A little snippet / mostly done / I’m fine.

In reverse order: Some folks got worried since I don’t communicate frequently. I understand. I’m 74 and the COVID virus is particularly hard on old people. I’m also fat but I have none of the co-morbidities associated with that. My blood sugar is normal and blood pressure under good control. Our county was hard hit as all of them were neighboring Detroit. Now however while the chart for Oakland county shows a Delta surge the graph of deaths is flat and declining. Being an antisocial curmudgeon is beneficial for exposure. So many are upset they can’t jam in sporting events or airliners – while they’d have to pay me to do so.

The invasion book is at 200k words + and mostly done. It’s been fun and I’ll go back and finish the next April book next. It may be the last or next to last bridging to the Family Law books. I’ll probably take some time to create more paper editions after that. I can do it now but it was a huge deal to learn how to satisfy Amazon’s demands – especially on covers.

Here’s a little snippet.

“What is it? I’m in conference with the scholar,” Three Fingers said irritated.

“Your pardon, sir. This is the scholar’s assistant. We are still on limited emissions and he neglected to plug in his communicator. We have news we thought he should have that he’d want to tell you.”

“Well, out with it then man,” Three Fingers encouraged.

“The sensor module you had parked on the backside of the big moon has detected emissions. It isn’t anything from out-system. The natives have several devices returning video and data from the next planet in the system.”

“Next in or out?” Three Fingers demanded. “I thought there was no other radio noise?”

“Out. It is smaller, red in appearance, has very little atmosphere, and with no active magnetic field. A very inhospitable chill desert planet. The video it shows is being sent from vehicles but there is no speech being transmitted or any indication it is manned. In each case, it seems to be showing the area around a wheeled vehicle, and the tracks it made to get there are sometimes visible. They seem to be robotic devices,” the underling speculated. “We missed them at first because the power level being used is very low for planetary distances. What the interest could be in such a desolate rock is beyond me.”

“Thank you, Beelus. We’ll tap the feed if we want to see more,” the scholar said, dismissing him.

The man didn’t immediately leave.

“There is news about the other devices recovered if you want to hear it.”

“Certainly, go ahead,” Three Fingers invited.

“The large flat device that was attached to the computer turns out to be a very specialized antenna. We know how to make them but they are only used for long range radar installations at a fixed ground site. Those are purpose-built, but the technicians insist this has all the hallmarks of a mass-produced consumer product like a music player. It has several very high-density semiconductor devices we don’t understand, and contains tiny servo motors to aim it.”

“To aim it at what?” Three Fingers asked pointedly.

“It was in an open area pointed at the sky. There is very little air traffic in that remote area of their planet for it to connect to aircraft. The only theory advanced by one person was that it tracks and communicates with satellites, but nobody else agrees. They are all holding out for an alternative explanation. Oh, and the skinny pliers? They were shown to the head of maintenance without telling him their source. He tried them out bending some wire and removing some lock clips and declared them of very good quality. So good we had a hard time getting him to release them back to us.”

“Very close to our level of technology,” Three Fingers told his scholar.

“Yes, that is becoming disturbingly evident. I’ll have more to report soon, I’m sure.”

Another small invasion snippet

“Frankel, Loewry, and Goldberg. How may I help you?” The young woman’s voice was steady but her eyes reflected shock at seeing a dog faced alien against a strange background.

“Hello. My name is Blue, the same as your color. Be aware when you reply the response will be what you humans call laggy. We are out by your moon and it takes a few seconds for the signal to make the round trip. I am second in charge of this vessel and wish to speak to a senior partner of your firm about representing the crew of our ship to land and be granted favorable immigration status in the United States of America.” He had that written out and read it carefully.

“Mr. Loewry is on call right now,” the receptionist said. “I will request he speak with you.”

“Mr. L, I have a new client call on line 3,” Cheryl said. “I think you should replay my video before answering the, uh, gentleman.”

Cheryl watched Loewry replay the call and his face turned red as he got angry.

