Post by Lorpius Prime on May 17, 2009 22:45:14 GMT -5
Pascual was fiddling with his tie when the door to his apartment opened. He tugged at the knot a final time and then turned to see who it was just as his uncle came around the corner into the front room.
"Your door was open," Eduard Molinas said. He held up a brown paper bag, "I brought you some breakfast.
"Thanks," Pascual said, and he sounded even more exhausted than he felt. He gestured for his uncle to sit down at his little table.
"I couldn't remember whether you liked the orange or grapefruit juice," Eduard said as he ripped into the paper bag, "so I got one of both."
"It's apple juice that I prefer. Give me the orange."
His uncle tossed him the little carton, then opened the other one himself. "Oops. Well I guess I'll just drink this one."
Pascual managed a small chuckle.
Eduard took a small drink, then set his juice carton down on the table. "So how are you?" he asked.
"I'm all right, I guess," Pascual said. He swallowed most of his orange juice in one go, then sighed. "I'm going to miss the funeral."
"Yeah," Eduard looked down at his lap for a moment. "There aren't any other ships leaving for Mars this week, but you know I could order a special mission."
"No," Pascual shook his head. "Bernardo's told me enough about what's happening that I know you're going to need every bit of political capital you've got just to hold things together. You can't commandeer a Fleet ship just for me."
Eduard nodded. "Yeah," he said after while. "I'll do it for you anyway, though. If Jahnavi thinks he can turn himself into Prime Minister of the OES too, then so be it. You've been through enough crap."
Pascual smiled, "Thanks, but I'll be okay." He reached for the bag that his uncle had brought, and removed a toasted bagel-and-egg sandwich.
"Oh hey," Eduard said, "I've got a funny story."
"Yeah?" Pascual unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite.
"Yeah, so, the Tadpoles gave us one of their 'artificial gravity' generators yesterday. The Fleet brought it over in this giant steel box—to keep it secure, I guess."
"Well that was a wasted effort, the Bats already figured out what we were doing."
"That's what I thought, but I'm not going to worry about the Fleet's paranoia with something like that. Anyway, they take it out of the box, and I swear to God it looks like a piece of trash."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean it's this little black piece of metal or whatever about the size of your shoe," Eduard held up his hands to illustrate what he meant. "If you saw it on the street you'd think it was a piece of an old car engine or something."
"But it was a generator, right? The Tadpoles aren't trying to pull one over on us?"
"That's what Bernardo said too, but the Fleet swears up and down that they've seen this thing working, so there you go."
"I guess that's good news if it's something simple," Pascual offered, "maybe it'll be easier for us to make them."
"Well that's where this whole thing gets absurd. So Willy and Lavrentiy have gotten a bunch of engineers and scientists from the Fleet and our contractors to take a first look at this thing. Willy's also still trying to feel around to see how well some of these companies will hold up after we go public about the colony."
Pascual nodded.
"Anyway," Eduard went on, "one of these eggheads from Lockheed walks up to the table. He picks up the gravity machine, turns it around once, sets it back down, and says 'We patented this ten years ago.'"
"What?"
"Yeah, you should've been there when Willy told me, I thought he was going to hyperventilate."
Pascual tried to imagine the little German financier lapsing into hysteric shouting, but shook his head at the image. "They can't have already invented it! Why aren't they building them?"
"They thought it was a dead-end. Apparently generating even half of Earth's gravity requires a terawatt or two of power." Eduard shrugged, "So now we've got lawyers trying to figure out what to do about the patent. Willy's hoping it turns out the devices aren't quite the same thing, and the new one doesn't need so much power."
"Yeah, that sounds like a lot of energy to waste just to hold you down," Pascual shook his head. "Can they really afford to put that much power into their spaceships?"
"That may be the less funny part," Eduard said, a little more subdued. "The Fleet's technicians have been crawling all over that laser ever since they dropped it off at the Boneyards. Lavrentiy tells me they're pretty sure it's powered by a fusion rocket."
"What does that mean?"
"Well they think it means the Tadpoles have figured out how to make working fusion reactors that are actually worth a damn," Eduard shook his head.
Pascual didn't really know anything about the physics, but he'd been seeing news stories that said practical fusion was almost here for most of his life. Nothing ever seemed to come of it.
"But more importantly," Pascual's uncle continued, "it means we can't build more of the things. Lavrentiy says his people think they might be able to work up an approximation using hydrogen bombs, but that would be a one-shot weapon. Like a mine, not a gun."
"Still, that's something," Pascual said. He finished the last bite of his bagel and searched for a napkin to clean up the crumbs.
"Maybe," Eduard sighed. "That radiation burst still has everyone pretty spooked. Maybe things will look better once things have calmed down and the engineers start figuring out these new toys."
Pascual nodded. He brushed off the last of his breakfast from the front of his coat and rolled up his napkin into a little ball.
"Anyway," Eduard said, "I thought I'd come by one last time before you ship out. You going straight to the airport?"
"No, I'm going to go with the motorcade to pick up Rokden's delegation before heading out."
"All right," Eduard reached across the table to slap Pascual on the shoulder. "I'll meet the two of you at Maiquetia then."
"See you."
Eduard stood up, "Your parents would be proud, Pascual." He turned and left.
Pascual stayed rooted to his seat for several minutes. Eventually his watch beeped at him.
