
Apologies… “Friends in the Stars” file wrong
Going to look on my bookshelf “Friends in the Stars” was in review even though I hadn’t undated it recently. It STAYED in review and I had to chat with Amazon and ask it be taken out of review. They promised to finalize that in 24 hrs but took three days. When it finally cleared I checked on it and it had an OLD copy of “Another Word for Magic” mis-published. I do apologize. I intend to re-edit “Friends” soon.
On editing…
A number of people were unhappy with the editing of”I Never Applied for this Job”. I sent it out to a half dozen beta readers and still had quite a few errors returned after publishing. In the past I’ve paid $1k for professional editing and didn’t get as clean a copy as volunteer readers. I also used Grammarly with so-so results. That ended after a Windows update stopped it working for me. A couple of days ago, I loaded Grammarly again, and not only does it work again, it seems to be improved. I’d applied it to my last two books, mostly getting changes of punctuation. I’m looking forward to applying it BEFORE sending out the next book to readers.
Kindle issues
Several people have described not being able to save books under the new file type. I understand the program Epubor can do that for about $30. I haven’t tried it. If anyone else does please report back to us.
I just published Family Law #8, I Never Applied for This Job
I’ll change it as the latest book release tomorrow. It’s a little involved to do tonight.
I’ve finished “I Never Applied for This Job”
I’ve had some help editing and have one more set of correction to apply. Those will be mostly punctuation. It’s been fun to write. I should publish before the end of the month. Life keeps interfering. Jan had a bunch of unexpected doc appointments.
Unedited snippet of “I Never Applied for This Job”
Son of One Eye finished a circle of their settlement, leaned on his spear, and contemplated sitting down for a moment. Experience informed him that if he did, he’d go to sleep sitting up. If the sun didn’t waken him before his replacement arrived, he’d get a beating for neglecting his duty. He sighed and started another circuit.
Part way into his next circuit he heard a faint noise and looked back. There was a glow coming from between the huts he’d just passed. Nobody kept a fire going at night and for a moment he was terrified there was an accidental fire started. That fear subsided when he realized the glow wasn’t the yellow of open flame. It was not only bluish tinted but lacked the flickering of open flames. He retraced his steps until the source was in sight. That raised more questions than it answered.
In an open spot between the huts a brilliant rectangle of light shone like nothing he’d ever seen. This wasn’t any night raid of Teen forces. It never occurred to him anything other than a raid would happen on his watch requiring action. This didn’t seem a danger but he was certain this month’s Leader would be upset if he tried to ignore it as outside his duty as night guard. He needed to investigate even though this strange thing scared him. That shamed him and he was determined not to let it show. He was already certain he’d need to go waken the Leader and that was something to dread all by itself. If he didn’t go investigate closer his Leader would want to know why he didn’t have more information to report.
“We’ve got a live one,” Tom reported. “This is an amplified image. The pad camera isn’t as good as dedicated night vision. With normal biological vision you’d barely be able to see something was out there twenty meters away. The light from the pad really helps. It’s very dark there with no moon and nothing but starlight.”
The image was dark with only the Bunny’s eyes reflecting brightly. The edges of his image blended with the black night behind him and visible areas pixelated as he moved.
“If his eyes are anything like ours it will totally ruin his night vision to look at the screen,” Jeff said. “Do you have it set to minimum brightness?”
“I didn’t think of that,” Tom admitted. “I made it bright to help them find it. I’m dimming it now.”
Son of One Eye took a couple of tentative steps towards this oddity and stopped when it slowly grew dimmer. If it went completely dark that was fine with him. He could continue on his rounds and forget he ever saw it. Unfortunately, it only dropped from its eye searing brightness to a much gentler glow. At the new level he could see something on the ground in front of it. He steeled himself and continued to approach.
The image on the screen didn’t make sense to him at first. April knew that might be the case and included the image of a Bunny from the earlier video transmissions for scale with a literal scale projected beside him. The Bunny image was of the sort Son of One Eye knew from before he was sentenced to the gap work gang. It moved but ran a short time and repeated. The rest of the screen was in color and much clearer and sharper than the gray scale images of Bunny video. There were also windows showing a short video of Jeff, April, and the Badgers together. Jeff gave a solemn nod, April smiled, and the Badgers both waved hello.
The one window not repeating on a short cycle was Lee. It didn’t take Son of One Eye long to decide that window was a live transmission. He flipped his spear over and grabbed it behind the head to prod this thing without getting too close.
The part flat to the ground as covered with all sorts of tiny buttons. When he pushed on the front edge with the butt of his spear it slid a little on the ground. Up close he could see a border around the glowing picture. When he pushed gently on the picture it tilted back and the part on the ground lifted. He let off before it tipped over.
The mouth worked on the Human and it said, “No break. Ask you. No break.” But the mouth movements didn’t match the loud Bunny words he heard.
“Much loud,” Son of One Eye said. “Much quieter.” He requested with a downward pushing gesture of his flat hand that was perfectly understandable. If that thing kept speaking so loudly, it would have half the camp up and in ill humor in short order.
