Every Man's Fantasy Ch. 28

"I'd like to speak to your brother, Ezra. In fact, I thought I sent the hyperspace comms request to him."

"You did, but the receiver is in my study at home. I had the calls forwarded here to my office. I'll patch you through to his personal communicator."

"Thank you, Doctor Goldrick. It's been a pleasure talking to you."

"Likewise, Viktor."

The holographic image of Viktor flickered and evaporated over Danielle's desk. At Viktor's end, the image of Danielle morphed into an image of her brother, who was at lunch with his bedmates in his apartment.

"Mister Goldrick, excuse my interruption. Is it convenient to talk?"

"It's very convenient, Mister Bogdanov," Ezra said, taking his communicator to the study. "Thanks for calling me. Is it about the crystal laminates?"

"Precisely so. Did Hazel and Sam tell you I'm the proud owner of your useful new technology?"

"Not yet but I'm glad to hear it."

"They were very persuasive."

"I'm glad to hear that, too."

"I've transferred you the money and placed an order with the space factory near Argus. You should get your laminate sheets by the end of next week."

"Many thanks, Mister Bogdanov."

"Call me Viktor. May I call you Ezra?"

Ezra agreed with a smile.

"The girls told me you need the money for a medical pod," Viktor went on.

"Yes, for rejuvenation therapies, to combat the life-shortening effects of cloning on Samothea."

"Is it something I can help you with?"

"We need a stock of materials for medical nanobots and to miniaturise the medical technology."

"I can help with the nanobots. If you'll send me the specifications, I'll see you get a good price."

"Thank you. I'm very grateful for your support for the Samothea Company, Viktor, and the population of Samothea."

"Your sister was also grateful. I told her I intend to profit from my interest."

"I wouldn't expect anything else, though I'm not sure how you'll make any money. Neither Danielle, Eva nor I expect to recoup more than a fraction of what we've spent. How can you see profit in Samothea where we can't?"

"Other than selling settlement plots to Earthers?"

"Other than that."

"Of course, if I told you, then I'd lose my advantage."

Viktor said this with a wink that showed Ezra there was no benefit to asking further. It would remain a mystery for now why Viktor invested in a planet that had no clear sources of income.

Smiling again, Ezra closed the comms channel.

******

The headquarters of the settler company, Outworld Ventures, was on the top floor of a high-rise office building in downtown Los Angeles. Not too high-rise, however, because even with flexible plastisteel construction and energy-storing dampeners between every floor, the threat of a really big earthquake could never be ignored.

Andrew Claydon stood in an office that contained a long table and twelve chairs. There was a big display screen on the one of the walls. The other three walls were windows with views over the city. It was a bright sunny day. The city gleamed with plastisteel and glass. Standing at a window, waiting for the meeting to begin, Andrew could have seen for 50 miles or more across the extended city, through its clean smogless air, to the distant snow-capped mountains.

On one side of the table were six executives from Outworld Ventures, four men and two women. Andrew used to work with some of them before he became the general manager of the Samothea Company.

On his side of the table were two women from Bereded Samuel Partners, accountants to the Samothea Company. There was also a lawyer, an Earth-based colleague of the Samothea Company's lawyer, Paul Kessler, who was to join the meeting later by holoprojection via the hyperspace comms links to Celetaris.

The man opposite Andrew had silver hair and a genial smile. His name was Malcolm Sedgewick. Malcolm had presided over scores of meetings with Andrew in the last few months to plan the transfer of the planet Samothea from the settler company to the Samothea Company. Now a week of meetings was scheduled to agree the wording of a final contract for the services that Outworld Ventures would provide to the planet. An official handover ceremony would follow.

"Good morning, everyone," Malcolm said, sitting down. "Well, we're nearly there, aren't we? Just the matter of new settlers to discuss, which has come up multiple times in our discussions but is now the only sticking-point. Is that right?"

"It is," Andrew agreed, taking his seat. "Everything else is agreed."

"So if we can tie the final knots of the contract this week, then the Samothea Company will be legal owners of Samothea. For the record, Outworld Ventures will be the sole service provider for security, technology, medical treatments, domestic mammals, other fauna and flora, friction-free trade-routes, and the initial vetting of candidates for settlement."

"With the exception that the Samothea Company and the women of Samothea have the final say on potential immigrants."

