Bits of catalyst, p.15
Bits of Catalyst, page 15
“That was the most beautiful planet we’ve visited,” Sarah said. “I wonder why she left.”
“You can ask her. I can see she’s working behind the counter.”
The alien chopping vegetables looked a bit like an actress who’d spent a few months in the gym bulking up for an action role and then had her nose broken at least twice during production. She was still beautiful, but not in the unearthly way that marked Vergallian royals.
“Rayne,” Bindaal greeted Sarah’s mother by name in flawless English. “Are you bringing me a customer?”
“She’s a big fan of Vergallian Vegan,” Rayne told the owner. “You’ll have to be on your best to match what she’s used to from Flower.”
“I have a friend who runs a finishing school on Flower, and she said that there were two chefs on board who had earned their imperial certification,” Bindaal said, pointing at her own plaque with her chef’s knife. “Two’s company, three’s a crowd.”
“Is that why you opened on the Miklat?” Sarah asked.
“It was recommended to me. And may I recommend a tasting course to you?”
“Yes, please,” Rayne said. “I’ve been told that Vergallian chefs do their best work when there aren’t any constraints put on them by their customers.”
“That might be a slight overstatement, but there’s no question that it’s frustrating filling orders for a Human who wants a Queen’s Special without the gloves or slippers.”
“That means no carrots or celery, right?” Sarah asked.
“I can see I have an expert on my hands,” Bindaal said, and gave the girl a wink. “You’re welcome to watch me work, or you can take a table and I’ll bring it out. Lunch is still slow,” she added as she began chopping celery at a machine-gun tempo. “I’m afraid most Humans have a negative impression of Vergallian Vegan fare due to encountering poor imitations while traveling.”
Rayne was surprised to learn that her daughter knew at least a few dozen Vergallian words related to the cuisine. “Don’t tell me,” she said, after recovering from the shock of Sarah identifying a root vegetable resembling a parsnip as being imported specially from the Empire of a Hundred Worlds. “Flower gave you a lecture about Vergallian Vegan every time she served it.”
“Not Flower, Avisia,” Sarah corrected her with a giggle.
“I knew I recognized your accent,” Bindaal said. “You couldn’t have a better teacher for Vergallian pronunciation or vegan preparation.”
When the delicious meal was finished, Rayne felt full without feeling guilty about stuffing herself, since it was all raw vegetables and salad stuff. “I hope you can make a go of it,” she told Bindaal after paying. “I couldn’t help noticing that no other customers came in while we were here.”
“It’s a mature taste,” the chef told her. “I wouldn’t have set up here if I hadn’t heard that you were expecting your population to double, with the majority of the newcomers being in their middle age or older.”
“I just heard about that this morning, but I don’t think they plan to remain on board permanently.”
“No, and I don’t imagine I will either. I think that—Kyor?”
The Huktra, who had been keeping her eyes on the aluminum keg she was noisily rolling through the food court, looked up in surprise.
“Bindaal? Are you here on business?”
“Not your business, if that’s what you’re worried about,” the Vergallian said. “As far as the administration on Aarden is concerned, the collectors who overpaid for your works because of your relation to Myort have themselves to blame. Of course, you’d do well to avoid the planet for the next century or two.”
Kyor stood the keg on end so it wouldn’t roll off and then went over to the counter and examined the various plaques and certificates. “I didn’t know you were a chef.”
“And I only found out that you’ve gone into the tavern business when a mutual acquaintance dropped by yesterday.”
“We have to get going,” Rayne said, having the feeling that she and Sarah were suddenly in the way. “Thank you again for the meal, and I hope you do well with our temporary population.”
Sarah remained quiet for almost twenty minutes as her mother stopped by every open booth to reiterate the warning about the Miklat’s population doubling. Rayne could tell from her daughter’s expression of intense concentration that the girl was trying to figure something out.
“Do aliens all know each other because they live so long?” Sarah finally asked her mother.
“What makes you think that?”
“Every time I meet an alien, it turns out that they know all of the other aliens I’ve met.”
“The Miklat’s population is practically all humans or Zarents, so it’s not surprising the remaining aliens are aware of each other.”
“But they always seem to know each other from before,” Sarah said. “Maybe they’re all in business together.”
“It’s possible,” Rayne said. “I don’t remember if you learned this yet in school, but it turns out that most members of advanced species live amongst themselves, and they only see aliens in holographic entertainment or if they take an off-world vacation.”
“Flower explained that once when she substituted. She said that even on Stryx stations, most of the aliens tend to stick to their own decks and shop in their own markets.”
“So maybe the aliens you’ve met on Flower and the Miklat are here for business reasons, like Belle and her reporting for Gem Today.”
“I thought Belle was a spy,” Sarah said. “Maybe they’re all spies.”
“I suppose they could all be here to keep an eye on humanity,” Rayne said slowly. “But I know that the tunnel network runs on trade. The advanced species seem to have agreed on specialties, at least when it comes to exports, and combined with tourism, that gives them a reason to maintain diplomatic contact and get along with each other.”