Lee muted her mic, looked off camera, and spoke with someone before responding.
“Better?” Lee asked in almost a whisper. “Permit we talk?” Lee asked.
“Yes, yes. I go get Leader. You talk with Leader,” he suggested.
“Take me to your leader,” Lee suggested.
She had no idea why Jeff had a giggle fit he struggled to stifle. It seemed a better idea than bringing the leader out in the night to her pad.
“Yes….” Son of One Eye said, hesitating. He was shy to pick up the strange device. He’d already been warned not to break it.
“Close thing,” Lee suggested and illustrated what she meant with her hands.
“Oh.”
They watched as he griped the top edge of the screen and slowly pulled it down with exaggerated care. Their screen went dark as the camera was covered.
“What is wrong with you?” Lee asked Jeff once the transmission cut off.
“Take me to your leader was a cliché line for little green men and flying saucer jokes long before any Human made it to orbit,” Jeff informed her.
“I don’t know history,” Lee admitted. “I guess that would be funny if unexpected.”
“You had to be set up for it to be funny,” Jeff admitted. “It’s a once funny for sure.”
Son of One Eye set the strange device down and cranked the precious flashlight a minute to make sure it would work. He avoided using it if he didn’t need to. They only had three and when they broke or the battery failed there wouldn’t be any replacement. He laid his spear out of the way outside the door and went in with the flashlight aiding him and the Human’s pad under one arm. The light didn’t rouse the leader at all. Not even when he shone it directly in his face.
Shaking him just got an unintelligible mumble and an arm thrown over his eyes. Son of One Eye opened the alien machine. There was a sudden realization for him working the hinge that it was a machine. Thankfully, the light came back on. He pulled aside leader’s arm and the unnatural light did what the flashlight couldn’t. His eyes came open if only slits and his nose clutched shut like something stank.
“What in the darkest pits of hell is that thing?” Leader demanded. Such references to superstition was one of the offenses that got him sentenced to the gap.
“Some kind of machine that communicates better than a whole video studio. It appears to be sent by space aliens and they want to talk to us. I’m just a night guard. You can have the joy of talking to them and the blame if you screw up.”
“Space aliens are something grandmothers use to scare the littles,” Leader said.
“Tell that to them,” Son of One Eye said pointing at the screen. “Maybe they aren’t space aliens. Maybe they are from your pits of hell. But they want to talk to you.”
Leader sat up and really focused on the screen for the first time.
“Piles of foul excrement upon the common foot path,” Leader proclaimed. “I have two days left before next month’s Leader. Why couldn’t this wait?”
“I had a similar thought about it befalling us on my guard shift.”
“I’m getting a lot of new words and grammar from this guy,” Tom told his Humans.
“What are you?” Leader asked the screen.
“I’m called a Human,” Lee said. “I wanted to show you these other aliens that are with us. They are called Badgers. There are others kinds not with us right now.”
“Why talk to us?” Leader wondered. “I’d think you’d want to talk to the Teen and all his slaves in the big city. We are escaped outlaws and poor.”
“I’m guessing you don’t know why they came for all the supervisors and stopped you working to cut a pass in the mountains?”
“No idea. Some have speculated a crop failure or a sudden epidemic. Whatever it was, I knew that we as criminals would be given the worst jobs to fix it with the least resources. At least cutting down the mountains we got fed. I wasn’t going to go back to even worse conditions. Do you know what happened?”
“Yes, we aliens came and were speaking with the Teen’s men in the city. We were ordered to land so the Teen could inspect his ships. When we refused… Well, I’ll show you video of what happened,” Lee said.
The month Leader watched and didn’t dismiss Son of One Eye so he watched too.
The English sub-titles were auto-translated from the transmission. There were three of the natives seated before the camera and others came in and out, laying down documents and picking up notes the three made.
Luke speaking: “We will not land. Stop asking. We expect (see literally) you take our (literally, not Teen) ships if we land. Teen is your Teen. We have no Teen. We no want one.”
First native: “If Teen not own everything (unknown word) to far stars – Teen owns almost nothing. One star in all the (unknown word) heavens is nothing. Either he owns all or our law and (peace?) is (unknown word, may be a curse) nothing (zero?).”
Second native: “We have no way (hand literally) (to? variation on word make) them land. What you suggest we do?” (Face of native is very contorted. This may indicate great stress.)
First native: “Tell it to Teen.” (His face assumes similar contortions. This statement may not have been a serious suggestion, but identifying sarcasm in a new alien language is chancy.)
Third native: “We are doomed (dead?).”
First native: “Tell Teen this!” (He rips off his collar. The second native jumps up, snatches it from his hand, and grabs him in a headlock from behind.)
Third native: (Looks at struggling pair. Then looks back at the camera lens.) Says: (three unknown words. Camera feed cuts off. Carrier signal follows quickly.)
