The comm rang.
Rang again.
Rang again.
A finger tapped the green circle on the comm. The ringing stopped. A voice on the other end of the comm yelled a name and began a vitriolic verbal version of the deluge of Noah.
“Please,” the finger’s owner said, in a voice calculated to be just calm enough that it would enrage the other speaker further, “slow down, after you count to ten, or I will hang up.”
The flow of invective stopped. After a brief pause, it started again. Slower, and grating enough that the anger and frustration still flowed through. “Austin!” shrieked the female voice after nearly half-a-minute of barely controlled verbiage, “why haven’t you called me?”
“Because, Rose, as you may recall, I closed the book on that part of our relationship yesterday.”
“But why, Austin? Why would you choose to break my heart in this way?”
“Rose…”
“I was faithful!”
“Rose…”
“I lost twenty pounds!”
“Rose, I…”
“I even offered to convert to your family’s religion!”
“I did appreciate the offer, Rose. But converting from Azimovian Atheism to Latin Rite Catholicism is not the brave, spectacular and soul-bearing jump-into-the-void you might imagine it to be. No, Rose. As I said, I cannot see myself continuing this relationship for the simple reason that I cannot see myself married to you.”
“Because…because my family is inferior?”
“No, Rose,” he said standing with the comm in his right hand. Walking back to his easel, he picked up the wand in his left hand, and with an experienced set of fingers dialed a particular shade of blue. A servbot silently rose from its space and began tending to the picture, adjusting sections of the lighted virtual easel according to desired shading and other specs tapped into the wand.
Looking out his window, he continued painting the nightscape of the city, adjusting his wand as needed for different colors and watching to make sure his ‘bot carried out his desires. “Rose, despite your substantial improvements, I cannot see us wed because you still have a tendency to be an over-emotional woman who has embarrassed me in public multiple times in front of my family and friends.”
“You care for them more than me?”
“When you put it that way, yes,” he said with a distracted air, tapping a few buttons and having the ‘bot begin filling in the windows of a city skyscraper with white and off-white tones. “They’ve never given me an ultimatum, or made me look silly for my choice of companions. But you did both, and that tells me you aren’t ready to be the wife of any heir of Morgan, much less the one who is going to have to take over the armed forces of our family one day.”
“I did no such thing!”
“I do recall when my brother Huston tried, diplomatically, to assist you regarding the proper way to consume Alderan crab-bites, you suggested he was motivated by a crass desire to embarrass you.”
“He despises me because my family is nova pecunia!”
No, Rose. It’s because you are loud, obnoxious, and unwilling to learn the customs of others whom you wish to associate with. Is there anything else, Rose? This conversation was enjoyable somewhat at first, but it’s now distracting me, making it difficult for me to complete the constellations above my city in my skyline painting.”
Rose paused for exactly three seconds. Evidently, she’d been practicing that much of her etiquette. “I wish your the made your littler frater is!”
“Do tell, Rose. Why is that?”
“Dallas didn’t care about that when it came to his little scortillum! He’s told your Pater to go suck rocks in hades, while he goes to skip offworld with her and your grandfather’s little glowing toothpick! ”
Austin stopped, and pushed a long long of his much-discussed-among-the-eligible-ladies-in-New-Avalon hair behind his ear. “What did you say?” he asked, feeling the triumphant smile she was giving on the other end.
****
“So, you’re going to need your fund early?” said the voice in the ceiling. Dallas was finding himself surprisingly comfortable talking in this way; he’d gotten too used to analyzing someone’s intentions in their face and body language. Now, having neither to read, he could just have a conversation and enjoy it.
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That, he now understood, was a substantial part of the reason he was going to marry Secudis. Wit her, there was no guesswork, no having to discern what was really being asked behind the surface of innocuous questions; just her, and nothing else.
“I’m not supposed to get it until it matures when I’m 65.”
“Lord Morgan is a wise man.”
“How are you able to do this, Pipe, if you don’t mind me asking? Talking to people from the ceiling, that is. It’s actually a little refreshing, but a little odd for me.”
“Understandable. Your brother Huston felt the same way, but he’s gotten used to it. No one in our city does this without revealing themselves anymore, at least on a screen.But I need to, as what I’m about to do is highly illegal and dangerous to both of us. Me, because I’m about to steal from the most powerful man on the planet (even though it’s a sparsely populated planet) and for you, because you’re availing yourself of my services.”
“That makes sense. Can we get on with it? I need to move quickly here.”
“Not a problem…did you want that in paper currency, or blips?”
“Why would anyone ever want paper currency?”