“Cheryl, we pay you to screen calls precisely because we don’t wish to speak to every nut case and fraudster who can look up our contact info. Those supposed aliens were in the news about a month ago. If they were real, they’d be holding news conferences on the Whitehouse lawn by now. They thoroughly discredited the crank astronomer who started this. For crying out loud, they are selling rubber masks of the ‘aliens’ already. The kids will be wearing them for Halloween. The stories all over the internet have them landing in Idaho to steal potatoes, taking people for joy rides and other utter foolishness. Just hang up on him. Don’t waste another word. And don’t bother me with other aliens of any flavor,” Loewry instructed her.

Blue couldn’t hear Loewry’s response. Cheryl simply looked distressed and the screen went blank.

“Communications failed?” Blue asked.

“Nahhh, she hung up on you,” Jed said. “Her boss probably made her.”

“Hung up is terminated?” Blue asked.

“Yeah, that’s an old expression from when the handset for a voice only phone actually terminated the call by being replaced on the instrument.”

“What shall I do?” Blue wondered.

“Life is too short to try to fix stupid,” Jed advised him. “There’s too much of it in the world. That’s why I gave you four firms to call. I thought one or more might turn the work down.”

“What is the word for that particular kind of bad behavior? Blue asked. “She did not treat me correctly. Am I wrong?”

“No, she was what we call rude. Don’t hold it against her. I’m sure she wouldn’t have done that on her own authority. Her boss undoubtedly ordered it.”

Micro-snippet of alien ‘invasion’ story in progress.

“Did you get some response?” The NASA director asked his Space Force peer.

“Yes, we passed by fairly close, a hundred and fifty kilometers away. We wanted to make sure it was obvious it wasn’t a direct line approach like a weapon strike. We had time to repeat a long string of math at them several times. The package our people put together started with prime numbers as a universal common point and got progressively more complex. The hope was after establishing that as a common ground, we could in the future build language from the operations such as addition and subtraction leading to plus and minus, more and less, greater than and less than.”

“Did they respond with strings of numbers that showed they understood?” Durkin asked.

“Not exactly,” Gott said. “Here, I’ll let you listen to their brief response.”

The voice was odd but perfectly understandable English.

“Yes, yes, we count too. Please be patient. Your call is important to us.”

“They put us on hold?”

“Hey,” Durkin said, trying to put a positive spin on it, “at least we didn’t have to work down a message tree to get that.”

April – hardcover

I just published the first hardcover version of one of my books. April was just able to squeak under the 550 page limit Amazon set on their new in-house publishing service. It was a challenge getting the cover accepted as it needs wrap to go around the boards. It’s a case bound book with no dust jacket – the cover design is right on the wrap. I went matte finish as I always thought glossy looked cheap. I hope this helps those who have a hard time reading off a monitor. My others will follow as I am able.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1970096063

What’s happening…

Work continues on April 13, and a stand alone ‘Invasion’ book. I have not started on Family Law 7 but have some ideas. I’m itching to describe Central’s explorations and planets.
I tried having third parties format my books for paper at great expense and little satisfaction. I’ve now learned enough that I reformatted “April” with the latest file that has many fewer errors and typos. I did not list it as a second edition because the story line is unchanged. I sold very few paper copies so it isn’t a money maker. It’s more a service for collectors and those who have trouble reading off a screen. I also increased the price a couple of dollars to $18.99 because it was a LOT of work and the product is better and worth more now. I was only making about $2 off a print “April” and am still making about the same as a kindle sales now.
About readability… I’m experimenting with producing a LARGE PRINT edition of April. It’s such a large book that in a 6″ x 9″ book it would go over 1,000 pages. That’s not exactly the sort of book you can hold in your lap and read comfortably. I may go big – 8.5 x 11 or even split it into two books and sell them as a set.
Now that I have the (mostly mental) tools to publish paper I expect to have paperbacks of all my books. I also expect to have hardback books, but not the fabric covered publishing house versions with dust jackets. They will be the hard cover with the cover design printed directly on the end boards.
I don’t intend to stop writing to do the formatting. I will switch back and forth to make the work load easier. The same way as I work on two or more books so I can get a mental break by switching.
I also have a wife and a life I am not willing to ignore. My wife is taking Fridays off all summer and yesterday we used the first of these to take a long ride out i the country. We saw sandhill cranes, wild turkey, and a black bear. I’ll be 74 next month and intend to do this as long as I can.

