Ray Strong's Blog, page 7
January 28, 2016
Finalist! Writers Digest Self-Published e-Book Awards, Genre Fiction
Nice award and words from Writer's Digest ... "In Home: Interstellar by Ray Strong we are presented with a strong blending of genres, a science fiction tale that reads like a pilgrimage with a haunted and haunting female character who combines strength and grace in a way that instantly wins the reader over to her perspective and her values, her every cause. ... The characters here are fully realized, vivid and alive, and often do surprising things - or do / say things that are very human, which can be rare. I especially like Meriel, who wins the reader over early and often and seems fully realized on the page, alive and breathing..." -- Writer's Digest.
December 29, 2015
Recent 5 Star Reviews at Amazon ...
***** (5 stars) Riviting
I could not put this book down. M's search for answers to her past and desire to follow thru with her mother's last wish is humbling.
***** Five Stars
Easy to read, good story. ***** (5 stars) I read it in 2 sittings
I read it in 2 sittings. Strong characters, good story, good writing. Highly recommended.
***** (5 stars) Hart warming
A story of comment to self and to family, a unwavering goal to that comment. From hardship , partials , the path never faltered.***** (5 stars) Fantastic Book
I absolutely loved this book. I read it all night, and finished it a 7:00 a.m. the next morning. I could not put it down. Pirates in Space
If you are a fan of Ender's Game or anything with a combination of space, action and pirates than a great book is Home : Interstellar by Ray Strong. Read more Published 3 months ago by Stephanie Noel ,
***** (5 stars) No. I couldn't wait!I'm only a third of the way through this book and I could not hold back!
This is absolute comparable to the Greats. Like Heinlein, Bradbury,Norton! I'll just say this...If you don't read this terrific sci fi book....
You are missing out!
I could not put this book down. M's search for answers to her past and desire to follow thru with her mother's last wish is humbling.
***** Five Stars
Easy to read, good story. ***** (5 stars) I read it in 2 sittings
I read it in 2 sittings. Strong characters, good story, good writing. Highly recommended.
***** (5 stars) Hart warming
A story of comment to self and to family, a unwavering goal to that comment. From hardship , partials , the path never faltered.***** (5 stars) Fantastic Book
I absolutely loved this book. I read it all night, and finished it a 7:00 a.m. the next morning. I could not put it down. Pirates in Space
If you are a fan of Ender's Game or anything with a combination of space, action and pirates than a great book is Home : Interstellar by Ray Strong. Read more Published 3 months ago by Stephanie Noel ,
***** (5 stars) No. I couldn't wait!I'm only a third of the way through this book and I could not hold back!
This is absolute comparable to the Greats. Like Heinlein, Bradbury,Norton! I'll just say this...If you don't read this terrific sci fi book....
You are missing out!
December 22, 2015
Book 2 - Teaser: Sol System - Mars-6
Peach blossums drifted through the ivy covered gazebo to form a pink blanket on the wooden floor where Ellen Biadez paced. A pink petal drifted onto the shoulder of her iridescent white evening gown and she picked it up and crushed it without thinking. Like the petals, the gazebo’s isolation-blanket let music drift through, music from her first formal party since escaping the sanctuary her husband had arranged for them on Caliope to avoid prosecution in the Haven affair. She had been called from dinner to take an important phone call and brought a small porcelain dish of canapees with her. The thousands of guests would wait and she took another drag on her cigarette.
Leaning against the portal where the structure would still mask her voice, she looked out from the roof-top garden of the Septimus Hotel on Mars-6. The hotel had been built at enormous expense from natural woods, marbles, and plants smuggled from Earth to cover the concrete and steel made from natural Martian sources. It was hers, or rather a piece of it was hers, the rest owned by her silent partners: BioLuna and the ArchTrope of Caliope. She looked past the ivy and the reflecting pool that stretched to the edge of the dome, out onto the sinuous ridges of the Medusae Fossae on the Aeroeolis Plain. Imagining the pulsing capillaries of a heart, she reached out her hand and placed one of the capilarries between her thumb and forefinger and pinched it invisioning the agonizing death of a rival.
She took another drag on her cigarette. When her necklace link buzzed, she tapped the pendant and dropped the cigarette onto the pink blossums leaving the cigarette to burn a scar in the priceless hardwood floor.
“You can talk freely,” she said.
“I tell you they will form a compact unless we intervene,” a man’s voice said.
“How do you know this?”
“EM traffic.”
“Who’s at the heart of it?”
“Enterprise Station and the Station Masters,” he said. “They suspect Earth will lock all the big hubs into the UNE by force using some pretext.”
Ellen shook her head. “Do we have a leak?”
“We don’t think so. No. We suspect a minimax theory prediction of the UNE’s moves, the least—”
“Spare me,” she said and rolled her eyes, not happy to hear her hard work and maneuvering reduced to a statistical probability.