“Shortly after this the city started burning and it spread to the other two cities. We didn’t mean to start this. Nobody tried to talk to us with video or radio again,” Lee said. “Here is how that looked. The aerial view showed plumes of smoke on the wind from all over the city. It zoomed in close enough to see gridlocked traffic, cars burning, and a bridge down.
This month’s Leader surprised Lee by laughing and slapping his hands on his legs. They didn’t even know that Bunnies laughed.
“Good. Burn it all down,” Leader said. “Thank you for giving the little push it needed. I doubt they will come bother us for a long time. You talk better now than before.”
An unedited snippet of my WIP
“If we ever eat again after this,” Lee said. “The pastry tray has certainly grown since the last one I ordered.”
The server smiled.
“We have a new pastry chef and she’s showing off.”
He left happy they noticed.
“You see why the staff like her?” April asked. “She not only said thank you, she chatted with him like a person. Lots of the rich and famous treat the help like furniture”
“That’s pretty stupid to do with the people handling your food,” Lee said. “That’s begging for karma to make a special guest appearance.”
“She’s so polite she says thank you to the house computer,” Tish told them.
“Better to always use it than forget for someone who will miss it,” Lee insisted.
“I can’t fault that,” April admitted.
“Sweet little shrieking goddesses!” Tish said around a full mouth.
“What is it dear?” Lee seemed worried.
“What are these?” Tish asked holding the half she hadn’t bit off. The entire tray was rimmed with them.
“Baklava,” April said, “but it looks like she gave us several kinds. Some are made with pistachios, some with walnuts, and these little cups look like they’re maybe almonds.”
“There are Greek and Persian kinds,” Jeff said. “Probably others. They use different spices. The Greek Isle Bakery in Armstrong must sell a dozen kinds.”
Tish finished hers, licked her fingers, and looked like she was having a hard time deciding which kind to try next.
“Nobody ever told us such a thing exists.” It seemed an accusation.
“Badgers like sweet stuff,” Lee said in a huge understatement.
“This is all expensive stuff, labor intensive,” Jeff explained. “It usually requires a big population making good money before an area can support markets or restaurants with these kinds of ethnic treats. If they have a good pastry chef here now you should ask if she can make you some strudels or fancy cakes for you.”
“Oh, I will, I will,” Lee vowed.
Tish had another in hand but delayed to ask Trix what he thought.
He held up a sticky digit, unwilling to rush the experience so she went ahead.
Trix replied in his own sweet time.
“I think we should do whatever necessary to learn the art of these and introduce them to Far Away. Grandfather can set a shop up in town and share the fortune these will make. That can start to repay him for all the extraordinary kindness he showed us. He owed basic hospitality but he made us comfortable.”
“Fine, it’s a plan, but what do you think of them?” Tish insisted.
“I see four kinds and I think I must limit myself to one of each or I will binge on them until I am sick.”
“I think he means he likes them,” Lee interpreted.
Tish just nodded, her mouth full again.
“Watch out he doesn’t try to steal your pastry chef away before you get a decent chance to enjoy her,” Jeff warned.
“That reminds me of a funny story about when we first started the cabbage mines at Central,” April said.
The Badgers nodded, eager to hear but busy chewing.
A couple of hours later Lee had a much better sense of what the triad were and how they arrived at their power than she had before. April and Jeff kept prompting each other, one memory triggering another, laughing at remembrances. Their old habit of deflection and avoidance was abandoned. They answered questions freely Even embarrassing questions about failures and missed opportunities.
Jeff and April’s internal clock finally caught up to Derfhome time and they were ready for a late dinner. Lee was far more than ready Tish looked repelled at the idea. A huge swath of the pastry tray was bare in front of her. She made a negating gesture and invited them to proceed without her before excusing herself to waddle off to bed. Trix was visibly conflicted but decided it was his duty to escort her back to their suite.
Improvements coming
This site is going to get a face-lift and hopefully better functionality. Working on it happening.I’ll add a newsletter also which will not always be on topic about my books. I’d like to share some experiences and observations.
Unedited snippet of “I Never Applied for This Job”
The two trucks nearest the exit doors appeared to be done as Alonso had been told. There were man carts and tool boxes pulled back by the walls away from them. A couple of workers were doing something but not on the trucks themselves. Lee and her Badgers went to the one Alonso was inspecting and greeted him. Compared to the Twool the trucks were huge and not at all sleek. They still had handsome lines as Lee expected of Alonso.
“It’s big!” Trix said stating the obvious.
“Will it fit in the big cargo hold in the Silk Road?” Tish asked.
“Now really, do you think we’re like the guy who built a big boat in his basement with no way to get it out?” Alonso asked.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you.”
Alonso opened the door and the young Badgers climbed in exploring.
“Will it fit?” Lee asked privately through her spex.
“Damned if I know,” Alonso replied. “You never specified a maximum height and I never thought to ask how you’d transport it. I wasn’t about to admit that to her.”
“I’m asking crew to measure it right now,” Lee said. “I think that’s faster than asking for the design files to be searched.”