Book finalist for award.

Who Can Own the Stars? is a finalist for the Prometheus Award.
Can’t make link active – sorry.
http://www.lfs.org/releases.shtml

New book published.

Decided to go with “Another Word for Magic”.
Just uploaded it to Amazon. Sorry – can’t make link work. Cut and paste please.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0917X4YTW

Another Name for Magic

Should be published in the next day or two. Errors are pretty much done and just waiting on a cover.

April #5 and #8 re-edited

A Depth of Understanding – and – It’s Always Something.
I just uploaded #8 at 10am 3/22 so it will take a little time to propagate in their system.
They both should have improved spelling and grammar for those who get jolted out of the story by errors.

Family Law 6 to beta

The title is “Another Word for Magic”
I thought I had another reader promised and can’t find my note.
If you have skills and experience and I’ve missed you volunteering drop me a note at mchandler@ameritech.net
The mackeychandler.com comments address here is useless – full of spam ans a horrible interface. It’s hard to even delete messages. I’d turn it off if I knew how.
CLOSING IT NOW

Family Law 6 – a tiny snippet

“Oh, my goodness.”

“Sam, I hate it when you say something like that out loud and then expect me to beg to know what has you upset. Can’t you just go ahead and tell me?” Bill asked.

“I’m sorry. Lee stayed at the hanger rather long. I expected her to head home. She waited to leave until a couple of Red Tree soldiers showed up in full gear. They had duffels and some equipment cases like they aren’t just paying a visit and they appear to be putting cameras and sensors out.”

“You probably precipitated that,” Bill King speculated.

“Then why not right after my visit?” Sam asked.

“Fair point. But maybe they would have been lax without anybody nosing around. The way you described it the aircar was just a shell at that point. You said it was up on stands. I bet it didn’t have the pods mounted yet, did it?”

“No. I can’t say I ever saw them sitting around either,” Sam admitted.

“Well, in any case, now they have a functional vehicle, with whatever is in those pods to make it go,” Bill said. “You may assume the chassis you saw before is nothing special so it wasn’t worth guarding. Be happy you didn’t go snooping around and get caught by Red Tree’s Finest instead of an irate mechanic. I doubt they’d let you go as easily.”

“I can’t argue that. These boys looked hardcore. I’ve been trying to think how we could use this locally instead of reporting it home and everything I come up with is simply too dangerous.”

“Keep thinking that way. And warn me if you suddenly get crazy brave because I don’t want to be anywhere around when you start juggling this time bomb.”

“No, I won’t do anything stupid,” Sam promised. “It’s just frustrating. We’ve been here years and when we finally start getting some important intelligence everything has changed so it’s pretty much useless to us.”

About the CONTACT service here.

WordPress is not very user friendly in some ways. And I am no expert user.
I discovered after several people couldn’t contact me that I had a huge backlog of messages in my contact folder. Some quite old and several fairly important.
I set my email to forward posts from contact@mackeychandler.com and now found out it isn’t doing it… Doing web searches on the matter I find this is a common problem not easily fixed.I tried to set up a gmail account to forward them to since AT&T is a horror story to try to configure. The WP server won’t accept authentication from there…
WP uses PHP and I may have to go to SMTP to get the forwarding I want.
Please be aware making comments instead of using contact is much better.
Last night I sat and deleted HUNDREDS of contact messages for sunglasses, Russian ladies seeking sexual partners, sure fire investment services…from the backlog. I responded to a few old messages but still have to go through several hundred not spam.
I apologize if anyone thought I was just ignoring them and indifferent.
So bear with me please people.

Family Law 6 snippet. Rough and unedited.

(I can’t get the last part to show paragraphs – sorry)

“I believe the English idiom for this is a dive,” Born said.

“The Badger expression translates barn but that doesn’t really convey the full feeling,” Musical said. “We have different words for different kinds of barns and that one is for a stinky animal barn.”

“Nick’s. A working Spacer and Beam Dog bar with traditional bar food,” Born read off the guide on his pad again. The door was steel faced with modest painted lettering on it the only signage and had no windows. It would have eased their minds to see inside. The place was on the half g level which was semi-industrial.