“Sorry. The stations want to anchor their hubs to Haven and screw earth.”
“That’s bad,” she said knowing that fully on quarter of Earth’s raw materials come from the far stations. She lit another cigarette and crushed the peach petals under her feet. A sneer came across her face. “If they are afraid of a pretext, then we cannot wait any longer. Let’s see what that little bitch does with this. Initiate operation Sarajevo.”
“Ahhh… The repercussions of this will be enormous. Please confirm before—”
“Confirming.” She tapped her pendant again and strode back to the dining room. The orchestra began the fanfare as she passed and Ellen Biadez entered the room with a big smile and arms flung wide.
...to be continued ...(c) 2015 B. R. Strong, Jr.
Leaning against the portal where the structure would still mask her voice, she looked out from the roof-top garden of the Septimus Hotel on Mars-6. The hotel had been built at enormous expense from natural woods, marbles, and plants smuggled from Earth to cover the concrete and steel made from natural Martian sources. It was hers, or rather a piece of it was hers, the rest owned by her silent partners: BioLuna and the ArchTrope of Caliope. She looked past the ivy and the reflecting pool that stretched to the edge of the dome, out onto the sinuous ridges of the Medusae Fossae on the Aeroeolis Plain. Imagining the pulsing capillaries of a heart, she reached out her hand and placed one of the capilarries between her thumb and forefinger and pinched it invisioning the agonizing death of a rival.
She took another drag on her cigarette. When her necklace link buzzed, she tapped the pendant and dropped the cigarette onto the pink blossums leaving the cigarette to burn a scar in the priceless hardwood floor.
“You can talk freely,” she said.
“I tell you they will form a compact unless we intervene,” a man’s voice said.
“How do you know this?”
“EM traffic.”
“Who’s at the heart of it?”
“Enterprise Station and the Station Masters,” he said. “They suspect Earth will lock all the big hubs into the UNE by force using some pretext.”
Ellen shook her head. “Do we have a leak?”
“We don’t think so. No. We suspect a minimax theory prediction of the UNE’s moves, the least—”
“Spare me,” she said and rolled her eyes, not happy to hear her hard work and maneuvering reduced to a statistical probability.
“Sorry. The stations want to anchor their hubs to Haven and screw earth.”
“That’s bad,” she said knowing that fully on quarter of Earth’s raw materials come from the far stations. She lit another cigarette and crushed the peach petals under her feet. A sneer came across her face. “If they are afraid of a pretext, then we cannot wait any longer. Let’s see what that little bitch does with this. Initiate operation Sarajevo.”
“Ahhh… The repercussions of this will be enormous. Please confirm before—”
“Confirming.” She tapped her pendant again and strode back to the dining room. The orchestra began the fanfare as she passed and Ellen Biadez entered the room with a big smile and arms flung wide.
...to be continued ...(c) 2015 B. R. Strong, Jr.
December 16, 2015
Home: Interstellar - Merchant Princess is No. 1 Best Seller on Amazon!
Home: Interstellar - Merchant Princess is No. 1 Best Seller on Amazon in
2
categories:
No. 1 in Space Opera
No. 1 in Space Marines.
No. 1 in Space Opera
No. 1 in Space Marines.
Home: Interstellar - Merchant Princess, Free on Amazon, Dec. 16 and 17.
Free for just two days, but you can get your own copy of
Home: Interstellar - Merchant Princess
for free Wednesday and Thursday at Amazon.
Home: Interstellar - Merchant Princess
for free Wednesday and Thursday at Amazon.
November 30, 2015
Love was first to break the speed of light ...
Another quote from de Merlner ...
From The Diary of Neuchar de Merlner, Europa, 2112Verse 12: Nova Conta, Section 9Amour (Love)
"Love broke the speed of light long before humans did. It is faster than light, timeless, and without any sense of distance."
From The Diary of Neuchar de Merlner, Europa, 2112Verse 12: Nova Conta, Section 9Amour (Love)
"Love broke the speed of light long before humans did. It is faster than light, timeless, and without any sense of distance."
November 4, 2015
Amazon Best Seller Rankings for Home: Interstellar! * No. 1 * in Multiple Categories
Home: Interstellar is
No. 1
in Space opera and
No. 1
in Space Marines on Amazon!
This can all change tomorrow, but I'm gonna' celebrate!
This can all change tomorrow, but I'm gonna' celebrate!
Amazon Best Seller Rankings for Home: Interstellar!
Home: Interstellar is
No. 7
in Space opera and
No. 1
in Space Marines on Amazon!
This can all change tomorrow, but I'm gonna' celebrate!
This can all change tomorrow, but I'm gonna' celebrate!
November 3, 2015
Home: Interstellar Free on Amazon, Nov. 4 and 5.