It was time to go.
Xi Feng looked upwards out of the great observation windows of Quito Station. The tastes of the station's American designers were abundantly clear: the windows use as much transparent material as possible while minimizing support structures or decoration. The result was a much nicer view, but it could be alarming to anyone unused to space travel.
Task Force One hovered in the distance above her. If Xi Feng had been in a movie, the nine warships and their ten support vessels would have been only a few hundred meters away and closely packed so that they would have been visible to the naked eye in all their glory. As it was, only someone as familiar as Xi Feng was with the local starscape could have said which of the many points of light were ships; and even she didn't know which ones actually belonged to her and which were other Earth Fleet units or private vessels.
A soft bell rang out over the station intercom, followed by an equally soft and pleasant voice announcing the arrival of a climber at the terminal. Xi Feng turned away from the windows and focused on preparing herself for the gate to open and let its passengers through. There were no handlebars on the ceiling here—they would have spoiled the view—only some conventional handrails around the edges of the bulbous room. Xi Feng's space shoes—really just heavy socks with rubberized soles—provided some traction on the carpeted floor, but little enough that she had to pay close attention to her movements to avoid floating away. If she did that, one of the station's strategically placed attendants would launch himself into the air to rescue her, which would just ruin her entire image.
An attendant slid open the door to the passenger gate and then stepped to one side to allow the disembarking passengers through. The people Xi Feng was waiting for were right at the front of the line, and she focused on keeping her back and shoulders steady as they approached.
They were all wearing velcro-soled boots they had received on the climber that allowed them to walk across the carpet in a rough approximation of their usual gravity-assisted method of transport. All except one, that was. Xi Feng was very careful to keep her expression level as the Bat ducked through the gate door at the back of the little group, gripping the floor with his extended toe claws.
Bats were not an uncommon sight on Quito Station. But most of them wore the black berets of merchants or civilian tourists. A few green berets indicating diplomatic personnel were mixed in, mostly consular staff assisting the civilians. Very few Bats that passed through this station wore the blue berets of military officers. Even fewer of them were allowed on board Earth Fleet vessels. Xi Feng had bristled when she'd been told that she was to provide accommodation to such an individual aboard one of her ships. Welcoming a known spy onto an important military asset seemed a phenomenally foolish idea. But Xi Feng had her orders.
The passengers made their way across the terminal to Xi Feng. The Human man who seemed to be the group's leader stopped in front of her and bowed slightly.
"Commodore Lee, I presume?"
His tie came out of his coat as he straightened up and twisted in the microgravity. The man tucked it back into his jacket and smiled, rolling his eyes as if to indicate this wasn't the first time he'd gone through that motion.
Which is what happens when you go into space dressed like you're just visiting the office, she thought.
Instead of saying that, however, Xi Feng smiled and gave a small bow of her own.
"Yes," she said. "And you are Ambassador Molinas, correct?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said, and held out a hand, "a pleasure to meet you."
This was an interesting problem. Molinas' boots would keep him firmly in place through a handshake, but Xi Feng's shoes would not. Refusing to shake his hand would be rude, and although Xi Feng wouldn't mind the personal insult so much, she had a professional reputation to uphold.
These thoughts went through Xi Feng's mind in the half second it took her to reach out and clasp Molinas' hand. "The pleasure is all mine," she said.
Xi Feng pumped his hand curtly. She attempted to perfectly balance the force of her downswing and push her feet back to the floor on the reverse. She almost managed this, but overcorrected just enough to bounce her off the carpet. Rather than awkwardly grabbing onto Molinas' arm for stability or simply allowing herself to float away, however, Xi Feng bent her ankles sharply to push off from the floor with her toes.
Pascual recoiled as the small woman shot into the air like a dart. He tilted his chin back to follow her flight path. Beside him, Rokden and his two attendants turned their heads to do the same. The Earth Fleet commodore brought her legs forward in a way that caused her to spin backwards, and she landed feet-first on top of the clear ceiling, bending her knees to absorb the impact. Pascual's head continued to spin even after Commodore Lee had stopped.
"Hello everyone," Lee said, without rising out of her upside-down crouch. "Welcome to Quito Station. I'm Commodore Lee, commanding Task Force One, which makes me your host for the foreseeable future. There's a shuttle waiting for us at the docking terminal, and if no one objects I suggest we save the personal introductions until we're all strapped in."
She paused, but not really long enough for anyone to actually object.
"Please follow me," she said. And then she leapt from the ceiling back to the floor, spinning and landing at a spot near a handrail at the end of the terminal. She stood up straight again to await everyone else.
Hyong Yaheek leaned forward from behind Pascual. "I like her," he said.
Pascual sighed. He turned to the Tadpole delegation and gestured towards their Earth Fleet host.
"If you please, Ambassador."
Rokden nodded, and the five of them started forward to catch up with the commodore. When they reached her, she turned to lead them into the central concourse of Quito Station.
The last time Pascual had been here—the only other time he'd been in space at all—had been nearly 11 years ago. Pascual had only just joined the OES' diplomatic corps and he'd been forced to join the delegation which received Ambassador Hyarahek at the Bat's first arrival on the station. Hyarahek had been noticeably snobbish even then, but he had at least pretended to respect his Human hosts.