“We can always leave if it’s too pricey,” Musical said. “I had no idea we should bring snacks. One of the university cafeteria sandwiches sounds pretty good now, even a little stale.”

“Yeah, especially since I usually get to finish two-thirds of yours. Follow me,” Born said with sudden resolve.

The bar was so dark they had to stop and wait for their eyes to adjust or risk walking into things. The only thing he could really see was a massive table in the back with its own long light hung low over it. It had a translucent shade over it bright with art that Born would have never expected in such a place. The two Humans standing by that table with sticks looked at them and turned back to what they were doing indifferently.

Musical recovered first being able to see the long bar that had lights low behind it to allow the bartender to work. There were more bottles on tiers behind it than he’d ever seen in one place. The man was sitting on a stool not busy at all at the moment, regarding them with interest. He was dark enough to blend into the dark but had on a brilliant white apron. The light from below the bar made his face grotesque from the harsh shadows. Two other Humans were seated at the bar hunched over their drinks. Only five people were in a space that would hold fifty easily. Business must be as slow as the hotel. There was no music just an occasional tock, tock, tock, from the table in the back.

“Put your hand on my shoulder. I can see well enough to guide you. I see a little table by the wall where we’ll fit nicely. You can sit on the floor and the table will be plenty high for you.”

“I can see the outline of other tables now, I’m just not getting much color yet.” But he did let Musical guide him.

The bartender took his time coming over with a couple of single sheet menus.

“You guys speak Standard?” he inquired.

“No sir, English, Derf, and Badger,” Musical said.

The bartender gave a forced little laugh.

“Local hab idiom, I guess. Standard is English with a little Japanese and Spanish tossed in.” He paused like he was thinking about it. “A bit of Tongan and Yiddish too for that matter. We’re a real mix. If you hang around very long, we’ll probably steal Derf and Badger expressions from you without compensation.”

“Oh good. We’re both proficient in English, at least enough to deal with our English-speaking patron.”

“That’s interesting. You work for Humans?”

“Yes sir. We’re researchers for Lee Anderson, though she went back home to Derfhome. We’re here with April Lewis and Jeffery Singh. They have business to do and cut us loose to be tourists while waiting on them.”

“Homies,” he said. “I know of them. Seen both stand up in the Assembly and they show up in the gossip boards. You don’t have to sir me. Nick is fine.”

“Nick, we are finding everything expensive here. What do you suggest to fill my Derf friend here without busting our budget?” Musical asked.

Nick regarded Born’s size dubiously.

“A pitcher of beer should be a decent mug for him. Maybe four double burgers and I’ll throw in a big bowl of chili at the normal Human serving price.” He pointed to them on the menu and both managed not to whimper at the price. “You mind spicy stuff?” he asked Born. “The chili is kind of hot.”

“You are obviously unfamiliar with our Devil’s Horn peppers,” Born said smiling. “The recent influx of Humans from Home found them hot enough to seek medical attention.”

“I’ll have to get some of those,” Nick said interested. “They might make some of my usual customers shut up who always complain our chili is too mild.” To his credit, Nick wasn’t bothered by the smile.

“If one may inquire without offending, those usual customers seem to be absent,” Born said. “Your establishment seems sized for a larger clientele. We noticed the same thing where we secured a room for this evening. Is my assessment correct? Has this move to Fargone disrupted business?”

“You’re so carefully polite,” Nick said, amused. “Yes, business is shot to hell. The pilots and maintenance guys are all laid off until they get more work and afraid to spend much until they see what shakes out. Quite a few went over to the Fargone station to set up routes and businesses between the stations or find work there. Some of the beam dogs and fabricators are working so much overtime they barely have time to sleep much less come spend money here.”

Nick did an exaggerated shrug.

“Eventually they’ll all have either time or money again and the pent-up demand will be awesome. You don’t have to be so careful of my feelings. With all the careful precision and disclaimers, you sound like a college professor.”

When Born and Musical both broke up laughing Nick got the joke too, smiling.

“You are quite perceptive,” Musical said. “What you suggested for the professor here, but just a beer, a single burger, and a normal size bowl of chili for me.”

“Coming right up,” Nick said. He retreated to the bar so there must be a kitchen somewhere out of sight. But he saw to their beer himself.

