover the cost would be to sell real estate like Heather did on the moon. Do that and you'd be providing your own destination."

"The present occupants honestly believe all that garbage about 'the common property of mankind' and such. They might not be friendly to new neighbors." Jeff warned.

"Armstrong wasn't friendly to Heather either," April pointed out. "The question is, What are they going to
do
about it?"

The adversarial look on April's face bothered Jeff. There were so many other things to do to which nobody would object.

"There might be other tourist destinations, with even more spectacular scenery, and no unfriendly natives to oppose you," Jeff suggested. "Barak went on and on about how Jupiter looks filling the sky. He insists that even the best high definition video doesn't give the same impact."

April perked up and her eyebrows gathered with sudden thought. "Maybe sell a couple seats to go along on an ice mission. We'll have to do a cost analysis. See if the added life support doesn't cost too much. The added mass would be negligible one way. I bet there are at least a few people who'd pay ten Solars to stand and look up at Jupiter."

Jeff was surprised. "I recall Earth ships, ocean going vessels, not spaceships, used to carry a few passengers even on what were mainly freighters. I have no idea if they still do that. I have Li researching some things about big ships. I'm curious enough I'll ask him that too."

"Maybe the extra people would add social stability," April speculated. "That would have value even if you didn't make all that much a head on them."

"People outside the chain of command," Jeff pointed out. "I have no idea what dynamic that would change. I bet passengers could be a pain in the butt."

"Of course...they're people. But the Commander is The Law under way," April reminded him.

"I know I'm the one being taught social things," Jeff admitted. "But I don't think you are cut out to be a cruise director."

"Commander maybe?" April said, hopefully.

"You know what galleys were?" Jeff asked.

"The ships?" April asked, and nodded yes.

"I'm not sure what they called it... I'm not even sure it was historically accurate, in fact I think I saw it in cartoons, but you'd be perfect for the job of the guy at the back who beats on the drum, and the rowers have to keep up with the pace he sets."

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