"Quite so, Andrew, and with the exception to your exception that the first nearly-1,500 settlers have already been chosen by us. I hope you have no reason to ask for a change in their status? They are, after all, relatives of the 3,000 settlers from the first transport ship to Samothea 100 years ago, which was unfortunately lost."

"We don't want to change their status as settlers, Malcolm, but Outworld Ventures offered to recognise the expired claims of the original lost settlers as a good will gesture to keep Earthside politicians friendly, but from what I can tell, Earth is not being particularly friendly to Samothea. Also, if you are only the service provider to Samothea, then you will be one-step removed from our problems with less need to placate Earth."

"This is true, but Samothea is technically in breach of Anglosphere law in regard to Ezra Goldrick's polygamy, which makes acceptance into the Anglosphere impossible."

"That's one issue, but Earth is using it to press for wanton immigration to Samothea. We cannot agree to wanton immigration."

"Without free trade and the other benefits of Anglosphere membership, Samothea will be in an even worse position than it is already. Settlers there will face a primitive living standard as it is. How much worse would it be if you were cut off from the Anglosphere, besides the problem of paying for the services we are contracted to supply? Selling even more settlement plots will be the only source of income."

"None the less, we're worried about the impact of almost 1,500 people - more than 1,000 of them men - on the lives of the 150 women of Samothea. They are our first concern."

"Even at the expense of living standards? The lifespan on Samothea is currently half that of the Anglosphere. Would the native women give up all medical advances for the sake of stopping immigration, when immigration would benefit them?"

"They are sceptical of the benefits of immigration if it reduces the status of native women and destroys their culture. Besides, it's their planet now, or soon will be. It's their choice."

"Is that the opinion of all the women of Samothea?"

"No. Some women want no settlers at all, except those they invite. Some want both male and female settlers; some want only female settlers; and some want the compromise I proposed to Madam Gloria and the governing council."

"Will you explain your compromise again, for the record?"

"I propose making the currently-inhabited region of the planet a national park in which only native Samotheans are permitted to live. The 1,500 new settlers will receive plots of the same size as their ancestors' originals but outside the national park. Any future settlers will also live outside the national park.

"In effect, the inhabited continent will have a large area where the women of Samothea can rule themselves. My aim is to protect the native women of Samothea, who are naïve and simple, easily exploited by unscrupulous people from more dynamic and commercial societies."

"You've told the women of Samothea that even in their national park, they will never be completely protected from outside influence?"

"I have. I hope my plan will satisfy Danielle Goldrick's promise to the women of Samothea that they should have control over applicants for settlement on the planet, even if they cannot veto all the 1,500 settlers to whom Outworld Ventures has already promised land."

"So we can see the task," Malcolm Sedgwick concluded. "We need to steer a path between the wanton immigration that Earth wants, the complete but unfeasible veto on settlement that Danielle Goldrick wants, and your compromise. And the problem for both of us is that Anglosphere authorities may exclude Samothea regardless of which policy we choose, due to its breach of the polygamy law. Is that how you see it, Andrew?"

"Yep, that's about the size of it."

"Well then, down to work."

7 Betrayal

There were two more weeks before the spring term began at the Celetaris Institute for Science, so Tatiana gave the girls another prospecting lesson, taking them to a dwarf planet orbiting an average star where they could practise emergency procedures and their piloting skills.

They tried landing on soft sand and slippery ice, on crusty granite and in a shallow sea. They practised close steering with the caesium ion drive when the chemical rockets failed. They did emergency hyperspace jumps to the safety point by dead-reckoning.

They learned what chemical mixtures put out fires and what ones made it worse. What to do to stay warm in a cold dead ship. Where to brace themselves for impact if they were not in their piloting chairs.

They went outside the ship to perform inspections in their normal spacesuits, with a supply of oxygen, battery-powered tools, and gas rockets for manoeuvring. They learned to perform repairs with plasma torches and laser drills in the heavy engineering spacesuit, with a pipeline to the ship carrying power, comms and the air supply.

The girls learned how to attach an airline between two spacesuits to share air and battery power, or how to get life support from an emergency buoy released from the ship to aid a stranded astronaut.

Tatiana taught the girls breathing techniques and exercises to control their fear in a spacesuit when the air was running out. When they were ready, she sent them out of the airlock in the engineering spacesuit and cut the pipeline.