“Ask Tom,” Alonso suggested. “I bet he answers faster than they can find a tape measure and run down to the hold.”
Lee was surprised but sent Tom a text.
“Done. Do you use him like that?” Lee asked.
“Sure, if I want to know…”
“Mistress, exactly four meters high in the middle section and five point nine meters wide centered, because there is a half meter radius at each corner for stress relief.”
“Thanks Tom,” Lee sent the text to Alonso.
“Lots of room,” Alonso assured her. “Almost a meter for the cab height and a bit more clearance on the width. But if you want the base camp or big box accessory along, you’ll have to load it separately.”
“We have a crane for that,” Lee said. “No problem. Though the next ship will have a hatch to clear them mounted now that I know. It’s going to be a copy of the Silk Road but we can make changes. We’ll make the lower hold taller.”
“You could just drag it along in your field, like you do ships,” Alonso suggested.
“That’s not a half bad idea,” Lee admitted.
“Alonso,” Tish called from the cab. “How do you get the sun roof open?”
“With great difficulty since it doesn’t have one.”
“Then what’s this?” Tish asked pointing up.
Lee wondered too and stepped closer to look up. She recognized it immediately.
“Honey, that’s the inside of a mating flange for an airlock,” Lee told her.
“Oh, glittery. You can go to your ship or one of the space stations just like we did in the Twool,” Tish said.
Lee looked a question at Alonso and got a single small nod.
“That’s right but I’m not up to that today,” Lee warned her. “I haven’t been all the way through the simulator orientation yet.”
“You could have Tom fly it for you, couldn’t you?” Tish suggested
“He’s not installed in it and we haven’t finished talking about cloning
him,” Lee said. “There are still some details to agree on.”
“He could fly it remotely, couldn’t he?” Trix said.
“Probably,” Alonso agreed, “but I won’t trust my life to a remote operator, man or machine, when you are working through enough distance to have considerable lag. Especially if you don’t control all the routing. The network may change that lag in the middle of something critical like docking. But I can give us a little manual ride. All we’ll do today is taxi over to my shop, test rotation in all axis, and climb to five meters and back. Then I’m going to go over it in detail before pushing it and trying a load.”
“That’s all?” Tish said disappointed.
“You don’t take a new aircraft and test it to the edge of its envelope the first flight,” Alonso told her. “I’d rather fall from five meters than five thousand.”
“Oh, OK,” Tish said.
“A new policy?” Lee asked through her spex. When they test flew the Twool together they thoroughly wrung it out.
“New policy when we have youngsters aboard,” Alonso sent back. “Beside that, I built the Twool. I knew every connector and screw in her was done right.”
“Good thing I haven’t told them about testing the Twool,” Lee said.
“Keep that story for when they are forty or fifty,” Alonso said.
“That works,” Lee agreed. “Trouble is Tish has already seen Gordon fight his ship. That story will pale beside what she’s already experienced. When we get back to your shop come with us and we’ll get them some lunch,” Lee said. “Food always distracts them.”
“It does that for me too,” Alonso admitted. “Lunch sounds good.”
Alonso liked to project all hard and grumpy, but Lee was pleased how much he cared for her Badgers.
“Ma’am, the hold hatch opens to four meters vertically,” her crew reported.
A Kindle Deal for December
Family Law is $2.49 in the US and Canada for Dec.
Unedited snippet of Family Law 8
“Mistress, we have another courier from a service with a card for you.”
The front desk man didn’t sound happy. The last courier she received ended up leaving on a gurney after making a mess on her best rug, leaving bullet pock marks on the walls, and disrupting the kitchen service. Lee wouldn’t blame them if they found having her as resident was losing its luster.
“I’ll have my security meet me down there to receive his message,” Lee told him, terminated that call and made another to arrange it.
“Strangelove, do you have a man near the hotel? I have a courier with a message at the front desk. After the last one I’m not inviting him up to my suite. I’d like some security presence to receive his card.”
“Well, gods be kind to me for once. I’m thankful you stopped doing that. I always have a man there and he’ll pull in a hotel security man to help. They’ll be there by the time you can ride down.”
“Thanks Strangelove. I’ll be armed too.”
“Of course!” Strangelove replied gruffly.
When Lee exited her elevator, the courier was still at the check-in desk but turned to face the elevators. Strangelove’s man was beside him and just a step back. He was about as big as male Derf get and had a possessive arm draped across the poor fellow’s shoulders. His hand was laid lightly over his shoulder but was it was the size of a dinner plate. The hotel’s security ‘man’ looked to be a petite female to Lee’s eye. She had an almost black coat of short fur and was about two thirds the size of Strangelove’s man. She had a security wand and sensor suite in hand, apparently used already.
Lee stopped short, slightly out of arm’s reach.
“I’m Lee Anderson,” she informed him. “From whom do you have a message?”
“Ma’am,” he said with a diffident nod. “This is from Kir Ambassador.” He offered the envelope cautiously, two handed. “I can return your answer.”