The concourse hadn't changed much since that time—its designers had planned for the long term—but it was much busier. Trade between Earth and the Bats was only just starting to take off in 2062. Now there were shuttles departing every hour or two for Bat freighters waiting in orbit. Crewmen and station workers wandered around looking for food, entertainment, or simple rest between shifts. Most of them walked around using the same velcro boots as the handful of tourists.
The Bat colony on Titan kept up a small but steady demand for a handful of Earth's agricultural products like coca leaves, processed chocolate, and frozen chickens. The Bats seemed to have a voracious appetite for chickens and other Earth fowl. As Earth's ability to export commercial products off planet had grown, Bat consumption had even led to a noticeable increase in the price of chicken. It was significant enough that some OES members had actually talked about capping exports to keep down the domestic price of meat. No one had tried it yet, however, and Pascual doubted anyone ever would. Bat currency was the single most valuable product traded on Earth ever. Which was why something around a tenth of Earth's entire merchant space fleet was owned by Tyson Foods.
The other large component of the station's population was off-duty Earth Fleet personnel, either on leave from the ships of First Fleet or part of Quito Station's own complement. The military balked at the idea of restricting themselves to the floor, but bounced and soared around the station in all three dimensions. Pascual thought this had to be terribly frustrating for the station attendants who had to discourage tourists from imitating the behavior, and for the people who had to clean the windows smudged by so many feet and hands.
A pair of Bat tourists flew overhead, taking advantage of their wings for extra mobility. They flipped over and attempted to land on the ceiling near a few Earth Fleet spacers, then squawked when they couldn't find a foothold. They bounced right off the glass and spun around haphazardly as they tried to recover their bearings. A couple of station attendants watched the two Bats, but made no move to help. No one wanted to risk laceration injuries from the claws of a panicked Bat. Eventually the tourists got themselves back under control and flapped their way back to the floor, chastened.
Hyong hissed something in his own language behind Pascual, probably some sort of embarrassed mutter.
He, Pascual, and the three Tadpoles continued on in Commodore Lee's wake. She wasn't wearing velcro boots either, but still managed to keep a firm enough grip on the carpet to slide across it with just her shoes. Pascual wouldn't have wanted to try that himself.
As they walked, Pascual felt his stomach begin to churn again. The sensation lasted only a few seconds, however, before his implants released another dose of anti-nausea drugs into his bloodstream. His discomfort faded. The implants were something that Pascual had not had 11 years ago. He wasn't going to miss the vomiting.
The Commodore led the delegation to one of the military docking terminals. Earth Fleet personnel shuttles still accounted for most of the human traffic through Quito station, with spacers constantly transferring among various postings.
A small honor guard of station attendants and Earth Fleet spacers was waiting at their gate. Two of the three spacers were enlisted men and it took Pascual a moment to recognize their rank insignia—almost all of the Fleet's groundside personnel were full officers. The Chief Petty Officer and Spacer Apprentice—both men—were accompanied by a young Lieutenant who looked like she had just graduated from the Academy yesterday. All three of them saluted when Commodore Lee stopped the delegation in front of the gate. Beside them, three station attendants smiled and bowed politely.
Commodore Lee returned the salute—an exaggerated and jerky nod that required no hands. She was the shortest person in the entire group, but also very clearly the one in charge. She turned around.
"Ambassadors," she said, and gestured to her colleagues behind her. "This is my adjutant, Lieutenant Muyskens. She'll be the one responsible for seeing to your needs during our mission, so if you ever have any questions or requirements that your immediate attendants can't provide, feel free to contact her."
Pascual smiled at the girl—she had to be in her early twenties but she still looked sixteen. Muyskens didn't seem to notice him; however, she was too busy staring at the Tadpoles.
"And these," Commodore Lee stepped aside, "Are Chief Engels and Spacer Apprentice Mohammed. They'll be our pilots for the hop to the Barn Swallow. Theirs is one of two personnel shuttles in Task Force One, so you'll probably be seeing a lot of them."
The Commodore bowed slightly, and Chief Engels stepped forward. He clapped his hands together and then addressed the group, "Welcome everyone, your personal cargo has already been stowed aboard, so we can leave just as soon as all of you are strapped in. The transfer to the Swallow takes around twenty minutes, but it's going to take Quito control about ten minutes to clear a path for us from the time we tell them that we're ready to go. So the sooner everyone's aboard, the sooner we'll have you to your destinations." The Chief smiled like he hadn't just told everyone to hurry up.
Pascual decided that he was probably the closest thing the assortment of representatives had to a spokesperson. "Thank you, Chief," he said. "Please, show us the way."
The Chief nodded respectfully and held out his hands to point at the door which would lead into the airlock joining the station with their shuttle. The nine of them would have to go through the airlock cycle, but that was just a safety precaution; they wouldn't have to undergo any pressure changes.
Because the elevator at Quito station was Earth's first and was still the largest and most extensively used, it had set a lot of standards for Human space travel, including pressure. Air pressure on the orbital component of the station was the same as at the base station: slightly below normal pressure at sea level. There were a few reasons for that, but the primary one given by the station's private operators was simply to minimize the risk of airtight containers becoming crushed or exploded during travel. Since Quito was the hub of Earth Fleet's space infrastructure, the Fleet had quickly adopted Quito standard pressure aboard all of its own vessels for ease of operations.