Hazel went first, with Wildchild ready to pull her in on the tether if necessary. Hazel did not panic, though she breathed more quickly than she had done when practising, using up her oxygen at twice the normal rate. Pulled back in, she emerged from the spacesuit covered in sweat. Wildchild did just as well. Tatiana said they would both do better with more experience.

As she taught them, Tatiana sometimes barked commands in Russian. Wildchild's perfect memory stored everything. She already had an assortment of Russian words. She translated through hand-signals to Hazel.

It was all good education and the girls loved learning. It gave a boost to their confidence and cemented forever their respect for their teacher.

Having worked hard all week, rising early for drills and staying up late for lessons on emergency procedures, the girls were exhausted, so they snatched sleep when they could. On the last night before they planned to return to Celetaris, Tatiana let them go to bed early and catch up on their rest.

Two hours after they put their heads down, they were jolted awake by wailing alarms and flashing lights. A warning in Russian sounded.

"Chrezvychaynaya situatsiya. Ogon' v tryume."

"Emergency situation," Wildchild translated. "Fire in the hold."

"Computer," Hazel commanded, "speak English."

"Ya ne ponimayu tebya, " the computer said.

"It doesn't understand."

"Tell it to speak English."

"Govorit' na angliyskom, " Wildchild said.

"Ya ne ponimayu tebya, " the computer repeated.

By now the girls had pulled on their flight suits and were performing the emergency checks.

Wildchild spoke to the computer in faulting Russian, trying to learn the extent of the fire and its cause. The answer was unclear. She shut off the computer's warnings and the flashing alarms. Hazel checked that the hatches through the bulkheads were sealed.

The ship was in four parts. First was the hold with the engine behind; then the galley and rec room; the girls were in the living quarters with the bunks, crappers and showers; and at the front was the bridge with the piloting console and navicoms system. A small chemistry lab was accessed through a sealed hatch from the living quarters.

There were airlocks to the outside in the bridge and the hold, and there were emergency escape pods in the living quarters, galley, bridge and hold.

"Where's Tatiana?" Hazel asked.

Wildchild tapped the computer display.

"She's not on the bridge, in the lab or the galley. The hold's cameras are burnt out or show only smoke."

Hazel looked in the crappers and showers.

"She's not here. She must be in the hold or outside. How serious is the fire?"

"I can't tell," Wildchild said, "but it hasn't shut off power or life-support yet."

"Why haven't the fire extinguishers put it out?"

"I don't know, but the computer won't give me control of the hold. If I could open a hatch, then the air would vent into space and starve the fire of oxygen."

"Only if it's a regular fire. But putting it out is our first priority. Maybe we can do it from here."

"Do you have a plan?"

"We can make nitrogen gas in the laboratory and pipe it into the hold through a hole through the hatch."

"How long to drill a hole in the hatch?"

"Ten minutes. Do you have a quicker way?"

"We could go outside and open the airlock to vent the hold that way."

"How do we get out?"

"Eject an emergency escape pod and go out through the hatch."

"We'd lose all the air in here."

"We'd both have to be in our spacesuits."

"Can we get to the bridge and exit through an airlock?"

"The computer won't let me open the hatches. We can do it manually but we don't know life support status outside this section of the ship."

"Your plan is the quickest," said Hazel. "Let's get in our suits and eject the escape pod."

The power died on the ship and the lights went off.

As they calmly made for their spacesuits by the light of their laser penknives, the voice of Tatiana came over the ship's speakers.

"Well done, girls! It was the test."

The lights came on and the door hatches released. Tatiana walked through from the hold.

"Did we pass?" Hazel asked.

"Da. You died, but you passed."

Tatiana laughed at the look of incomprehension on the girls' faces.

"Fire was caesium leak from ion drive after hit by ball of ice. Nothing to do except eject engine."

"Yerunda!" Wildchild said.

"How could we tell what the cause was?" Hazel asked.

"Is lesson for next time. You girls pass the test because you do not panic and look for solution. Is brave. Now go back to bed. I take us to Celetaris. Good night: good sleep."

******

It was early morning on Celetaris two days later when the well-rested crew of the prospecting vessel Sunrise disembarked from a shuttlecraft at Ocean City Astroport. They took a costly but well-deserved jetcar ride to Arts City, dropping Tatiana off at her hotel in the city centre, before landing in the suburb where Ed and Rod lived.