“Allow me,” the hotel security said and plucked it out of his hands. She felt it carefully with her true hands for lumps or wires and looked mildly surprised.
“It’s scented,” she said. “Something strong and unfamiliar.” She held it away from her body and slit it open with a claw. Satisfied there was nothing inside but a card, she handed it to Lee.
The scent was spicy. It reminded Lee of cloves but with a touch of something hotter. The card itself was a single sheet, not a fold over, and embossed with a botanical design around the edges. Perhaps that plant pictured was the source of the scent? The message was printed in English using a green ink that matched the decoration.
Kir Ambassador invites your presence to celebrate the completion of her embassy residence and the arrival of my personal furnishings and supplies from home so I may entertain guests in comfort. Three days hence on the fifth day of the Derf month on the day Humans style as Wednesday in the local rotation. From the fourteenth hour until dawn of the next day.
“Inform Kir Ambassador I’ll be delighted to attend,” Lee said. The poor courier was worried by this heavy security so she tipped him one of the new one-gram gold coins she was having made instead of a dollar Ceres. “Excuse our caution. A previous courier turned out to be a would-be assassin.”
The courier’s expression changed from concerned to a totally unexpected fierce look.
“Please tell me that story had a happy ending,” he said through bared teeth.
Lee laughed. “I’ve never heard it put quite that way, but yes it ended well, for us.”
“Good. That sort makes it tough for people who just want to make an honest living.”
“What is your name?” the female security asked. “If you come again tell the desk your name and we’ll have a gentler response.”
“Allen, ma’am. Working for Fast Runners. And thank you for the tip,” he directed to Lee, excusing himself.
“There’s more to that one than meets the eye,” the hotel security lady said. “I might recruit him after a little investigation. We’re short on Humans.”
“Indeed,” Strangelove’s soldier said, “but I suspect you’ll find he has been out on the point of the spear and happy to be done with it.”
“That’d reading a lot of depth to it,” she said.
“No. He’s right,” Lee said.
When both of them looked surprised at the firmness of her conviction, she explained.
“I’ve been taking lessons.”
Some problems
Sunday morning woke up to a swollen hand on arm that had surgery. Went to ER and I have a blood clot in my arm. So, I’m on blood thinners to dissolve it.
Appreciate your support and kind words.
Some of my reviews are over the top. I’m no genius. Some of the people I know are much smarter than me. I’m an old blue collar worker and mid-wit who likes to spin stories. I thank everyone for reading them. I’m amazed this last book has sold very well in non-English speaking countries. Mexico and India where before I might have zero sales any one month. Japan is paying me over $500 this month.
On the 20th of this month (Sept.) I’ll have my second shoulder replacement. It will be nice to be able to do things like replace a smoke alarm battery or a shower curtain. The pain level will go down too.
Family Law #8 is past 17k words and other stories advanced a little.
Thanks guys. – Mac’
I messed up… April 6
A couple of weeks ago Amazon had me correct some typos in “And What Goes Around”. After I uploaded the corrections I apparently failed to hit publish at the end of the third page. Thus several people told me the book was not available for sale in the US and Canada. It showed as live but wasn’t. I believe it is corrected now. – Mac’
Snippet F.L. 8
Yeah I know… But this popped into my head and I’ll embed it somewhere in the book when I come back to it.
“Would you like me to build you a garbage truck too?” Alfonso asked with a sneer.
“Don’t go all elitist on me,” Lee said. “You won’t crack smart on garbage trucks if nobody picks up your trash for a couple of months and you need to use your precious time to dispose of it. I’m sure you heard perfectly well that I asked you to design a truck not build one. I know you like building fancy toys that show off your skills. I don’t know anybody else I can trust to do this competently, much less artistically. I know you’ll make it pretty as well as functional because you can’t help yourself. That’s fine but it’s important it be trustworthy and safe for my people. I’m prepared to reward you handsomely to do this for me.”
“I’ve learned to control my acquisitive nature,” Alfonso said. “People who are never satisfied are never happy. You did manage to tempt me by letting me build myself a copy of your new aircar. I had no prospects of ever affording such a luxury from building sports planes. I’ve increased my prices on those as much as the market will bear, but they’d never pay me that well.”
“I’m not so sure,” Lee said. “All the influx of rich people from Home have really driven prices up. Haven’t you gotten any work from them?”
“A couple of contracts after our aircars are done,” Alfonso said with a dismissive wave.
“You put escalator clauses on those linked to inflation I hope?”
“I said I wasn’t greedy. That doesn’t mean I’m stupid. But as much as I appreciate your custom, and the side gig we’re setting up, I’m not keen to sit on my butt and design stuff I’ll never get to build. Life is too short to do stuff that isn’t fun,” Alfonso said.
“Exactly!” Lee agreed.
Alfonso blinked a couple of times and obviously couldn’t parse that any way that she wasn’t contradicting herself.