Just two days, but you can get your own copy of Home: Interstellar for free Wednesday and Thursday at Amazon.
October 19, 2015
Conversation with a Lawyer
...
In the constant drizzle of condensation from the high ceilings and the smells of oil and stale beer, Chief Hope wrangled her cargo loader. Lander’s wide, cigar-shaped cross section made unloading easy for her cargo crew and the faceless labor droids. She stopped the cruiser when a text appeared from her lawyer.
Meet me at Pierre’s, w4552. J
White zone, she thought and looked down at her stained fatigues. Totally inappropriate.
Cookie led the off duty crew out of the lock but stopped near the dockside ramp and waved to her. “Meriel, we’re heading for the TarnGirl. Gonna join us? John will be there.” He gave her another cagey smile.
“Sure. Later,” she said. “I need to finish up and do some shopping first.”
A few hours later, Meriel and her crew finished unloading, and she walked down the blue-zone docks wearing a more stylish bracelet link heading for white-zone to meet her lawyer. But white-zone was special, with fancy shops and clubs intended for station administration and finance personnel that were too bright and expensive for spacers. So Meriel altered her course to green-zone for a more suitable dress.
Once in green-zone, Meriel paid cash for some stationside clothing. She picked out a versatile high-collared outfit that would cover her scar and mimic a range of styles and then pressed a tab on the sleeve to select the “little black dress” option as the most neutral. Discussing the orphans with a lawyer violated the no-contact court orders, so without thinking, Meriel stuffed her fatigues into her bag, lowered her head to hide her face from the pervasive surveillance cameras, and left the store camouflaged within a group of women.
Well-dressed adults and children without the lean and nervous look typical of spacers filled the white-zone concourse. When passersby looked at her, their generous smiles disappeared, and their eyes narrowed with suspicion. Meriel felt out of place and wondered if her simple dress made her too obviously a stranger. Then she remembered that the cold looks might simply be the security scans of android nannies.
At Pierre’s, a uniformed man briefly glanced at a link, smiled warmly, and opened the door for her. Past the door, she entered a busy public square with a ceiling so high that clouds drifted above. Tiny white and pink blossoms drifted in the air from the cherry and plum trees surrounding the square, and pigeons pecked at seeds between the cobblestones. Artists sketched young couples while mimes entertained the children, and the scents of coffee and pastries drifted past. A jazz trio near the corner played something upbeat. Meriel smiled and switched the dress option from black to a white sundress with a rose print.
“Ms. Hope,” a voice called, and Meriel turned to see a man waving from a small table at an outdoor café nearby. It was Jeremy looking quite professional in an impeccably tailored business suit. She walked over, and they shook hands. Then he pulled out a chair for her. No spacer would ever treat a woman this way, so she blushed. He snapped his fingers, and a waiter brought over a glass containing a dark-red liquid.
“Nice, huh?” he said. “It’s Montmartre, Paris, on Earth. That’s the cathedral behind me.”
Meriel smiled. “Is this all for me?”
“Yes, of course, my dear,” he said with a broad smile and a flourish of his arms. “Really, my clients invited me to lunch here,” he said, but his sincerity was insufficient to overcome her anxiety and impatience.
“The drug impound was supposed to be a technicality and temporary, Jeremy. That’s what you’re working on.”
“Let’s order first.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I insist,” he said. He called the waiter over and ordered something in French. She looked for the kiosk that would sync with the dietary profile on her link but did not find it. Jeremy just smiled and shook his head.
When the waiter left, Meriel leaned over the table. “She’s ours, Jeremy. The Princess is ours.”
“Not for long. They want to close the case as a drug deal gone sour. The Princess has been impounded for a decade, and the station wants to recoup the dock fees. Forfeiture will let them do it.”
“My folks would never do anything like smuggle drugs,” she said. “And they never found anything to implicate the Princess or crew.”
“No one has adequately explained an attack in deep space, Meriel. A bad drug deal is the easiest interpretation.”
“And the most convenient,” she said. “If they ruled it piracy, the merchant fleets might refuse to fly.”
“Yes, yes, and the stations would die without the trade,” he said. “You’re right of course, and it’s all circumstantial. If the Princesshad simply disappeared, they would write it off as bad nav or pilot error. Showing up the way you did leaves only piracy or smuggling, so they’re stuck with a drug drop as the only acceptable explanation.”
“But they have no evidence!”
“Absence of evidence is not proof of innocence,” he said. “With all else equal, the simplest explanation, the one with the fewest assumptions, is usually the truth. That’s how they see this.”
“That’s Occam’s razor, Jeremy. We have science and facts now.”
“Meriel, these are judges, not scientists, and law is much older than science. Most scientists believe everything taught is the truth and build on that; they extrapolate in one direction or another. Judges see scientific explanations as temporary agreements that live only until better explanations arise. From Newton to Einstein and now Nakamura, science evolves better explanations. The judges have nothing but speculation, but it is the most logical and useful speculation.”