Sure enough, a shorter man with different pigmentation but similar black hair came from the back with their food on a big oval tray.

“I don’t know what you guys can eat safely,” the cook said. “We don’t get much alien trade. I’ve never seen a Badger except on video. So, it’s on you to know if what you ordered up is safe.”

“We’re aware,” Musical assured him. “My friend here can eat things you can’t. I can handle everything here.”

“Jolly good,” the man said putting the plates before them. “This is all the condiments for the burgers if you want to experiment.” He set a separate tray down with onion, pickle, hot sauce, mustard, and ketchup.

The burgers were big enough to allow Born to take two bites. That pleased him because he’d had burgers back home that were a scant bite, that he could toss in his mouth whole. He loaded them up with everything.

“Will that hold you?” Musical asked when Born was on the last of his chili.

Born held a true hand spread out palm down and made a rocking motion. He’d picked that up from Lee.
“It’s not going to bust my belly but it will hold me. I could fast for a day after all. I just don’t want to.”

The same fellow from the kitchen came and removed their dishes. Nick looked across the room and made the gesture of lifting a mug.

“You want another beer? Musical asked Born.

“Why not? What else do we have to do? I want to make a circuit of the hab at the one g level and look at everything but how long can that take?”

Musical nodded yes, emphatically enough to be seen from the bar.

The door to the corridor opened and a young woman entered with her spex heavily darkened. As soon as the door closed behind her she set them clear. Musical noted that to copy if they ever came back. She still was a little blind or maybe just cautious assessing the place. She had on the bright clothing and heavier shoes of a Fargoer. Even a badger noted she was dressed differently though. He thought she had to be cold showing that much skin with no fur. She had on shocking-fuchsia velvet shorts that couldn’t be any shorter and still meet in the middle. Her shoes were a bright pink that didn’t match at all and her sleeveless rose top ended so short there was a large gap to the top of her shorts.

Musical looked over at Nick the bartender and his mouth was hanging open and his eyes were wide. He took that as a look of surprise in Humans.

Now that her eyes adjusted, she saw Born and Musical in the shadows. The >Squeeee< shriek she emitted was so piercing one of the pool players jerked and knocked the cue ball clear off of the table. She started babbling to somebody obviously on her spex. All Musical really understood was “Oh my God, Oh my God." The door burst open behind her and four more young women in outrageous outfits entered, one in mincing little steps because she had on very strange shoes. Musical had never been exposed to glitter makeup, green or purple hair, leopard skin, stretch fabrics, or sequins, but even an alien knew this was something different. They all rushed over and surrounded Musical declaring him a real live Badger to each other. “Are you here for the Bode Benjamin show?” the pack leader asked. Musical was embarrassed to admit he wasn’t familiar with it and got glowing reports of how they never missed it and they’d had absolutely wonderful cute pix of Badger cubs when Lee and Gordon were on the show. Another group of Fargoers came in the door, this one appearing to be couples and one of the girls hopped up and down excitedly waving them over. A couple of the men staked out a table of their own. Musical found somebody was holding his left hand and when he looked back at Born a couple of the scantily clad ladies were sitting on each leg coaching him to put his lower arms around them and show lots of claw for pix. When Nick came with their beer he had to push and tell them to make way through the gathering crush. The noise level in the room was way up. “Bring these guys another round,” a girl in red leather leaning over Born’s shoulder called out before their glasses were even empty, “and some finger food for the table. Can you make a pitcher of peach margaritas?” she asked Nick. The kitchen guy went past carrying what Born recognized as pizza. Since the house didn’t have music, somebody set their pad on loud to provide it. Pretty soon a few of them were dancing to it drinks in hand. People were still showing up as their friends called them. The crowd sort of rotated to their table and away, everyone who wanted them getting pix, patting and stroking Musical, and prodding Born to fake ferocity. After three rounds of beer, much calamari, and chicken tenders they begged off that they had to go to their hotel. Born waved down Nick since Musical was invisible seated behind everybody standing. “We’re heading out,” Born said reaching across several people to offer his card. “Your money’s no good here,” Nick said shaking his head and refusing the card. “I don’t understand. It worked just fine at the hotel,” Born insisted. Nick looked at him like he was crazy, then grinned. "It’s just an expression. You don’t owe anything, ever. In fact, you’re welcome here any time. Look at all the business you suck in,” he said sweeping the place with his eyes because his hands were full carrying drinks. “Oh, thank you,” Born said and signaled Musical to go before he changed his mind. Everybody waved goodbye. When he explained the source of their good fortune and Nick’s invitation to return in the corridor, Musical said, “Now, if we could just figure out how to do that with the hotel.”