“I’m offering more life, all out of proportion to the little bit of it I’m asking you to use. They are within a couple of months of offering basic life extension therapy for Derf. It’s in testing for any untoward reactions right now. It will be expensive until it is much more common and available from several sources. I’ll buy you the premium version – a lifetime subscription for future versions and add-ons. Tell me that isn’t a deal,” Lee challenged him.
Alfonso sighed. “I should just refuse to talk to you if I don’t want to get sucked into whatever you want. If I agree to listen, I might as well just ask what you want, and be resigned to accommodating you from the start.”
“You just don’t want anyone to doubt your independence,” Lee said. “You value that part of your reputation as much as being known for quality. I’m not going to damage that. I’ll be careful to structure our contracts so nobody knows exactly how much I’m paying you. Payment in kind makes it easier. I want you to be happy to work for me.”
Alfonso looked sour. “Happy is asking a lot. People think you’re a fool if you are all mindlessly chipper and cheerful all the time.”
“I hear what you’re saying. Some people would think you aren’t serious. Not me. You can still play curmudgeon with your public if you want and grin on the inside.”
“I suppose,” Alfonso allowed. “Tell me how they determine it’s safe. I’ve no desire to think I bought extra years and then discover it kills you early instead. I’m sure they would be very apologetic if that happened, and maybe pay a fine, but that would mean more to my heirs than me.”
“Keep this to yourself. I’m not sure Dr. Ames wants it talked around. He did the same with humans. He found Derf with a terminal disease and offered them a large cash payment for trying out particular gene mods. They have near nothing to lose and a lot of them do have family they would like to leave better off financially.”
“That makes perfect sense to me,” Alfonso said. “Why would you need to keep that quiet?”
“People can be strange,” Lee said. “He was sure some would feel he was taking advantage of their situation.”
“Well, he is, but not to their harm.”
“I agree. Some people got the false idea life extension is rejuvenation, and if you had a nasty cancer or something like an aneurysm it would treat it. It doesn’t work that way. The metabolic and immunological pathways are so similar in Humans and Derf we’re confident we won’t have any of the gross errors they made in early human LET. Dr. Ames has always been insistent that he won’t install a gene mode for which he doesn’t have an undo.”
Ah, he does sound sufficiently cautious,” Alfonso allowed. He stopped short of saying yes. Lee just sat silent and let him stew on it. She’d sold it all she was going to.
When the pause grew uncomfortable Alfonso started fidgeting with his hands.
“If I’m going to the trouble to design this truck we might as well license the design for anyone else who wants one, and pick up a little coin,” he suggested.
Lee took that for a yes.
“I don’t need an exclusive on it,” Lee agreed. “I would like at least one more copy to take to a supporter on Providence. How about if we have the same folks building the aircars to your design make the trucks?”
“They would probably need a new dedicated building,” Alfonso said. “I’ve been there and they are tight for space already.”
“Then we should build them new place and move the truck production to the old building,” Lee said. “If I have to finance the building and equipment, I want the same deal as the aircars. You get a straight ten percent add on fee.”
Alonso blinked.
“I’ve already agreed to design it. A per vehicle fee add-on is just found money for me.”
“You’re right, and you really aren’t greedy,” Lee said. She offered her hand to swipe.
“Done,” Alonso agreed and brushed her palm.
A Reluctant Sovereign – published tomorrow
I’ll put it up tonight but it takes some time to propagate through their system. Here’s the cover.
Can’t get link to work. Sorry.
Snippet of Fair Trade sequel
“Does anybody want to chat with me?” Jed asked the assembled Tigers. He hoped some of the snarky flavor of the invitation was retained in translation. The Tiger had overnight to think on how to deal with him. Maybe they learned something.
One of the Tigers stepped forward. He didn’t kneel in submission but he lowered himself with all his legs tucked in close, sphinx like. It wasn’t submission but it sent the message he wasn’t poised to attack.
“We lack understanding of your kind. Going through the translator makes it worse. We know few of his words and he knows few of our words. We do not know who is dominant between your kinds. We have no reason to trust his translation. He claims to fear you and yet he’s still here. Are the People now your slaves?”
“They are not. You had plenty of time and opportunity to learn their language. You were too arrogant to think you’d ever need to know it. You can explain arrogant if you try,” Jed said to the dismayed translator. “Try valued yourselves too high or other variations.”
“If you don’t like speaking through him, I will assign you a human to teach you English. It’s the dominant language of transportation and business on our world. When the People found our world, it was the obvious choice to learn.”
“He asks why you have more than one language and how many you use? I confessed I have no knowledge of that.” He didn’t ask his assigned assistant.
“We have hundreds. Every independent country has at least one. Some have several they acquired over the centuries as they were conquered by successive invaders. Some countries conquered an area and their language and a few customs were the only things they left behind by the time they in turn failed or were conquered. We humans don’t especially like each other and tend to retain our identity over generations and kill outsiders. The last couple of wars we had killed millions and ravaged continents. We’ve been reluctant to repeat that now that a single weapon shot can destroy large cities. We may be mean but we’re not suicidal.”
They talked with the translator a long time before getting back to Jed.