The house was silent and dark, so the girls let themselves in. They left their shoes in the hall and tip-toed silently in bare feet along the corridor.

From the mess in the living room, they deduced there had been a party the night before. They crept silently up the stairs, seeking to surprise their boyfriends in bed.

Rod's room was closest. At the door, Hazel kissed Wildchild and sent her in. She put her ear to the door, to listen to Wildchild wake Rod.

"Sam!" she heard him say. "You're back at last! I missed you ..." His voice was cut off because Wildchild jumped on him and planted her mouth on his. Hazel waited a minute, enjoying the sounds of urgent kissing, of clothes being pulled off, and the bed creaking from the weight of two lusty people.

When she heard Wildchild's needy sigh as she made good use of Rod's early morning erection, Hazel smiled happily and walked quietly down the corridor to surprise Ed.

She silently pushed open the bedroom door, where the previous night's party seemed to have continued. The bed was lumpy and dishevelled. There were clothes in a jumbled pile on the floor. Ed's curly brown hair poked out of the thick duvet. One of his legs dangled over the side of the bed.

Hazel snuck up to him and gently stroked his hair.

"Wake up, I'm back," she whispered.

Ed turned in his sleep and Hazel pulled back the duvet, preparing to climb in. There was a smooth thin arm lying over Ed's chest. Hazel pulled the duvet all the way back. The arm was attached to the elegant shoulder of a girl with tousled brunette hair.

Hazel could not speak. She could not breathe. The girl turned and snuggled up to Ed. Hazel saw her face. It was Angie, Ed's old girlfriend. She was naked.

Hazel felt hot tears in her eyes and a lump in her throat. It muffled her scream. She ran blindly out of the room, hiding her face in her hands. The door slammed against the wall, waking Ed.

"Hazel?" he said in a half-asleep voice.

"Hmm?" Angie said. "Morning, Ed."

"Angie? ... Was Hazel here?"

"Hmm?"

"Oh, God! Hazel!"

Ed jumped out of bed and ran down the corridor in his boxers, calling out: "Hazel! Hazel!"

He got downstairs to the open front door and looked down the street. He saw no sign of her. Not sure if he dreamed or if it was real, he ran back to his room, found his clothes and quickly dressed.

Angie had gone back to sleep. He shook her awake, none too gently.

"Was Hazel just in here?"

"Hmm?"

"Wake up, Angie. Was Hazel here?"

"Hazel, who?"

"Hazel, my girlfriend. Was she here?"

She stared at him.

"Put your clothes on and get out," he commanded, giving up on her.

Ed ran down the corridor and knocked at Rod's door.

"Rod, mate. Did Hazel and Sam come back this morning?"

There was no answer but he heard noises. He put his ear to the door. They were sounds of a man and a woman.

"Oh, God! Oh, God!" he said.

He grabbed his coat from the hallway and rushed into the cold grey street. He ran all the way to Student House and woke Yael up. She was alone. He ran to Danielle's apartment and knocked feverishly on the door. Then he tried Ezra's flat. Hazel was in neither place.

He ran along the streets calling her name but saw no sign of her.

After an hour, he was back at his house. Wildchild and Rod had showered and were resting, wrapped in towels, still buzzing from their sexual exertions. This time they heard Ed's frantic rapping at their door. He came in.

"It's Hazel," he said, speaking in a kind of panic. "She came into my bedroom and woke me, but - oh God! - I don't know how - but Angie was there."

"Where?"

"In my bed."

They stared at him, one in shock, one in anger.

"Now she's gone. I've been looking for her. Please, you've got to help me find her!"

Wildchild could not look at him. She threw off the towel not caring if he saw her naked. She dressed quickly, saying to Rod:

"I'll find her."

"I'll help you," Ed said.

"Rod, tell him to stay here. We'll find her," Wildchild said with gritty determination.

The people Ed had woken up in his frantic search for Hazel were in the street outside when Wildchild and Rod came down. They split into teams to search.

Yael went to the conference centre. Its maintenance gallery was a favourite place for the girls to sit enjoying the view over the main auditorium. It was a place to hide and be alone, though it was a place for happiness, not somewhere to be angry or heartbroken.