“Useful for them,” Meriel said.
The waiter came back with two small plates. Gracing her plate was a pastry containing a variety of fruit and vegetable sprouts surrounded by abstract patterns drawn in dark-brown and red sauces. Meriel stared with her mouth open. Oh my God. She leaned over to Jeremy. “Is this fresh?” she asked quietly, and Jeremy smiled and nodded. Meriel blushed with fear. “Am I paying for it?”
Jeremy grinned at her discomfort, leaned back, and shook his head. Meriel sighed, having been saved from a debt she might never be able to repay.
“Enjoy it. My clients have paid for it all,” Jeremy said. “Where were we?”
“Jeremy, they have no proof.”
“Your parents are guilty until proven innocent. It’s Napoleonic law out here, Meriel, not like America before the UNE.”
“How can they do this? My folks never did anything wrong,” she said while toying with her lunch.
“They were in debt,” Jeremy said.
“Everybody’s in debt. They’d never carry anything illegal or dangerous. Papa even did long jumps to keep us near stations.”
“It was a big debt,” Jeremy said.
“Never, J, never!”
“Then prove it.”
“We were just kids, Jeremy. We had to depend on the Biadez Foundation investigation, and the private investigators never seemed to get any further. I don’t have a lead.”
“Get one.”
“My ship will stop at Enterprise next week, and I can stop by the Princess.”
Jeremy shook his head. “You’ll need a court order and that will take too long.”
Meriel sighed. “Then what the hell can we do now?” She clutched the sim-chip on her necklace. “The police went over every bit of computer data on the ship and found nothing—the pirates wiped all of it.” She held out the sim-chip for Jeremy to see. “And the police screwed with my chip. It’s the only thing my mom left us, and they screwed with it. The police and troopers went over every inch of the Princess, every deck plate and hidey-hole, and found nothing but a pair of counterfeit designer shoes and some unidentified hair.”
“That hair came from a stim user, Meriel.”
“Not our crew! Not on our ship!” She threw down her fork, leaving her lunch untouched, and lowered her head to hide her tears. Jeremy put his hand on hers.
In a soft voice, she said, “The cops took everything, Jeremy, even our stupid toys. Liz and I don’t even have a single photo of our folks. And now they’re taking our ship.”
Jeremy laid a handkerchief by her hand. “Photos of the adults could be dangerous for the kids, Meriel,” he said. “They’re still in protective custody.”
Meriel took the handkerchief and brought it to her eyes. “Well, I’m not,” she said. “And so what?” She held out her sim-chip again. “This and the Princess are all my sister and I have to remember our folks and our friends. The other kids have nothing at all.” She shook her head and exhaled slowly. “What about an extension?”
“Extensions are usually automatic…but not this time.”
“Can we buy her?”
Jeremy shook his head. “They’ve got the bid they want and closed the bidding. They did it without any announcement.”
“Is that legal?”
“For an impound that’s damaged, yes.” Jeremy leaned over the table. “Ms. Hope, as your counsel, it is my responsibility to advise you that a settlement has been offered to you first, not to the station.” He pulled out a link and displayed the offer letter. The sum, in bold, was a fantastic amount of money.Meriel whistled. “That’s almost enough to buy a new ship.”
“Almost. It’s like they’re trying to discourage opposition.”
“Like me.”
Jeremy nodded. “Or our mutual friend.”
He means Teddy. “They don’t want me to have my ship but will compensate me when they steal her. This stinks.”
“I must advise you that you’ll lose everything if you pass up this offer. If we let the remaining time expire you’ll forfeit your rights, including any remainder from the proceeds. You’ll get nothing. Finding exculpatory evidence in less than three weeks is unlikely, and that information would still be subject to the ruling of the court. And that can never be certain.”Meriel remained quiet.
“The settlement can set you up, Meriel.”
“You mean buy me off,” she said. She was ready to spit or cry but not sure which.
“As your counsel I advise you to be prudent and take the cash if you cannot meet the court’s demands. Make your peace with this and move on. Lots of people would say you’ve been through enough.”
“It’s not about me, Jeremy. It’s about the kids. They’ve got nothing—parents gone, ship in a graveyard, no future. All we’ve got is the Princessand each other. That bid will not go very far split between eight of us.”
“Don’t misunderstand, Ms. Hope. The offer is to you alone, not to them,” he said.
“But I can’t just take it and run.”
“It’s not the Princess, and it’s not a new ship, but it’s something, even if it is split eight ways.”
“It’s not enough to save us from drifting into danger if we’re alone,” Meriel said. “Did Teddy tell you about when Penny went missing?” Jeremy shook his head.