“They doubt your statement about the power of your weapons,” the translator said.
“They will find the demonstration of it convincing if they want to do it the hard way. It’s amusing if they think I need to lie to the likes of them. Do they demean themselves to tell their prey and slaves falsehoods?”
“Are you sane by the standards of your species?” the translator eventually asked.
“We have no agreed standard that holds from one group to another,” Jed said. “Nor does it matter. You have to deal with me or risk how sane the next human you deal with will be. You are going to deal with humans now that we know you exist.”
“Why do you call us Tigers?” Which seemed to be off on a tangent and the translator again ignored his Earth trained counterpart.
“The People who found us called you Tigers in English. Looking at our videos it was the most frightening Earth predator they saw. Here, we brought a fractional data base of Earth knowledge. I’ll show you the creature.”
The pictures of a tiger taking down game got a murmur of appreciation from the crowd. The last shot was of a tiger holding a gazelle by the throat. The photographer zoomed in until all that was visible was the tiger’s frightening eyes, staring at the cinematographer over its bloody muzzle. It was obvious it knew it was being watched.
“They are amazed humans survive on a world with such predators.”
Jed laughed. “Once we invented the pointy stick it was all over for them. They only survive because we’ve set aside territory where they are protected from humans by other humans. They are beautiful and a living history worth preserving. Here, let me show them something else.”
The next video showed children with ice cream cones peering through the bars of a tiger enclosure at a zoo. The next, a circus act where the tamer snapped his whip at a tiger and made it jump through hoops and do tricks. Another still picture showed an ancient Asian man with a weathered face and bright tribal dress leaning on a steel headed spear. A tiger skin robe was draped over his shoulders. The last showed two older gentlemen with brandy snuffers relaxing in a dark paneled English club. Between them and a lit fireplace was an enormous tiger skin rug. The captives were silent at that.
“There are other predators on our planet,” Jed said. “I’ve never seen a wild tiger but where I used to live these are fairly common.”
Jed showed a picture of a hunter posed with a Kodiak bear. The bear’s paw was as big as a serving platter with its claws displayed. The hunter was posed squatting in front of it with a compound bow and several broadhead arrows clamped on a rack so the nature of the weapon was obvious.
“They hold a lottery every year for the privilege of hunting a few,” Jed said. “They control how many can be taken and charge a huge fee so they aren’t made extinct.”
“That’s a muscle powered weapon that throws one of those pointy shafts?” the translator asked Jed.
“Yes, a bow and arrow, but the Tigers didn’t say anything. Are you a mind reader now?”
“I was asking for myself,” he admitted. “Why hunt such a monster with that weapon when I know you have vastly superior?”
“What would be the sport in that?” Jed asked.
The Tiger demanded to know what they were saying. It took a while including extra consultation with the Earth trained subordinate.
“Oddly enough, I don’t understand your last comment at all but the Tigers assured me they do, after I read enough synonyms from our dictionary. They ask if that’s what you would reduce them to, hunting stock?”
“I’d be delighted if I succeeded in preserving them as a species and the cost of it was only a few Tigers and humans hunting each other in the wild. I’m hoping to find terms to do that so others of my species don’t decide they are too much trouble and expense to preserve. The short sighted may decide it makes better sense to burn their worlds bare and exterminate them. I’m a preservationist by philosophy.”
“They are upset you portray yourself as their ally in survival they did not chose. They accuse you enjoyed abusing the medic and want you to know they had to amputate his ruined tail.”
“Oh, boo-hoo. It got their attention. They simply don’t listen without being forced to. They may have never needed allies before. Still, they are awfully damned slow to adapt to a change in necessity. See if you can teach them friends or advocates. Make clear I don’t like them, but they better learn to take any sort of friends where they can find them. They aren’t terribly likable.
“I happen to feel on principle that you don’t destroy what you can never bring back. Plenty of my fellow humans would kill all those tigers or bear I showed without a second thought. I’d find it a loss to walk through the woods and never wonder if one was around the next tree.” Jed smiled. “It adds a delicious uncertainty to your stroll.”
The translator looked at him in horror.
“I think you humans are all insane and it just varies by intensity. The People very, very rarely have those who are addicted to risk because their fear hormones act like a drug. Perhaps you aren’t self-aware of that happening.”
“Oh no. Lots of adrenaline junkies are self-aware,” Jed assured him. “They tend to escalate continually trying to get a bigger thrill. Of course, they die young and spectacularly, but what a ride they enjoy while they are alive!”
The translator just shuddered. That needed no explanation.
“I’m tired of talking today,” Jed decided. “Tell them to decide if they want English instruction. I’ll be back when I can stomach looking at them again.”
He walked out while that was being told and before they could ask more.
Another possible story opening:
Jack’s butt was numb. He stretched and leaned, lifting each cheek without getting up. He felt his coffee cup. It was dead cold. Sixty-eight was too damn old to be putting in ten-hour days, but he was glad of the work. The Second and Greater Depression had wiped out his retirement accounts, even before the previous administration had seized them, or taken them into protective custody to hear them tell it. They were saved in Federal Reserve dollar denominated bonds, so if he cashed them out, they’d only be a tenth of the value in the new United States Greenbacks.