“I assume, Dallas, you plan to run to the periphery? The rim worlds? ‘Paper is Prime’ is a popular phrase there, since a good chunk of the population doesn’t want to be found or traced.”
Dallas thought for a second. “Fine. Maybe- half and half?”
A deep sigh sounded from the ceiling. “It’s your life, young Mister Morgan. But recall that my fee is ten-percent of all I get for you. Still acceptable?”
“Yes. Now?”
“Now, yes. Open the cupboard next to the cooker, would you?” A maglock sounded, opening as soon as Pipe finished speaking.
The space had started humming as soon as Dallas had approached it. Pulling on the handle, the cupboard swung open like any thousands of similar cupboards he’d seen in his life.
Inside were stacks of paper money.
Dallas hadn’t seen much paper money over the course of his life. Paper had more been used by the poorer classes and those who preferred to make their buying and selling as anonymous as possible. Pater had, surprisingly, been fine with this. “It’s a guiding principle of our culture here,” he’d said when the subject was brought up at supper one night, “especially considering Kai and the gendarmes have more than enough resources to catch any mal-doers in the city.”
“But what reason would honest people have for wanting their transactions to be hidden?” Huston had asked.
“Five reasons,” Pater had replied, “They. Don’t. Need. A. Reason,” he’d finished, ticking off each word on his fingers with a voice that had silenced all further debate.
At the time, Dallas still hadn’t seen what was so important about the poor and the governed that he or someone else in charge ought to be banned from all possible interference in their affairs. But now? Now, it made sense.
Paper, agreed upon as legal tender and largely untraceable, was going to be his friend for some time now. His and…
“This is all of it?” he asked.
“Absolutely, Dallas,” said the voice from the ceiling. ‘Cheating clients is bad for business. Count it if you wish. There are sacks below if you’d like to make your wealth portable.”
“You seem pretty prepared for this.”
“You seem to think you’re the first person who’s made this kind of request from me. By the way, you’d best hurry; your family friend Chief Inspector Kai is on the way with his little platoon of knuckle-draggers. I’ve distracted them by sending them to the wrong place- a would -be rival of mine is going to be raided- but even they won’t be fooled by that ruse forever.”
Dallas found a heavy cloth sack with two handles in the cupboard below, and began scooping the wads of cash into it. “Your bag is complimentary,” said Pipe’s voice as Dallas finished, “lined with an old-Earth recipe that thieves used to fool gendarmes for centuries. They called it tin-foil, and it’s quite good at blocking all forms of radiation, from sunlight to scanners.”
“You’re very kind,” Dallas said standing up.
“And you’d best be very gone. You’ve got the better part of a half-million TeeDees there, but if you’re going to leave the system you’ll need to find a place to exchange them. Word to the wise,” Pipe finished as the back door opened on its own.
Dallas hefted the bag. The paper bills weighed a bit, but no more than a backpack with a few books in it would have. “Thank you, Pipe,” he said. “You’re really not what I expected.”
“Nor you; I heard you could be a bit of a twit, but you’re decent enough. You’ve a lot to learn, but that part’s not my job. Now get out so I can lock on my defenses again, and send my goons to their stations.”
Dallas left. The air outside was cool and crisp; they’d ordered fall weather this evening, and Dallas liked it. He looked up and saw the cold, black night that seemed to go on forever, and knew that if he played his hand well he’d be up there before the next sunrise.
Dallas breathed deep and pulled out his com as he started walking down the deserted street, habs lining the way with dark windows and streetlights setting a glowing path for him to follow.
He was about to hit the next name on his plan tonight when the com lit up with the face of the exact person he’d meant to contact. Smiling, Dallas brought the com to his face, the sack slung over his back.
“This is Dallas.”
“Little brother,” Austin’s voice said with mock severity, “I understand you’re causing a bit of trouble tonight.”
“Really? And?”
“And that you need money to do a bunch of more mischief.”
“That’s taken care of.”
“And that there’s a girl involved?”
“Well…”
“You’d better get over here before you wreck everything. Don’t worry, I have your poem ready for her. In your handwriting too.”
“On my way.”
“Get here fast, Dallas.”
“Jackrabbit on coffee.”
“That’s my li’l bro.”
After Dallas hung up, Austin paused a moment to look out his apartment window and sip his coffee from his favorite transparent mug. “He’s on his way,” Austin said.
“See you deliver him,” said Huston’s voice on the other line.
“You don’t think it’s unfair?”
“Fair? Unfair? Who cares? It’ll work.”
****
To Be Continued…