“Penny is a real pretty kid—” Meriel began to say.
“It runs in your family,” Jeremy said with a playful smile, but Meriel just tilted her head and did not recognize his compliment.
“People always told Penny that she was pretty, but her folks played it down, hoping that she might not let that define her. Well, on her ninth birthday, she disappeared from a play area on Ross.”
“What about her biotag? Her link?” Jeremy asked.
“I’ll get to that. Anyway, the kids scoured the station for her with no luck. Sam Spurell, Tommy’s little brother, found her. Sam was looking after her because her older brother got spaced on their prior ship. That’s why the Hubbards joined the Princess. Well, Sam knew that Penny wanted something for her mom for Mother’s Day, and a vid might be the thing. He found her just down the boardwalk in a dress-up shop. He called us, and we all rushed there.
“We found Penny in tears. They had her all tarted up with big hair and lots of makeup, so she looked like she was going on twenty years old—unrecognizable. But Sam recognized her. My dad called the station police, and there was a big fuss. Apparently, the shop owner had lured her in with free vids for Mother’s Day. But the shop had a jammer to mask the biotags, and it made her untraceable.”
“EtnaVid?” Jeremy asked, and Meriel nodded. “I heard of them. Lucky you found her in time.”
“Not luck. Family. They closed them down after that.”
“I heard. What happened to Penny?”
“Penny’s mom got her out of there before the shouting and took her and us girls to a legit photographer. They scrubbed her makeup off, washed her hair, and redid her in very subdued makeup with a French braid. She was gorgeous. The photographer offered to introduce them to an agent, and her folks had the good sense to say no. But he kept a copy of the photos for advertising.”
“You saw it?”
“Yeah. It’s still there,” she said. “And Penny has only gotten prettier. You can’t hide beauty like hers. We all know she’s gonna waltz into a white-zone party when she gets older and walk out with a prince. But I’ll bet Sam will be two steps behind him, checking his pedigree.” Meriel took a breath. “We nearly lost her, and without the family, we would have. We’re stronger together, Jeremy. I want this for them.”
“It doesn’t change things with the Princess.”
Meriel tried her pathetic kitten look. “There’s nothing you can do?”
“Not and keep my license to practice,” he said.
Meriel looked as though she was going to say something, but Jeremy shook his head. “I can’t help you if I lose my license.”
Meriel sighed and stared at her uneaten lunch. “How many days to decide on the money?”
“Ten days, ET.”
“Damn. How can they do this? My folks never did anything wrong.”
“Then prove it. Bring the judges a better explanation—means, motive, opportunity. They have nothing but speculation, but it is the most obvious speculation. I’ll do all I can to help.” The link on his wrist buzzed and he looked at it. “Excuse me, Ms. Hope I have another appointment. Please advise me soonest of your decision.”
He rose and they shook hands briefly, but rather than let go, he held her hand and put his other hand over hers. She blushed again at the attention.
“Now, business aside,” he said with a steady gaze, “I did mention that the authorities moved the Liu Yang to the impound dock, yes?” When Meriel nodded he smiled and let go of her hand. “Great to see you again, Meriel,” he said and turned to leave.
Meriel watched Jeremy walk away and thought about what he had said. Of course, she knew that the authorities had moved the Princess. They had just talked about it, and he told her she could not visit legally. Then why would—
The waiter interrupted Meriel’s thoughts with a polite bow. “Pardon me, miss, but is there something wrong with your lunch? I am sure that Chef Pierre would be happy to prepare something special if this is not to your liking. Perhaps an ile flottante or raspberry crepes with crème fraiche?”
She had no idea what he was referring to, but said only, “No, thank you. I’m sure that would be delicious, but I’m just not hungry.”
The waiter frowned slightly and raised an eyebrow, as if forgiving a veiled insult. “As you wish. If I may, we will close for the afternoon in approximately five minutes. If there is anything else I can get for you, please just signal me.”
“Thank you,” Meriel said, and the waiter took her lunch plate, the only fresh food she had been served in her entire life, away untouched.
Meriel looked out at the busy square and the beautiful day and sighed. The settlement for the Princess and her current savings would buy her a vacation on Earth, perhaps in the real Paris, but it would only be for her and only for a little while. And when she left, it would all be gone, every physical reminder of the Princess and her childhood and her family. Everything would be gone forever. Still, I would have something more than I have now.
She pursed her lips. No. This is beautiful, but it’s just an illusion. This is not my life. She would need to prove that the Princesswas not a mule and her parents were not drug dealers. But how do you prove a negative? she wondered and rose to leave.
As Meriel walked out of the café, the hologram faded away, and the space became featureless gray walls and ceiling. When the doors closed behind her, the waiters and customers, all mindless androids, lined themselves up against a wall and turned themselves off.