“I thought the faster-than-light tunnels were what kept the members together.”
“Only because they use the tunnels for transporting goods at discounted rates and for tourism. All the advanced species have jump ships that they can use to reach other worlds in their empires, or anywhere else they dare to go. The tunnel network makes travel and transportation more affordable, plus the treaty means that the members don’t have to spend as much on their militaries as they would otherwise. Someday, when the Human Empire takes over responsibility for humanity, it will have to start building a fleet to contribute to the shared defense of the tunnel network.”
“But all the ones I’ve met are friendly,” Sarah said. “Are there other aliens who hate everybody? We never learn about those in school.”
“I’m not sure that your sample size is big enough to draw any sweeping conclusions,” Rayne said with a smile. “Some of the Horten pirates who used to stop at Bits weren’t very nice, but they behaved while they were visiting because we offered safe haven and had nothing worth stealing.”
Twelve
“Kruik,” Delphi said as she stared at the holographic representation of a cross-section of the cylindrical hold. “Are all of the containers your bots are bringing in from the parking orbit destined for dynamic warehousing?”
“Approximately twelve percent of them are packed with non-perishable foodstuffs that will partially offset the demands that the transient population would otherwise make on our agricultural production. First Agronomist Miklat has done an outstanding job increasing our crop yields in the last ten months, but feeding another twenty-five-thousand mouths would have stressed the system.”
“Are the rest full of household goods shipped by the migrants?” Delphi asked. She watched as the cargo bots, working in pairs, delivered container after container to the gantry cranes distributed around the Miklat’s core. “Four hundred containers doesn’t seem like much.”
“According to the bills of lading, less than half of the remaining containers are filled with personal items,” Kruik said. “Each container of household goods holds the property of more than a hundred individuals. It’s mainly souvenirs, kitchenware, cold-weather clothing, sporting goods, entertainment systems, and decorative pieces. Most workers never buy furniture because the housing provided to them under the contract was fully furnished. And all the clothes and personal items the migrants will be needing in coming weeks are packed in their regular baggage and coming up with the transports.”
“I guess it was the same with us when we left Bits,” Delphi said. “Is the rest of the cargo a secret?”
“It’s primarily nonperishable food for delivery to the same location.”
“And Flower really hasn’t told you where we’re going yet?”
“Apparently, I don’t have a need to know,” Kruik said. “I’m impressed with Flower’s information discipline.”
Delphi watched the ballet of bots and cranes for several more minutes before venturing, “I know we’re under time pressure, but I think I could have preprogrammed the load-in.”
“The only reason I didn’t provide you with all of the parameters before we came out of the tunnel is that I didn’t have them myself,” the Dollnick AI said. “Flower neglected to tell me about the containers waiting in parking orbit, so I assumed the migrants were bringing all their goods with them on the transports. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the opportunity to prove yourself, but time was of the essence.”
“Are you going to extend a docking arm or do one of those tricks with atmosphere retention fields to bring the people over? I can’t believe that transports that big would be able to land in a colony ship’s core.”
“They could enter Flower’s core, but her dimensions are larger than the Miklat’s. Once the containers are all on board, the first transport will dock axially, and the passengers will disembark at deck level.”
“I’ve never seen that,” Delphi said. “Do you mean the transport will cover the whole entrance to your core?”
“All large Dollnick vessels built in the last two million years are backward compatible to docking with Class One colony ships. This type provided the original standard,” Kruik told her, with a hint of pride in his artificially generated voice. “Mechanical docking system design is somewhat arbitrary by nature, so it benefits every species to pick a basic design and stick with it.”
“Why isn’t there a single standard for all tunnel network species by this point?”
“If you ask me, it’s because the Stryx are worried that the Dollnicks would end up dominating the market, leading the other members to abandon ship-building.”
“I don’t have any experience with ships built by different species, but I have to admit that the Dollnicks did a good job with the Miklat,” Delphi said, unconsciously ducking as two cargo bots ferried a container directly over the loadmaster station. “Have the transports lifted off from the planet yet?”
“The first one is already in orbit and will dock as soon as the last container has been loaded. The second transport has started boarding passengers, but they won’t depart until I give them an estimated time for the first transport to finish disembarking all the people and their baggage.”
“That’s right, I forgot about the baggage. Will you do it all with bots?”
“The same conveyers we use to transfer bulk ore from mining habitats can be used with any ship that docks axially,” Kruik said. “Our spin imbues the cargo with enough weight to be moved on the belt. The bots are bringing in the last container now, so I’ll notify the first transport to turn over navigational control.”
“You’ll fly it from here?” Delphi asked. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Colony ships and other capital vessels never allow smaller ships to approach under their own control. Too many things can go wrong, even if both navigators are artificial intelligence. It’s the same for orbitals, and most habitats”
“Does Dewey hand over control every time he visits?”