That decision had ultimately forced the standard on the other two major elevator stations as well. When it first opened, Singapore station operated at the sea level pressure of its ground station, but made the switch after about a year when it became clear that they were serving more Fleet spacers than local tourists. The Kampala elevator simply used Quito pressure from the beginning since it was a less dramatic difference and because its government operators were happy enough to have the elevator at all, and didn't care so much about the details. Only the Maldives elevator still used sea level atmosphere, but that was a relatively tiny installation operated by the Indian government for its own purposes.
The airlock was big enough to hold twenty people simultaneously—more than the shuttle itself could seat. But since each of the three Tadpoles was both wider and thicker than the average Human while Hyong was no mouse either, it was a cramped fit inside the chamber. After a moment Pascual forced himself to admit that he was probably taking up more than his fair share of space, too. But only just a little.
"Now," Chief Engels said as they waited for the airlock to cycle, "I understand that our Tadpole guests have already travelled aboard one of our shuttles. But for those of you that have not, I shou—"
The Chief stopped abruptly and his eyes bulged a little. Pascual tilted his head, unable to figure out what was going on.
"I'm sorry," the Chief said in a more subdued tone. He turned to the Tadpoles, "That was rude of me; I've realized that I don't know how I should be referring to your species. I hope that you won't take offense at my error."
"Not at all," Rokden said, and Engels relief was visible. "We have heard this label, and it is acceptable, much better than some alternatives."
All three Tadpoles rotated their heads to look at Hyong. The Bat bared his teeth at them. His wings remained still, however, so Pascual concluded it was probably a friendly smile rather than any sort of threat.
Pascual looked back in time to see Commodore Lee finish mouthing something to the Chief. Engels nodded, "I am glad hear it, though I will strive to be more considerate in the future. Anyway, as I was saying, for those of you who haven't been in one of our shuttles before," and now he turned to look at both Pascual and Hyong, "be aware that there aren't any velcro surfaces, so your boots—or, ah, claws—won't be as much use. There'll be bars across the ceiling for you to hold onto and propel yourself around," he patted a bar near the outer door. "For your own safety, go easy when you're first moving with them. It's pretty easy to go too fast and break a toe or give yourself a concussion when you're new at this."
Pascual nodded his acknowledgment to the spacer. Engels looked around at everyone one more time before nodding back in approval. A buzzer announced that the cycle was finished. Pascual found the Chief's perfect timing suspicious. Engels released the hatch to clear the way into the shuttle.
Earth Fleet's personnel shuttles were essentially tubes with a standard docking port at both ends and thrusters, sensors, and cargo modules wrapped around the outside. There was a single aisle through the center ending at the hatches, and the seats were built into the walls on either side. The shuttles could be docked end-to-end in a chain to move large numbers of people through a single docking port. The two pilots' seats were at the front of the aisle, with control surfaces and monitors on the wall in front.
Engels went through first to strap into his seat and begin his pre-flight checks. Commodore Lee followed him, and the Tadpoles went in next, all of them reached their seats and began strapping in without much trouble. Hyong went in after the Tadpoles, with Pascual and Lieutenant Muyskens behind. Spacer Apprentice Mohammed brought up the rear so that he could close the hatch behind them. Hyong reached his seat easily, but had to pause and consider his actions from there. Pascual, however, had difficulty getting the hang of pulling himself along the handlebars. He couldn't figure out what to do with his legs without an anchor, and he nearly kicked the Bat in front of him several times. After a moment, Mohammed finished sealing up the rear hatch and helped Pascual settle into his seat.
"Got it!" Pascual said once he was finally strapped in, and the Spacer Apprentice chuckled. Pascual knew that he was going to be a total klutz in space, but he hoped to at least keep a good sense of humor about it. He looked around and smiled at the other passengers already secured in their seats. The Tadpoles had to turn awkwardly into the back pads in order for the seats to accommodate their bulk, but if the position was uncomfortable, they showed no outward signs of it.
"All right," Spacer Apprentice Mohammed said from the front of the aisle next to his own position. Chief Engels was busy tapping away at controls and let his copilot continue. "Now, safety-wise, you shouldn't have a lot to worry about. There are emergency pressure bubbles at both hatches and oxygen masks above each of your seats. Those aren't like the ones on airliners, though," he looked at Pascual, "they're not going to drop down automatically. If there is any sort of emergency, then I strongly suggest that all of you just stay in your seats and let the Commodore, Lieutenant, Chief, and me deal with everything for you. If it's a slow leak from a micrometeoroid we'll have plenty of time to secure all of you, probably even to patch it up. And anything worse than that's more likely to just kill all of us before we notice."
Pascual wasn't sure how comforted he felt by that information. But the Spacer Apprentice smiled, "Don't worry about it, though. Our shuttles have a way better safety record than the jet liner all of you took to the base station." He patted the hull of the little ship, and then sat down in his seat to strap in.
Pascual wasn't sure how comforted he felt by that information, either. But he didn't dwell on it for long. Chief Engels turned away from his monitors and leaned into the aisle to grin at everyone.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I'd like to welcome you aboard Earth Fleet shuttle tee-eff-one-dash-one, or Taffy Eleven as I think we'll be calling her for a while. It seems that Quito control is giving us the VIP treatment today and we are cleared for immediate departure. How about that?" he winked, and then turned back around. "Passengers may want to hold onto the handlebars to prepare for our maneuvering burns, which begin in… ten seconds… nine…"
"Your door was open," Eduard Molinas said. He held up a brown paper bag, "I brought you some breakfast.