April 13 a snippet.

Most of my time is being spent on the next Family Law book. But when I need a break I work on April 13. I did this today As always rough and unedited.
…………………………..
“Come look. It’s doing it again,” Eileen said leaning over peering out the window.

“Let’s go outside,” Victor suggested. He put on his slippers and grabbed a pistol out of habit and caution. They hadn’t had any trouble at all. Late at night it was cool in Northern California but not cold. A jacket might be needed to sit for hours but not to see the lights in the sky. This was the third night the conflict between the Spacers and North America was visible. The first night was spectacular but it seemed to be winding down now.

None of this conflict seemed aimed at their area which was just fine with them. All of Southern California suffered from the bombardment of Vandenberg a couple of years ago. The delicate balance of services and legacy infrastructure that made the lower part of the state habitable had collapsed in a cascade from the point of that strike within three days. The rural northern part of the state still didn’t have electric power and existed in a political power vacuum but was habitable. If you had the skills and means it was possible to live much like people in the area had back at the start of the twentieth century.

The wrap around porch shielded the sky but they went to the corner where they could see the sky both to the north and east. Their eyes were already adjusted to the dark since they’d been in bed. Vic examined the open areas, the tree line, and listened carefully before he allowed himself to look at the sky. There was no traffic noise or other sounds of civilization to break the silence and no glow of electric lights to spoil the view.

A man-made meteor passed by to the north shedding fragments of various colors as it disintegrated. It was too high and far away to hear anything. It petered out, consumed before it got anywhere near the ground. Vic silently hoped it wasn’t a manned object. There were fine single lines of debris reentering, very much like a natural meteor shower, but they suspected none of it was natural. Suddenly there was a bright spark high overhead, then another until there had been a regular procession off them leading off to the east. After a pause there was a gentle orange glow on the eastern horizon that faded away. A few minutes later there was a brief white flash reflected off some clouds and then nothing more. That seemed to be it for this round.

“Do you want to look at the news on the satellite phone and see if anybody knows what is going on?” Eileen asked Vic.

“Not tonight. It always takes them some time to decide what to say, or to sort out what others are saying. Better to wait until tomorrow when the foreign reports will be more reliable. Let’s just go back to bed for now,” Vic said.

“You’re right,” Eileen said but leaned out and took one last look. Nothing was happening so she followed Vic back inside.

A snippet of April 13. Rough and unedited.

After Jeff Singh abruptly left the treaty signing to return to his ship the North American negotiator, Quincy Love, turned to his Hawaiian supplied security and asked to be returned to his hotel rooms. The press immediately started packing up their equipment, and minor officials seeing the principal participants leave, headed for the exits too.

Prime Minister Tanaka was temporarily besieged by his own military and law enforcement demanding what they should do with the nuclear weapon at their feet with which Jeff had gifted them. By the time he made clear he wanted it as far from Honolulu as they could take it and secured with guards in a remote location the hanger was almost cleared. Their security people were standing around the perimeter still but the janitors were there too, looking eager to clean up and close the building.

Tanaka looked around dismayed. His Business Minister Naito was still standing fast by him but even the mayor of Honolulu and his aide were in retreat for the exit. “I had no idea the signatories would just abruptly march off without taking time to issue closing statements to the press. I was going to propose an official luau tomorrow as a grand celebration. That isn’t going to work with the guests of honor gone.”

“That’s pretty hard to top as a closing statement,” Naito said, gesturing at the white cylinder of the weapon resting on the hanger floor. “I suspect the North Americans never thought he’d offer hard evidence of what sort of weapons their ship carried. If they had they would have never issued a flat denial. Other governments would at most offer up photos or video as evidence. It’s an intelligence bonanza few would share once they got a sample of their enemies most advanced weapon.”