He’d retired briefly, but had to come back to work again if he didn’t accept the settlement on his accounts. He had more in mind thirty hours a week or so, but they seemed to find a lot more for him to do than he’d expected. If he got too busy and unhappy, he realized there were lots of others who would be outright envious of his ability to go back to work.
He’d really have been up the creek if his wife’s life insurance had not been ruled payable at full value in the new notes. He was holding out on taking a settlement, hoping some of the court cases would favor a full payout of his retirement accounts in the new money. A lot of people had signed off on the switch, needing funds to live right now, and accepting a dime on a dollar. He had a little nest egg due to the insurance money, but was very conservative about spending it, after seeing how easily he’d been stripped of almost everything before.
Guys his age usually had trouble finding work, but his age was a benefit with this struggling niche plastics company. His experience with their obsolete computer and older AutoCAD software, let them suck a little more use out of it. The youngsters who came by his cube looked in horror at the six-year-old box. It might be obsolete, but it could easily handle files for the relatively simple plastic parts they were contracted to tool and produce.
If you wanted five million cheap, crappy parts with flash and uncertain material specs, the job was going to Malaysia or Vietnam. If you needed five hundred parts in virgin material, and really needed the dimensions to resemble spec, then Midwestern Molding was the company to shoot your job.
He’d have been delighted to have this computer and its huge high-definition screen twenty years ago. He started out years ago with NASA on a machine that you could instruct to do an operation, like rotate a part, go use the bathroom, refresh your coffee, say hello to your work mates in the coffee room, and still be back at your desk before it was done.
There were five job files waiting for him. None was labeled hot by some miracle, so he skipped down to the third. That file was smaller, perhaps he could finish it off by the end of tomorrow, and have a clean wrap-up for the weekend.
The screen showed a standard three view line drawing print with details, and a 3D rendering rotating in separate window. Jack couldn’t help the big smile that came to his face. It was a long time ago, but you don’t forget a part once you’ve gotten every detail about it in your mind, and designed a tool to make it. He’d worked with this part when he was at NASA. It was a space suit visor.
He looked at the revisions list, and was unsurprised to see it called out a different material. They’d done a lot with plastics since he was a green NASA nerd. The material it called for was stronger and more heat resistant than the original Lexan. The revisions included anti-reflective coating and sapphire on the inside but deep bonded diamond film on the outside. That was a whole new technology they hadn’t dreamed of back then. The gold film was deleted so they must be using separate flip down sun filters and shades.
The seal groove was modified. Likely the seal was new up-to-date material too. There was still room for ejector pins outside the seal groove so this tool as going to practically design itself since he’d done one before. It needed a lot of diamond polishing on the mold to produce the clean optical surfaces. That wasn’t going to be cheap. It was still a highly skilled hand craft, that a robot couldn’t do.
Jack looked at the corner to see who was having it made. Tangent Fabrication. He’d never heard of them but he’d been out of the aerospace game for years. Then his eye caught the part name: Face Shield / Motorcycle Helmet.
“Bullshit!” he said out loud. Then he looked over his shoulders. Sudden paranoia made him want to keep this to himself until he understood why. No way in hell was this for a motorcycle helmet, so what did it mean? Why would anyone make an obsolete space suit part, and lie about what it was?
Jack was so agitated he had to get up – taking his coffee mug and going for a fresh one. The little bit of coffee left was old and burnt. If he made a new pot at 3:30 people would complain about the waste. The price of coffee was out of sight. He just rinsed the mug out and got water from the cooler.
By the time he walked back and sat at his station he was calm again. It was even starting to make a little sense to him. If you needed space suits quickly on the cheap, most NASA research and data was in the public domain. The basic design was pretty good, not like the first suit they used for Mercury which was basically a high-altitude aircraft suit. It was far better than the Apollo suits or even the very early Shuttle suits. Modernize the materials and the basic design was damn decent. But who the hell needed space suits, and wanted to keep it secret?
He wrote down Tangent Fabrication, the address, and print number on a Post-it note. He considered putting the CAD file on his key ring drive and decided against it. He wasn’t sure the network administrator wouldn’t see the download. They didn’t run a high security shop. Most of their work was appliance parts and high-end toys. Anybody could reverse engineer them by buying the product and measuring it. But they might be watching his activity to keep track of his productivity.
He had a funny feeling about this. It failed the sniff test and he intended to find out why. In fact, he had a vacation penciled in for next month. It would be worth missing a little fishing time to see what Tangent Fabrication looked like. It was north of Sacramento, along the route he’d be going anyway. He wrote down the revisions on the Post-it and put it in his wallet. Then he pulled a standard base out of the D-M-E catalog and started designing the tool. This was the most interesting thing that had happened to him in years. In that way it wasn’t entirely unwelcome.
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