... (From Home: Interstellar, Chapter 3: Lander, On station. Get it at Amazon)
(c) 2014, Benjamin R. Strong
In the constant drizzle of condensation from the high ceilings and the smells of oil and stale beer, Chief Hope wrangled her cargo loader. Lander’s wide, cigar-shaped cross section made unloading easy for her cargo crew and the faceless labor droids. She stopped the cruiser when a text appeared from her lawyer.
Meet me at Pierre’s, w4552. J
White zone, she thought and looked down at her stained fatigues. Totally inappropriate.
Cookie led the off duty crew out of the lock but stopped near the dockside ramp and waved to her. “Meriel, we’re heading for the TarnGirl. Gonna join us? John will be there.” He gave her another cagey smile.
“Sure. Later,” she said. “I need to finish up and do some shopping first.”
A few hours later, Meriel and her crew finished unloading, and she walked down the blue-zone docks wearing a more stylish bracelet link heading for white-zone to meet her lawyer. But white-zone was special, with fancy shops and clubs intended for station administration and finance personnel that were too bright and expensive for spacers. So Meriel altered her course to green-zone for a more suitable dress.
Once in green-zone, Meriel paid cash for some stationside clothing. She picked out a versatile high-collared outfit that would cover her scar and mimic a range of styles and then pressed a tab on the sleeve to select the “little black dress” option as the most neutral. Discussing the orphans with a lawyer violated the no-contact court orders, so without thinking, Meriel stuffed her fatigues into her bag, lowered her head to hide her face from the pervasive surveillance cameras, and left the store camouflaged within a group of women.
Well-dressed adults and children without the lean and nervous look typical of spacers filled the white-zone concourse. When passersby looked at her, their generous smiles disappeared, and their eyes narrowed with suspicion. Meriel felt out of place and wondered if her simple dress made her too obviously a stranger. Then she remembered that the cold looks might simply be the security scans of android nannies.
At Pierre’s, a uniformed man briefly glanced at a link, smiled warmly, and opened the door for her. Past the door, she entered a busy public square with a ceiling so high that clouds drifted above. Tiny white and pink blossoms drifted in the air from the cherry and plum trees surrounding the square, and pigeons pecked at seeds between the cobblestones. Artists sketched young couples while mimes entertained the children, and the scents of coffee and pastries drifted past. A jazz trio near the corner played something upbeat. Meriel smiled and switched the dress option from black to a white sundress with a rose print.
“Ms. Hope,” a voice called, and Meriel turned to see a man waving from a small table at an outdoor café nearby. It was Jeremy looking quite professional in an impeccably tailored business suit. She walked over, and they shook hands. Then he pulled out a chair for her. No spacer would ever treat a woman this way, so she blushed. He snapped his fingers, and a waiter brought over a glass containing a dark-red liquid.
“Nice, huh?” he said. “It’s Montmartre, Paris, on Earth. That’s the cathedral behind me.”
Meriel smiled. “Is this all for me?”
“Yes, of course, my dear,” he said with a broad smile and a flourish of his arms. “Really, my clients invited me to lunch here,” he said, but his sincerity was insufficient to overcome her anxiety and impatience.
“The drug impound was supposed to be a technicality and temporary, Jeremy. That’s what you’re working on.”
“Let’s order first.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I insist,” he said. He called the waiter over and ordered something in French. She looked for the kiosk that would sync with the dietary profile on her link but did not find it. Jeremy just smiled and shook his head.
When the waiter left, Meriel leaned over the table. “She’s ours, Jeremy. The Princess is ours.”
“Not for long. They want to close the case as a drug deal gone sour. The Princess has been impounded for a decade, and the station wants to recoup the dock fees. Forfeiture will let them do it.”
“My folks would never do anything like smuggle drugs,” she said. “And they never found anything to implicate the Princess or crew.”
“No one has adequately explained an attack in deep space, Meriel. A bad drug deal is the easiest interpretation.”
“And the most convenient,” she said. “If they ruled it piracy, the merchant fleets might refuse to fly.”
“Yes, yes, and the stations would die without the trade,” he said. “You’re right of course, and it’s all circumstantial. If the Princesshad simply disappeared, they would write it off as bad nav or pilot error. Showing up the way you did leaves only piracy or smuggling, so they’re stuck with a drug drop as the only acceptable explanation.”
“But they have no evidence!”
“Absence of evidence is not proof of innocence,” he said. “With all else equal, the simplest explanation, the one with the fewest assumptions, is usually the truth. That’s how they see this.”
“That’s Occam’s razor, Jeremy. We have science and facts now.”
“Meriel, these are judges, not scientists, and law is much older than science. Most scientists believe everything taught is the truth and build on that; they extrapolate in one direction or another. Judges see scientific explanations as temporary agreements that live only until better explanations arise. From Newton to Einstein and now Nakamura, science evolves better explanations. The judges have nothing but speculation, but it is the most logical and useful speculation.”