"Thanks," Pascual said, and he sounded even more exhausted than he felt. He gestured for his uncle to sit down at his little table.
"I couldn't remember whether you liked the orange or grapefruit juice," Eduard said as he ripped into the paper bag, "so I got one of both."
"It's apple juice that I prefer. Give me the orange."
His uncle tossed him the little carton, then opened the other one himself. "Oops. Well I guess I'll just drink this one."
Pascual managed a small chuckle.
Eduard took a small drink, then set his juice carton down on the table. "So how are you?" he asked.
"I'm all right, I guess," Pascual said. He swallowed most of his orange juice in one go, then sighed. "I'm going to miss the funeral."
"Yeah," Eduard looked down at his lap for a moment. "There aren't any other ships leaving for Mars this week, but you know I could order a special mission."
"No," Pascual shook his head. "Bernardo's told me enough about what's happening that I know you're going to need every bit of political capital you've got just to hold things together. You can't commandeer a Fleet ship just for me."
Eduard nodded. "Yeah," he said after while. "I'll do it for you anyway, though. If Jahnavi thinks he can turn himself into Prime Minister of the OES too, then so be it. You've been through enough crap."
Pascual smiled, "Thanks, but I'll be okay." He reached for the bag that his uncle had brought, and removed a toasted bagel-and-egg sandwich.
"Oh hey," Eduard said, "I've got a funny story."
"Yeah?" Pascual unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite.
"Yeah, so, the Tadpoles gave us one of their 'artificial gravity' generators yesterday. The Fleet brought it over in this giant steel box—to keep it secure, I guess."
"Well that was a wasted effort, the Bats already figured out what we were doing."
"That's what I thought, but I'm not going to worry about the Fleet's paranoia with something like that. Anyway, they take it out of the box, and I swear to God it looks like a piece of trash."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean it's this little black piece of metal or whatever about the size of your shoe," Eduard held up his hands to illustrate what he meant. "If you saw it on the street you'd think it was a piece of an old car engine or something."
"But it was a generator, right? The Tadpoles aren't trying to pull one over on us?"
"That's what Bernardo said too, but the Fleet swears up and down that they've seen this thing working, so there you go."
"I guess that's good news if it's something simple," Pascual offered, "maybe it'll be easier for us to make them."
"Well that's where this whole thing gets absurd. So Willy and Lavrentiy have gotten a bunch of engineers and scientists from the Fleet and our contractors to take a first look at this thing. Willy's also still trying to feel around to see how well some of these companies will hold up after we go public about the colony."
Pascual nodded.
"Anyway," Eduard went on, "one of these eggheads from Lockheed walks up to the table. He picks up the gravity machine, turns it around once, sets it back down, and says 'We patented this ten years ago.'"
"What?"
"Yeah, you should've been there when Willy told me, I thought he was going to hyperventilate."
Pascual tried to imagine the little German financier lapsing into hysteric shouting, but shook his head at the image. "They can't have already invented it! Why aren't they building them?"
"They thought it was a dead-end. Apparently generating even half of Earth's gravity requires a terawatt or two of power." Eduard shrugged, "So now we've got lawyers trying to figure out what to do about the patent. Willy's hoping it turns out the devices aren't quite the same thing, and the new one doesn't need so much power."
"Yeah, that sounds like a lot of energy to waste just to hold you down," Pascual shook his head. "Can they really afford to put that much power into their spaceships?"
"That may be the less funny part," Eduard said, a little more subdued. "The Fleet's technicians have been crawling all over that laser ever since they dropped it off at the Boneyards. Lavrentiy tells me they're pretty sure it's powered by a fusion rocket."
"What does that mean?"
"Well they think it means the Tadpoles have figured out how to make working fusion reactors that are actually worth a damn," Eduard shook his head.
Pascual didn't really know anything about the physics, but he'd been seeing news stories that said practical fusion was almost here for most of his life. Nothing ever seemed to come of it.
"But more importantly," Pascual's uncle continued, "it means we can't build more of the things. Lavrentiy says his people think they might be able to work up an approximation using hydrogen bombs, but that would be a one-shot weapon. Like a mine, not a gun."
"Still, that's something," Pascual said. He finished the last bite of his bagel and searched for a napkin to clean up the crumbs.
"Maybe," Eduard sighed. "That radiation burst still has everyone pretty spooked. Maybe things will look better once things have calmed down and the engineers start figuring out these new toys."
Pascual nodded. He brushed off the last of his breakfast from the front of his coat and rolled up his napkin into a little ball.
"Anyway," Eduard said, "I thought I'd come by one last time before you ship out. You going straight to the airport?"
"No, I'm going to go with the motorcade to pick up Rokden's delegation before heading out."
"All right," Eduard reached across the table to slap Pascual on the shoulder. "I'll meet the two of you at Maiquetia then."
"See you."
Eduard stood up, "Your parents would be proud, Pascual." He turned and left.
Pascual stayed rooted to his seat for several minutes. Eventually his watch beeped at him.
It was time to go.