Tanaka looked deeply thoughtful. An expression Naito wasn’t used to seeing on his face. “That tells me they see little value in the tech. They must have as good or better. I think you got the key there when you said other governments. Singh and his ladies are not really a traditional government. I don’t get the impression it was ever something to which they aspired. They are just some very strange people who fell into significant powers. There’s no predicting what they may do because they are amateurs.”

Naito had to stifle a smile at the strong disapproval Tanaka put on that word.

The roar of exhaust from Dionysus’ Chariot made them turn their heads and look out the open hanger doors. The dark wedge of the ship was already well off the ground rising on a pencil line of purple flame when it winked out of existence. The roar cut off abruptly a couple of seconds later.

“And North America should be cautious and treat these odd amateurs with all due respect until they can do that,” Naito concluded.

“That’s some seriously spooky stuff,” Tanaka agreed.

“Thank you for your support,” Naito said. “I think this left us looking very good, and the fact North America didn’t contest having the talks here would make arguing against the reality of our independence in the future rather difficult.”

“As if you left me any way to graciously beg off,” Tanaka said. “You got away with it this time, but if you keep pulling this sort of stunt it will eventually blow up in your face. Don’t think for a moment I wouldn’t have put the whole thing on your head if it had turned into a fiasco. You are almost as dangerous and unpredictable as these Spacers.”

“I’ll only take such risks if the potential benefits are worth it,” Naito promised. “I’m pretty sure Singh is going to reward us with regular shuttle service. That puts us on a par with Australia, Tonga, and Japan. That’s an exclusive club to join with economic benefits.”

“Good, because I don’t think the North Americans are going to reward us at all for facilitating this. I’ll be happy if they don’t try to recover their weapon by military action and then try to pretend we never had possession of it.”

“Where are you taking it?” Naito wondered. “Are you going to call in the French as Singh suggested? You had your heads so close together with the brass I couldn’t hear.”

“We’re going to make a great show of loading it up on an aircraft and taking it to the French Frigate Shoals,” Tanaka said. “Where it is really going you have no need to know. The suggestion we share it with the French is an excellent suggestion, but I have no idea if he cleared it with them first. It’s just the sort of thing this amateur might blurt out as an ad hoc thing without worrying about it failing if he hadn’t arranged it behind the scenes. In any case, the French can damn well open an embassy or a consulate here if they expect us to share such advanced technology with them. Hawaii has no need of such space weapons and no ships to carry them. I’m perfectly willing to let it sit unopened until it’s obsolete if they aren’t willing to acknowledge us that much.”

“That seems a small price,” Naito agreed. “I think they will readily agree.”

Tanaka gave him a sharp look. “Don’t try to help me on the sly. I’ll handle the French.”

“I wouldn’t think of it,” Naito said, showing his palms in surrender. He was already thinking who might be a conduit to the French but dropped that thought reluctantly. “I’m going home up the hill with my neighbor to celebrate privately and leave it all to you now.”

Tanaka nodded a goodbye without scolding him any further. Naito took his leave before he issued any more restrictive orders. Diana was visible waiting for him by the exit. One of only a handful of people who hadn’t vacated the hanger. There were armed soldiers circled around the weapon already. Naito figured they would bring in some sort of a lift as soon as the place was empty and they had some privacy. He didn’t think it was a rational fear, but he’d just as soon be several kilometers away when they started handling it.

A snippet from Family Law 6

April woke up slowly. Normally her eyes popped open and she was eager to get up. Today she still felt tired and a bit stiff, to the point she wondered if she was coming down with something. It had been years since she had even a cold.

“What time is it, House?” she called at the ceiling.

“Eleven o’clock and a tenth,” it replied.

“Oh, Derf time,” April muttered, trying to remember their system.

“Yes,” the house agreed taking it for a question.

“How many hours are there in a Derf day, House?” April asked.

“Twenty.”

OK, so it was early afternoon, April thought. She’s slept longer than expected. She knew exactly with what inflection Heather would say “You must have needed it.”, she might be right too. She had been through a long rough day from which to recover.

“Is Jeff Singh at home, House?”