“Useful for them,” Meriel said.
The waiter came back with two small plates. Gracing her plate was a pastry containing a variety of fruit and vegetable sprouts surrounded by abstract patterns drawn in dark-brown and red sauces. Meriel stared with her mouth open. Oh my God. She leaned over to Jeremy. “Is this fresh?” she asked quietly, and Jeremy smiled and nodded. Meriel blushed with fear. “Am I paying for it?”
Jeremy grinned at her discomfort, leaned back, and shook his head. Meriel sighed, having been saved from a debt she might never be able to repay.
“Enjoy it. My clients have paid for it all,” Jeremy said. “Where were we?”
“Jeremy, they have no proof.”
“Your parents are guilty until proven innocent. It’s Napoleonic law out here, Meriel, not like America before the UNE.”
“How can they do this? My folks never did anything wrong,” she said while toying with her lunch.
“They were in debt,” Jeremy said.
“Everybody’s in debt. They’d never carry anything illegal or dangerous. Papa even did long jumps to keep us near stations.”
“It was a big debt,” Jeremy said.
“Never, J, never!”
“Then prove it.”
“We were just kids, Jeremy. We had to depend on the Biadez Foundation investigation, and the private investigators never seemed to get any further. I don’t have a lead.”
“Get one.”
“My ship will stop at Enterprise next week, and I can stop by the Princess.”
Jeremy shook his head. “You’ll need a court order and that will take too long.”
Meriel sighed. “Then what the hell can we do now?” She clutched the sim-chip on her necklace. “The police went over every bit of computer data on the ship and found nothing—the pirates wiped all of it.” She held out the sim-chip for Jeremy to see. “And the police screwed with my chip. It’s the only thing my mom left us, and they screwed with it. The police and troopers went over every inch of the Princess, every deck plate and hidey-hole, and found nothing but a pair of counterfeit designer shoes and some unidentified hair.”
“That hair came from a stim user, Meriel.”
“Not our crew! Not on our ship!” She threw down her fork, leaving her lunch untouched, and lowered her head to hide her tears. Jeremy put his hand on hers.
In a soft voice, she said, “The cops took everything, Jeremy, even our stupid toys. Liz and I don’t even have a single photo of our folks. And now they’re taking our ship.”
Jeremy laid a handkerchief by her hand. “Photos of the adults could be dangerous for the kids, Meriel,” he said. “They’re still in protective custody.”
Meriel took the handkerchief and brought it to her eyes. “Well, I’m not,” she said. “And so what?” She held out her sim-chip again. “This and the Princess are all my sister and I have to remember our folks and our friends. The other kids have nothing at all.” She shook her head and exhaled slowly. “What about an extension?”
“Extensions are usually automatic…but not this time.”
“Can we buy her?”
Jeremy shook his head. “They’ve got the bid they want and closed the bidding. They did it without any announcement.”
“Is that legal?”
“For an impound that’s damaged, yes.” Jeremy leaned over the table. “Ms. Hope, as your counsel, it is my responsibility to advise you that a settlement has been offered to you first, not to the station.” He pulled out a link and displayed the offer letter. The sum, in bold, was a fantastic amount of money.Meriel whistled. “That’s almost enough to buy a new ship.”
“Almost. It’s like they’re trying to discourage opposition.”
“Like me.”
Jeremy nodded. “Or our mutual friend.”
He means Teddy. “They don’t want me to have my ship but will compensate me when they steal her. This stinks.”
“I must advise you that you’ll lose everything if you pass up this offer. If we let the remaining time expire you’ll forfeit your rights, including any remainder from the proceeds. You’ll get nothing. Finding exculpatory evidence in less than three weeks is unlikely, and that information would still be subject to the ruling of the court. And that can never be certain.”Meriel remained quiet.
“The settlement can set you up, Meriel.”
“You mean buy me off,” she said. She was ready to spit or cry but not sure which.
“As your counsel I advise you to be prudent and take the cash if you cannot meet the court’s demands. Make your peace with this and move on. Lots of people would say you’ve been through enough.”
“It’s not about me, Jeremy. It’s about the kids. They’ve got nothing—parents gone, ship in a graveyard, no future. All we’ve got is the Princessand each other. That bid will not go very far split between eight of us.”
“Don’t misunderstand, Ms. Hope. The offer is to you alone, not to them,” he said.
“But I can’t just take it and run.”
“It’s not the Princess, and it’s not a new ship, but it’s something, even if it is split eight ways.”
“It’s not enough to save us from drifting into danger if we’re alone,” Meriel said. “Did Teddy tell you about when Penny went missing?” Jeremy shook his head.
“Penny is a real pretty kid—” Meriel began to say.