* * *
Xi Feng looked upwards out of the great observation windows of Quito Station. The tastes of the station's American designers were abundantly clear: the windows use as much transparent material as possible while minimizing support structures or decoration. The result was a much nicer view, but it could be alarming to anyone unused to space travel.
Task Force One hovered in the distance above her. If Xi Feng had been in a movie, the nine warships and their ten support vessels would have been only a few hundred meters away and closely packed so that they would have been visible to the naked eye in all their glory. As it was, only someone as familiar as Xi Feng was with the local starscape could have said which of the many points of light were ships; and even she didn't know which ones actually belonged to her and which were other Earth Fleet units or private vessels.
A soft bell rang out over the station intercom, followed by an equally soft and pleasant voice announcing the arrival of a climber at the terminal. Xi Feng turned away from the windows and focused on preparing herself for the gate to open and let its passengers through. There were no handlebars on the ceiling here—they would have spoiled the view—only some conventional handrails around the edges of the bulbous room. Xi Feng's space shoes—really just heavy socks with rubberized soles—provided some traction on the carpeted floor, but little enough that she had to pay close attention to her movements to avoid floating away. If she did that, one of the station's strategically placed attendants would launch himself into the air to rescue her, which would just ruin her entire image.
An attendant slid open the door to the passenger gate and then stepped to one side to allow the disembarking passengers through. The people Xi Feng was waiting for were right at the front of the line, and she focused on keeping her back and shoulders steady as they approached.
They were all wearing velcro-soled boots they had received on the climber that allowed them to walk across the carpet in a rough approximation of their usual gravity-assisted method of transport. All except one, that was. Xi Feng was very careful to keep her expression level as the Bat ducked through the gate door at the back of the little group, gripping the floor with his extended toe claws.
Bats were not an uncommon sight on Quito Station. But most of them wore the black berets of merchants or civilian tourists. A few green berets indicating diplomatic personnel were mixed in, mostly consular staff assisting the civilians. Very few Bats that passed through this station wore the blue berets of military officers. Even fewer of them were allowed on board Earth Fleet vessels. Xi Feng had bristled when she'd been told that she was to provide accommodation to such an individual aboard one of her ships. Welcoming a known spy onto an important military asset seemed a phenomenally foolish idea. But Xi Feng had her orders.
The passengers made their way across the terminal to Xi Feng. The Human man who seemed to be the group's leader stopped in front of her and bowed slightly.
"Commodore Lee, I presume?"
His tie came out of his coat as he straightened up and twisted in the microgravity. The man tucked it back into his jacket and smiled, rolling his eyes as if to indicate this wasn't the first time he'd gone through that motion.
Which is what happens when you go into space dressed like you're just visiting the office, she thought.
Instead of saying that, however, Xi Feng smiled and gave a small bow of her own.
"Yes," she said. "And you are Ambassador Molinas, correct?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said, and held out a hand, "a pleasure to meet you."
This was an interesting problem. Molinas' boots would keep him firmly in place through a handshake, but Xi Feng's shoes would not. Refusing to shake his hand would be rude, and although Xi Feng wouldn't mind the personal insult so much, she had a professional reputation to uphold.
These thoughts went through Xi Feng's mind in the half second it took her to reach out and clasp Molinas' hand. "The pleasure is all mine," she said.
Xi Feng pumped his hand curtly. She attempted to perfectly balance the force of her downswing and push her feet back to the floor on the reverse. She almost managed this, but overcorrected just enough to bounce her off the carpet. Rather than awkwardly grabbing onto Molinas' arm for stability or simply allowing herself to float away, however, Xi Feng bent her ankles sharply to push off from the floor with her toes.
* * *
Pascual recoiled as the small woman shot into the air like a dart. He tilted his chin back to follow her flight path. Beside him, Rokden and his two attendants turned their heads to do the same. The Earth Fleet commodore brought her legs forward in a way that caused her to spin backwards, and she landed feet-first on top of the clear ceiling, bending her knees to absorb the impact. Pascual's head continued to spin even after Commodore Lee had stopped.
"Hello everyone," Lee said, without rising out of her upside-down crouch. "Welcome to Quito Station. I'm Commodore Lee, commanding Task Force One, which makes me your host for the foreseeable future. There's a shuttle waiting for us at the docking terminal, and if no one objects I suggest we save the personal introductions until we're all strapped in."
She paused, but not really long enough for anyone to actually object.
"Please follow me," she said. And then she leapt from the ceiling back to the floor, spinning and landing at a spot near a handrail at the end of the terminal. She stood up straight again to await everyone else.
Hyong Yaheek leaned forward from behind Pascual. "I like her," he said.
Pascual sighed. He turned to the Tadpole delegation and gestured towards their Earth Fleet host.
"If you please, Ambassador."
Rokden nodded, and the five of them started forward to catch up with the commodore. When they reached her, she turned to lead them into the central concourse of Quito Station.
The last time Pascual had been here—the only other time he'd been in space at all—had been nearly 11 years ago. Pascual had only just joined the OES' diplomatic corps and he'd been forced to join the delegation which received Ambassador Hyarahek at the Bat's first arrival on the station. Hyarahek had been noticeably snobbish even then, but he had at least pretended to respect his Human hosts.