“I am blocked from discussing Jeff’s location, schedule, or history.”

“Are you allowed to send him a message, House?” April inquired.

“Yes, I am,” It agreed.

“Then tell him I am awake if not actually up yet, House.”

“We have not been introduced for me to be able to define ‘I’,” It informed her.

April ground her teeth a little. There was nothing like dealing with an Artificial Stupid to irritate her. Even the top-end AI in a ship was so literal minded it could reduce you to tears. An AI supposedly suitable for a house had the personality of a two-year-old. On the other hand, this was probably Jeff’s fault in granting his permissions, because he was paranoid. It tended to make for a paranoid machine too.

Just out of curiosity, April asked, “Do you have my voice sample logged from yesterday, House?”

“Yes, I do.”

“In those conversations did Jeff call me by name so that you could extrapolate that the voice sample you took matched my name?” April asked.

“Your name was never spoken by Mr. Singh,” the house said. “Your name was mentioned by him to the hotel preceding your arrival, but Mr. Singh has blocked me from accepting identification directly or inferring second-order associations by event, proximity, or third-party testimony. I may only attach a name to your voice file by his direct order.”

“I’ll ask him to do that, House. Please tell him that the guest, claiming to be April, informs him she is awake and contemplating getting up sometime today.”

“Message sent,” the house informed her. It took it a full ten seconds to parse out her statement and decide it passed every test.

She’d be even more irritated if it wasn’t for the fact AIs irked Jeff almost as much as they did her. For the first time, she considered that perhaps he brought some of that upon himself. In particular, she hated it even worse when people used a cheap or free AI as an unannounced com answering avatar. If she called someone and found out several sentences into the conversation that it was just a message taking program, she just disconnected. If they obnoxiously allowed the program to use their voice, she just deleted the contact. April had to admit that giving an AI any freedom to apply logic could come back on you in a nasty way. One way to deal with that was Jeff’s way – to lay narrow restrictions on them. Since that didn’t work with people, why should it with AIs? She still had no real solution.

“Hello, guest claiming to be April,” Jeff’s voice teased her from the ceiling. “Do you have some mutually known fact or event to verify your identity?”

“You could march in here and see who is in your bed in about the time it took you to ask that. Or, you could check your guest registry and see how many other guests could be talking to you through your insane paranoid house computer, and identify me by process of elimination. If you don’t introduce me to your house I’m going to go stay elsewhere.”

“No need,” Jeff assured her. “Just a simple DNA scan will satisfy me.”

“I could be a clone,” April warned him.

“Aged the same? I can imagine the Chinese might try to do that. Though I think you’d be one of their last choices who to try it out on. I could write a nasty horror novel where an April clone turns on its creators by its devious nature before they can properly program it. I think I’d accept that as functionally equivalent if we could do it,” Jeff said. “It might be handy to have two of you even if one could be brought up to speed somehow.”

“The maintenance would kill you,” April assured him.

“You must be ready for lunch,” Jeff said.

“That wasn’t what I had in mind, but you’re right, I am hungry already. Did you make an appointment to speak with Lee while I slept? Do we have time for lunch before seeing her?”

“I arranged for us all to have our luncheon together,” Jeff said. “She, the hotel kitchen, and I are all waiting in breathless anticipation for you to refresh yourself and join us. Your bag is beside the shower and when you arise, I will give word for Lee and breakfast to join us in a half-hour,” Jeff said. “Same table, same balcony as this morning. Do you think you can find it?”

“Likely, but if you will introduce me, the house can give step by step directions.”

“Oh, very well. House, the person I am speaking to is April Lewis. You may register that ID to her voiceprint and give her full administrative rights to the house.”

“Noted.”

“See, was that so hard?” April asked.

“We’ll see who comes to lunch,” Jeff said darkly.

“Or what,” April replied in the same ominous tone. “Conversation ended, House.”

“Noted.”

Leaving Facebook

I don’t feel I can give Facebook my clicks anymore. It’s a horrid toxic environment. I liked to promote my books there but I’m leaving tomorrow. Ending my account. I’ll try to post more promotional material here. I’m on MeWe if anybody wants to look for me there. I hang out in Sarah Hoyt’s Diner.