“It runs in your family,” Jeremy said with a playful smile, but Meriel just tilted her head and did not recognize his compliment.
“People always told Penny that she was pretty, but her folks played it down, hoping that she might not let that define her. Well, on her ninth birthday, she disappeared from a play area on Ross.”
“What about her biotag? Her link?” Jeremy asked.
“I’ll get to that. Anyway, the kids scoured the station for her with no luck. Sam Spurell, Tommy’s little brother, found her. Sam was looking after her because her older brother got spaced on their prior ship. That’s why the Hubbards joined the Princess. Well, Sam knew that Penny wanted something for her mom for Mother’s Day, and a vid might be the thing. He found her just down the boardwalk in a dress-up shop. He called us, and we all rushed there.
“We found Penny in tears. They had her all tarted up with big hair and lots of makeup, so she looked like she was going on twenty years old—unrecognizable. But Sam recognized her. My dad called the station police, and there was a big fuss. Apparently, the shop owner had lured her in with free vids for Mother’s Day. But the shop had a jammer to mask the biotags, and it made her untraceable.”
“EtnaVid?” Jeremy asked, and Meriel nodded. “I heard of them. Lucky you found her in time.”
“Not luck. Family. They closed them down after that.”
“I heard. What happened to Penny?”
“Penny’s mom got her out of there before the shouting and took her and us girls to a legit photographer. They scrubbed her makeup off, washed her hair, and redid her in very subdued makeup with a French braid. She was gorgeous. The photographer offered to introduce them to an agent, and her folks had the good sense to say no. But he kept a copy of the photos for advertising.”
“You saw it?”
“Yeah. It’s still there,” she said. “And Penny has only gotten prettier. You can’t hide beauty like hers. We all know she’s gonna waltz into a white-zone party when she gets older and walk out with a prince. But I’ll bet Sam will be two steps behind him, checking his pedigree.” Meriel took a breath. “We nearly lost her, and without the family, we would have. We’re stronger together, Jeremy. I want this for them.”
“It doesn’t change things with the Princess.”
Meriel tried her pathetic kitten look. “There’s nothing you can do?”
“Not and keep my license to practice,” he said.
Meriel looked as though she was going to say something, but Jeremy shook his head. “I can’t help you if I lose my license.”
Meriel sighed and stared at her uneaten lunch. “How many days to decide on the money?”
“Ten days, ET.”
“Damn. How can they do this? My folks never did anything wrong.”
“Then prove it. Bring the judges a better explanation—means, motive, opportunity. They have nothing but speculation, but it is the most obvious speculation. I’ll do all I can to help.” The link on his wrist buzzed and he looked at it. “Excuse me, Ms. Hope I have another appointment. Please advise me soonest of your decision.”
He rose and they shook hands briefly, but rather than let go, he held her hand and put his other hand over hers. She blushed again at the attention.
“Now, business aside,” he said with a steady gaze, “I did mention that the authorities moved the Liu Yang to the impound dock, yes?” When Meriel nodded he smiled and let go of her hand. “Great to see you again, Meriel,” he said and turned to leave.
Meriel watched Jeremy walk away and thought about what he had said. Of course, she knew that the authorities had moved the Princess. They had just talked about it, and he told her she could not visit legally. Then why would—
The waiter interrupted Meriel’s thoughts with a polite bow. “Pardon me, miss, but is there something wrong with your lunch? I am sure that Chef Pierre would be happy to prepare something special if this is not to your liking. Perhaps an ile flottante or raspberry crepes with crème fraiche?”
She had no idea what he was referring to, but said only, “No, thank you. I’m sure that would be delicious, but I’m just not hungry.”
The waiter frowned slightly and raised an eyebrow, as if forgiving a veiled insult. “As you wish. If I may, we will close for the afternoon in approximately five minutes. If there is anything else I can get for you, please just signal me.”
“Thank you,” Meriel said, and the waiter took her lunch plate, the only fresh food she had been served in her entire life, away untouched.
Meriel looked out at the busy square and the beautiful day and sighed. The settlement for the Princess and her current savings would buy her a vacation on Earth, perhaps in the real Paris, but it would only be for her and only for a little while. And when she left, it would all be gone, every physical reminder of the Princess and her childhood and her family. Everything would be gone forever. Still, I would have something more than I have now.
She pursed her lips. No. This is beautiful, but it’s just an illusion. This is not my life. She would need to prove that the Princesswas not a mule and her parents were not drug dealers. But how do you prove a negative? she wondered and rose to leave.
As Meriel walked out of the café, the hologram faded away, and the space became featureless gray walls and ceiling. When the doors closed behind her, the waiters and customers, all mindless androids, lined themselves up against a wall and turned themselves off.
... (From Home: Interstellar, Chapter 3: Lander, On station. Get it at Amazon)
(c) 2014, Benjamin R. Strong