The concourse hadn't changed much since that time—its designers had planned for the long term—but it was much busier. Trade between Earth and the Bats was only just starting to take off in 2062. Now there were shuttles departing every hour or two for Bat freighters waiting in orbit. Crewmen and station workers wandered around looking for food, entertainment, or simple rest between shifts. Most of them walked around using the same velcro boots as the handful of tourists.
The Bat colony on Titan kept up a small but steady demand for a handful of Earth's agricultural products like coca leaves, processed chocolate, and frozen chickens. The Bats seemed to have a voracious appetite for chickens and other Earth fowl. As Earth's ability to export commercial products off planet had grown, Bat consumption had even led to a noticeable increase in the price of chicken. It was significant enough that some OES members had actually talked about capping exports to keep down the domestic price of meat. No one had tried it yet, however, and Pascual doubted anyone ever would. Bat currency was the single most valuable product traded on Earth ever. Which was why something around a tenth of Earth's entire merchant space fleet was owned by Tyson Foods.
The other large component of the station's population was off-duty Earth Fleet personnel, either on leave from the ships of First Fleet or part of Quito Station's own complement. The military balked at the idea of restricting themselves to the floor, but bounced and soared around the station in all three dimensions. Pascual thought this had to be terribly frustrating for the station attendants who had to discourage tourists from imitating the behavior, and for the people who had to clean the windows smudged by so many feet and hands.
A pair of Bat tourists flew overhead, taking advantage of their wings for extra mobility. They flipped over and attempted to land on the ceiling near a few Earth Fleet spacers, then squawked when they couldn't find a foothold. They bounced right off the glass and spun around haphazardly as they tried to recover their bearings. A couple of station attendants watched the two Bats, but made no move to help. No one wanted to risk laceration injuries from the claws of a panicked Bat. Eventually the tourists got themselves back under control and flapped their way back to the floor, chastened.
Hyong hissed something in his own language behind Pascual, probably some sort of embarrassed mutter.
He, Pascual, and the three Tadpoles continued on in Commodore Lee's wake. She wasn't wearing velcro boots either, but still managed to keep a firm enough grip on the carpet to slide across it with just her shoes. Pascual wouldn't have wanted to try that himself.
As they walked, Pascual felt his stomach begin to churn again. The sensation lasted only a few seconds, however, before his implants released another dose of anti-nausea drugs into his bloodstream. His discomfort faded. The implants were something that Pascual had not had 11 years ago. He wasn't going to miss the vomiting.
The Commodore led the delegation to one of the military docking terminals. Earth Fleet personnel shuttles still accounted for most of the human traffic through Quito station, with spacers constantly transferring among various postings.
A small honor guard of station attendants and Earth Fleet spacers was waiting at their gate. Two of the three spacers were enlisted men and it took Pascual a moment to recognize their rank insignia—almost all of the Fleet's groundside personnel were full officers. The Chief Petty Officer and Spacer Apprentice—both men—were accompanied by a young Lieutenant who looked like she had just graduated from the Academy yesterday. All three of them saluted when Commodore Lee stopped the delegation in front of the gate. Beside them, three station attendants smiled and bowed politely.
Commodore Lee returned the salute—an exaggerated and jerky nod that required no hands. She was the shortest person in the entire group, but also very clearly the one in charge. She turned around.
"Ambassadors," she said, and gestured to her colleagues behind her. "This is my adjutant, Lieutenant Muyskens. She'll be the one responsible for seeing to your needs during our mission, so if you ever have any questions or requirements that your immediate attendants can't provide, feel free to contact her."
Pascual smiled at the girl—she had to be in her early twenties but she still looked sixteen. Muyskens didn't seem to notice him; however, she was too busy staring at the Tadpoles.
"And these," Commodore Lee stepped aside, "Are Chief Engels and Spacer Apprentice Mohammed. They'll be our pilots for the hop to the Barn Swallow. Theirs is one of two personnel shuttles in Task Force One, so you'll probably be seeing a lot of them."
The Commodore bowed slightly, and Chief Engels stepped forward. He clapped his hands together and then addressed the group, "Welcome everyone, your personal cargo has already been stowed aboard, so we can leave just as soon as all of you are strapped in. The transfer to the Swallow takes around twenty minutes, but it's going to take Quito control about ten minutes to clear a path for us from the time we tell them that we're ready to go. So the sooner everyone's aboard, the sooner we'll have you to your destinations." The Chief smiled like he hadn't just told everyone to hurry up.
Pascual decided that he was probably the closest thing the assortment of representatives had to a spokesperson. "Thank you, Chief," he said. "Please, show us the way."
The Chief nodded respectfully and held out his hands to point at the door which would lead into the airlock joining the station with their shuttle. The nine of them would have to go through the airlock cycle, but that was just a safety precaution; they wouldn't have to undergo any pressure changes.
Because the elevator at Quito station was Earth's first and was still the largest and most extensively used, it had set a lot of standards for Human space travel, including pressure. Air pressure on the orbital component of the station was the same as at the base station: slightly below normal pressure at sea level. There were a few reasons for that, but the primary one given by the station's private operators was simply to minimize the risk of airtight containers becoming crushed or exploded during travel. Since Quito was the hub of Earth Fleet's space infrastructure, the Fleet had quickly adopted Quito standard pressure aboard all of its own vessels for ease of operations.
