Fred’s size and build. He wore an appealing cologne, and Fred was going to ask him what it was, but when they were separated and he got a look at the man, he wasn’t a russ at all but a Capias man in a gold and yellow uniform. He was handsome in a boyish way, square-jawed and rugged-looking, someone you could trust. He and Fred nodded to each other as they drifted apart.
The freaky ride was not yet over, but it did slow down, and Fred’s next encounter was with the tearful lulu who had become separated from her sister and who pirouetted slowly into his arms. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed, her bare honey-brown shoulders heaving with unstoppable misery. “There, there,” Fred said, patting her on the back in a brotherly fashion. Her hair was just under his chin, and it was flecked with scarlet and yellow strands and smelled of lilac, and though it had been some years since he’d held a lulu in his arms, he fondly remembered the pleasant shape and heft of them. “There, there,” he repeated with affection. She relaxed in his arms, but before long, the pedway plates drew them apart. As she flowed away, the lulu raised her face, ruined by tears, and struggled up from the depths of her despair to blow him a kiss.
TWO HOURS LATER, Fred arrived at the BB of R chapter hall on the 83rd Munilevel of North Wabash. Once inside, he removed his hat and twisted it into a solid little fob that he hung from his belt web. Then he went downstairs to the canteen. He needn’t have hurried or, for that matter, come at all. Contrary to the impression he had given Mary, there were no duty call-outs waiting for him. He’d spent the last few weeks sitting in the canteen drinking coffeesh and watching vids. He sat in the corner where he could avoid his brothers while keeping an eye on the door, in case Reilly came in. Fred dreaded their eventual reunion, especially now with Shelley’s news.
The morning passed, and during the lunchtime rush, Fred left the building and wandered around the nearby shopping arcade. About the time he started back, the BB of R mentar paged him.
“Yes, Marcus, what’s up?”
“You bet I am.”
At first Fred thought he’d misheard. “Say again.”
“I see,” Fred said, “but I don’t understand why you’re telling this to me. This sounds like john duty.”
Fred swore out loud, and the people in the arcade looked at him. He clamped his mouth shut and marched back to the chapter house. He went upstairs and found the first vacant quiet booth. “John duty? John rate? Are you crazy?”
“It’s an opportunity for gainful employment.”
“As a john? That’s no opportunity; that’s an insult! I’m a russ, and I have the right to duty commensurate with my skill and experience ratings. Let me remind you that I was acquitted of all charges and that I have the right to be treated as any other law-abiding russ.”
“On the contrary,” the soft-spoken BB of R mentar replied, “Applied People is a private company. It has the prerogative to offer any duty opportunity it sees fit, including no duty.”
“Bullshit! I’m a russ! I’ll never do john work!”
Fred left the booth and slammed the door. He stormed down the stairs and out of the building. As he went down the steps, three brother russes were coming up, and one of them clipped his shoulder, upsetting his balance. When he looked up, the three russes were waiting at the top, challenging him with their eyes.
“Feck you, brothers,” he said.
ON THE WAY home, Fred counted four more people, like the lulu earlier, crying their eyes out.
Twenty Questions
Meewee stood on the bank of the fishpond, his pockets full of gravel. With his world crashing down around him, with the GEP yanked out from under him, he could think of nothing better to do than throw some stones and grill Arrow.
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A row of organizational charts popped up in front of Meewee. There wasn’t much tying the two businessmen together. Besides their mutual interest in the GEP, Jaspersen’s Borealis Botanicals supplied all of Capias World’s needs for bath and body care products. For a hundred-million-person workforce, Meewee supposed that amounted to a lot of shampoo.
Tossing stones, grinding his teeth, Meewee browsed the public and confidential links Arrow supplied. Among other facts he gleaned, he learned that all new labor contracts at the Aria Yachts yards at both Mezzoluna and Trailing Earth had already been let to Capias World workers. Moreover, there were published rumors that TECA, the space colony port authority at Trailing Earth, was also considering replacing its own Applied People labor force with Capias personnel.
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Meewee interrupted the litany. <
After a moment of reviewing Meewee’s upref files to determine his personal definition of what could be considered ethical, the mentar said <
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It was like playing a game of Simon Says with this thing. <
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Now here was an unexpected answer. Afraid it was too good to be true, Meewee tossed a half-dozen stones before asking <
A frame opened before him that displayed a clause of the 2052 International Spacefaring Treaty. As best as Meewee could parse the legalese, it stated that once a privately owned, nonmilitary ship was launched from Earth orbit or from any spaceport in the inner solar system, it acquired a provisional sovereign status and authority over its own disposition in most nontreaty matters. Meewee read and reread the clause and tried to understand why Arrow was showing it to him. Finally, he gave up and said <
In reply, Arrow painted the sky above him black and projected a recording of the nuclear blast Meewee had