“At both ends, here and back at Flower,” Kruik told her. “And every ship that wants to get close to a Stryx station has to hand over navigational control whether they’re entering the core or not.”
Delphi watched the bots deliver the last cargo container to a crane that immediately disappeared below deck with it. Then she saw the co-captains walking toward her, both wearing uniforms that looked like they dated from sailing ship days on Earth.
“Sabina, Katya,” she greeted them. “What’s with the new threads?”
“Flower sent them over with Dewey a few weeks ago,” Katya said in disgust. “She said we should wear them whenever we pick up large groups to make sure they understand our leadership structure.”
“We refuse to wear the hats,” Sabina added. “They make us look like actresses in some sort of adult holo-entertainment.”
“You know, Flower may have a point,” Delphi said. “You certainly stand out from the crowd.”
“Wait until you see our police force,” Katya said with a sudden grin. “Even though we don’t expect any problems from people who have lived decades on a Dollnick ag world, showing them that we’re prepared seemed like a good idea. Drake picked the uniforms out from a historical catalog and Flower Textiles did the tailoring. I can’t believe how good he makes it look.”
“Hey, don’t forget the coin flip,” Sabina said. “You won Nigel fair and square.”
“I’m not complaining, but it was before I saw Drake in his uniform.”
“You guys flipped a coin to decide which of you would get Nigel?” Delphi asked in disbelief.
“Please keep that to yourself,” Sabina said. “It’s how we always settle these things, just in case the Stryx know something.”
“I don’t see the connection.”
“We flip a programmable cred,” Katya told her. “It’s kind of like asking an oracle when you have a diplomatic implant. Both sides of the coin are programmable so you never know if they get switched mid-flip.”
“The Stryx can always listen in on diplomatic implants,” Sabina explained. “It’s in the end user license agreement. The truth is, the Stryx can probably listen in without the implants, but including it in the license may be their wink-and-a-nod way to let us know that the oracle is on duty.”
“I was planning on getting an implant, but now I’m not so sure,” Delphi said doubtfully.
“Here they come,” Katya said, pointing at the nearest lift tube where a dozen men in blue police uniforms copied from twentieth-century Earth had just emerged. “And there they go. Is Drake making them run for exercise?”
“I bet they’re spreading out around the circumference of the docking deck along the first set of spokes with the lift tubes. Kruik just explained to me that he’s going to spin the transport up to our rotational speed and dock it. I guess it’s big enough to cover the core opening because he said the passengers will be able to walk right off.”
“I’ll be slowing the transport’s angular acceleration, not speeding it up,” Kruik joined the conversation. “They’ll be exiting from the hatches on their outermost deck which just extends past the radius of our core.”
“I thought the outer deck was always a reservoir and it helped shield cosmic radiation,” Delphi said.
“On colony ships, not transports.”
“Drake is the one who stayed behind to show the flag at our lift tube,” Katya said, nudging her sister and pointing to where the police chief was standing at parade rest so that everybody boarding a capsule would have to pass him. “I guess he likes you after all.”
“Do you need me for anything, Kruik?” Delphi asked. “I want to talk to some of the people when they start getting backed up waiting for the next capsule.”
“If they leave the ship from the designated hatches in the order I give them there shouldn’t be any traffic jams,” the Dollnick Ai replied. “I’ve reserved the front ring of spokes exclusively for disembarking the passengers and getting them to their cabins. With twelve lift tubes, each handling an average of ten passengers and their baggage per capsule, I hope to have the transport cleared in four hours.”
“That’s over three thousand people an hour,” Katya protested. “Twelve tubes, two hundred and fifty people each—oh, I guess that’s less than a capsule every two minutes.”
“Workers from Dollnick ag worlds are all experienced in commuting to and from fields in tube capsules that travel below the planet’s surface to shorten the distance.”
“The Dollnicks have a trick for everything,” Delphi said as the stars visible through the atmosphere retention field at the open end of the Miklat’s core began to wink out. “What’s happening to the stars, Kruik?”
“I’m docking the transport,” the artificial intelligence replied. “Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six, Five, Four, Three, Two—” a gentle shudder ran through the ship, “—that shouldn’t have happened. The transport’s thrusters are badly out of calibration even though they passed the self-test.”
“Any docking we can all walk away from is a good one,” Sabina said. “Come on, Sis. Let’s go try to look like we’re in charge.”
“Have you ever docked a transport as large as that before?” Delphi asked as soon as the twins were out of earshot.
“In the military I docked much larger vessels,” Kruik said. “This could mean a serious delay in our schedule as I’ll have to determine what went wrong before I can bring up the other transport.”
“But you were only off by a second.”
“Even a millisecond would be embarrassing. It’s a good thing I was going slowly since it’s the first time I’ve performed the maneuver on the Miklat.”
Delphi decided that Kruik had enough on his hands without her asking more questions, so she followed the Zerakovas over to the lift tube where Drake had put himself on display.
“Did he say what’s taking the people so long to start disembarking?” Katya asked her.