That decision had ultimately forced the standard on the other two major elevator stations as well. When it first opened, Singapore station operated at the sea level pressure of its ground station, but made the switch after about a year when it became clear that they were serving more Fleet spacers than local tourists. The Kampala elevator simply used Quito pressure from the beginning since it was a less dramatic difference and because its government operators were happy enough to have the elevator at all, and didn't care so much about the details. Only the Maldives elevator still used sea level atmosphere, but that was a relatively tiny installation operated by the Indian government for its own purposes.
The airlock was big enough to hold twenty people simultaneously—more than the shuttle itself could seat. But since each of the three Tadpoles was both wider and thicker than the average Human while Hyong was no mouse either, it was a cramped fit inside the chamber. After a moment Pascual forced himself to admit that he was probably taking up more than his fair share of space, too. But only just a little.
"Now," Chief Engels said as they waited for the airlock to cycle, "I understand that our Tadpole guests have already travelled aboard one of our shuttles. But for those of you that have not, I shou—"
The Chief stopped abruptly and his eyes bulged a little. Pascual tilted his head, unable to figure out what was going on.
"I'm sorry," the Chief said in a more subdued tone. He turned to the Tadpoles, "That was rude of me; I've realized that I don't know how I should be referring to your species. I hope that you won't take offense at my error."
"Not at all," Rokden said, and Engels relief was visible. "We have heard this label, and it is acceptable, much better than some alternatives."
All three Tadpoles rotated their heads to look at Hyong. The Bat bared his teeth at them. His wings remained still, however, so Pascual concluded it was probably a friendly smile rather than any sort of threat.
Pascual looked back in time to see Commodore Lee finish mouthing something to the Chief. Engels nodded, "I am glad hear it, though I will strive to be more considerate in the future. Anyway, as I was saying, for those of you who haven't been in one of our shuttles before," and now he turned to look at both Pascual and Hyong, "be aware that there aren't any velcro surfaces, so your boots—or, ah, claws—won't be as much use. There'll be bars across the ceiling for you to hold onto and propel yourself around," he patted a bar near the outer door. "For your own safety, go easy when you're first moving with them. It's pretty easy to go too fast and break a toe or give yourself a concussion when you're new at this."
Pascual nodded his acknowledgment to the spacer. Engels looked around at everyone one more time before nodding back in approval. A buzzer announced that the cycle was finished. Pascual found the Chief's perfect timing suspicious. Engels released the hatch to clear the way into the shuttle.
Earth Fleet's personnel shuttles were essentially tubes with a standard docking port at both ends and thrusters, sensors, and cargo modules wrapped around the outside. There was a single aisle through the center ending at the hatches, and the seats were built into the walls on either side. The shuttles could be docked end-to-end in a chain to move large numbers of people through a single docking port. The two pilots' seats were at the front of the aisle, with control surfaces and monitors on the wall in front.
Engels went through first to strap into his seat and begin his pre-flight checks. Commodore Lee followed him, and the Tadpoles went in next, all of them reached their seats and began strapping in without much trouble. Hyong went in after the Tadpoles, with Pascual and Lieutenant Muyskens behind. Spacer Apprentice Mohammed brought up the rear so that he could close the hatch behind them. Hyong reached his seat easily, but had to pause and consider his actions from there. Pascual, however, had difficulty getting the hang of pulling himself along the handlebars. He couldn't figure out what to do with his legs without an anchor, and he nearly kicked the Bat in front of him several times. After a moment, Mohammed finished sealing up the rear hatch and helped Pascual settle into his seat.
"Got it!" Pascual said once he was finally strapped in, and the Spacer Apprentice chuckled. Pascual knew that he was going to be a total klutz in space, but he hoped to at least keep a good sense of humor about it. He looked around and smiled at the other passengers already secured in their seats. The Tadpoles had to turn awkwardly into the back pads in order for the seats to accommodate their bulk, but if the position was uncomfortable, they showed no outward signs of it.
"All right," Spacer Apprentice Mohammed said from the front of the aisle next to his own position. Chief Engels was busy tapping away at controls and let his copilot continue. "Now, safety-wise, you shouldn't have a lot to worry about. There are emergency pressure bubbles at both hatches and oxygen masks above each of your seats. Those aren't like the ones on airliners, though," he looked at Pascual, "they're not going to drop down automatically. If there is any sort of emergency, then I strongly suggest that all of you just stay in your seats and let the Commodore, Lieutenant, Chief, and me deal with everything for you. If it's a slow leak from a micrometeoroid we'll have plenty of time to secure all of you, probably even to patch it up. And anything worse than that's more likely to just kill all of us before we notice."
Pascual wasn't sure how comforted he felt by that information. But the Spacer Apprentice smiled, "Don't worry about it, though. Our shuttles have a way better safety record than the jet liner all of you took to the base station." He patted the hull of the little ship, and then sat down in his seat to strap in.
Pascual wasn't sure how comforted he felt by that information, either. But he didn't dwell on it for long. Chief Engels turned away from his monitors and leaned into the aisle to grin at everyone.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I'd like to welcome you aboard Earth Fleet shuttle tee-eff-one-dash-one, or Taffy Eleven as I think we'll be calling her for a while. It seems that Quito control is giving us the VIP treatment today and we are cleared for immediate departure. How about that?" he winked, and then turned back around. "Passengers may want to hold onto the handlebars to prepare for our maneuvering burns, which begin in… ten seconds… nine…"