Chapter 5

“The two lieutenants and the two security guys who defected from New Las Vegas appear to be very compatible and are talking about opening a private security company,” April informed her friends. “I was glad because I felt responsible for setting up the situation that made the two flee from NLV.” She needed to talk less and finish her breakfast.

Heather and Jeff exchanged a glance but didn’t say anything. April felt responsible for everything and had a definite rescue complex. It wasn’t her fault how President Hadley had treated his people. Or mistreated them. “How about the vacuum rat who turned the Happy Lewis free from the dock grapples on ISSII back when the war started?” Heather asked. “Did he settle in and get a job here?”

“Well Eddie gave him a big enough reward for saving our butts that he could have started some sort of business of his own, but he doesn’t have that mindset. Dave found him a position with one of those former workers of his that splintered off and started their own shop. I’ve seen him three of four times and he seems happy. He’s a real solid sort,” April asserted.

“We seem to be accumulating a lot of refugees,” Heather observed.

“I think that is all for the good,” Jeff said without hesitation. “We always had fairly good screening to keep mentally unstable and the criminal from coming up. The sort that are leaving Earth now are self selecting for decisiveness, and obviously for awareness that things are steadily getting less desirable down there, and we have something better to offer them here.”

“If only we can keep it,” Heather said worried. “I hold my breath waiting for some junior fascist to tell the Assembly we have to license every sort of activity and start making lots and lots of laws for our own protection.”

“Don’t worry too soon,” April advised her. “We have the right to challenge and duel, and my granddad and Jon, Gunny and Eddie have all talked and recruited others. There is a very unofficial party if you will, that doesn’t have a name or officially exist.” They looked at each other, intensely interested, because they three made just such a secret pact before the war. “Don’t give them away, but if anyone stands up and tries to bury us under a new flood of government control they will either end up on the next shuttle to the mudball or have to stand to the fire of a half dozen of Homes fastest, most accurate pistoleros.”

That got a slow satisfied smile from them.