Wednesday, November 1, 2005, 12:02 UTC
Luna, Port Oldridge, Imperial Media Center
The monthly press conference started on time for a change. Mattie was in a calf-length dress instead of a gown, a medium blue, with her hair up and looking quite regal none-the-less. The more observant members of the press noticed Arthur lurking in the background, dressed in a dark pinstriped suit.
"Please be seated. Good afternoon everyone. Today's draft date was September 30th, 1968. Those drafted will have one month to report." Unlike last month, she hadn't ruined anyone's 30th birthday. "As a note: the draft drawing for January 1st, 2006 will be conducted by Prime Minister Fleur Delacour who will be Acting Empress at the time. Barring unforeseen circumstances, I'll be getting married that day and then be on my honeymoon for two weeks. It will also be Election Day for the Empire, so plan accordingly."
Mattie paused for a sip of water then launched into a short speech detailing the progress and lack thereof, in dealing with the aftermath of the war with the Solodokve Republic. Aeeloh was a mess. If it were politically correct, she would have stated it was a case of not enough Chiefs and way too many Indians. Instead, it was classified as slow to develop local leadership holding back progress. With enhanced former slaves compromising the vast majority of the surviving population, there was a distinct lack of initiative. The former slaves who showed the most potential fell into three basic categories. The ones who wanted to become masters, the ones who wanted to slaughter any surviving former masters, and the smallest group, those who wanted freedom for all.
The four planets of the Tasbaah system were doing better. Agriculture had greatly expanded on two of the worlds and aquaculture was beginning to take hold on all four which meant that local food production had increased significantly and there was useful work for many of the former slaves. Others had been repatriated to their worlds of origin, but there were at least two planets who refused to take their former citizens back for reasons. This in turn freed up some of the shipping that had been used for bringing food to those planets and Aeeloh being available for commercial purposes. While the Terrans vetted those shipments closely, med tanks, the former Republic's primary technological export, were beginning to trickle back into the sector's trade channels.
"Ms. Andersen, we haven't heard from you in a while."
"Actually, it's Mrs. Jacobs now," the woman said, holding up her left hand to show a nice sapphire ring. With lab grown diamonds becoming relatively common, many people were turning to other options for their wedding rings.
"Congratulations. And what is your question Mrs. Jacobs?"
"Opposition leader Edward McDermott is standing for re-election this January in what appears to be a close race. You have not endorsed him or his opponent. Do you have anything you'd like to share on the topic?"
"It is my personal policy not to take sides in such matters, although that policy isn't written in stone. Mr McDermott..."
Friday, November 3, 2005: 14:47 UTC
Luna, Port Oldridge, Shepard Entertainment Complex
As seen from Earth, it was an early crescent moon, so it was also a nearly full Earth when seen from the moon. A blue, green and brown marble frosted with white clouds was visible with the complex's lights turned off. When they weren't, the lights from the complex were visible from Earth at night, along with the lights from the cities, outposts, resource extraction stations, et multiple cetera.
"Okay, fire it up," Imperial Army Corp of Engineers Captain Brian Samuels told his team. Switches were thrown and the dark sky was replaced with an illusion of blue sky. About ten seconds later, something went 'pop' and the holographic projector failed.
"Shut her down! Shut her down!" the captain cried even as his crew were doing that very thing. It was the worst possible result. If it had not worked at all, they would have known to try something else. If it had worked, well then it would have worked and the problem would be solved. As it was, they were clearly close, but also clearly had more work to do. Assuming the projector had survived the failure. Galtech was fairly robust, but they'd been working mostly blind.
The idea was to have the Imperial wedding take place under 'sunny skies', but the wedding would be taking place during a nearly identical crescent moon and the Port Oldridge region would be in darkness. Using scattered and filtered sunlight was out. The regular systems gave enough light to see by for golf and other sports during the two week lunar night, but was clearly artificial. A projector capable of providing 'natural' light was a very unofficial 'wedding gift' from the centaur like people of B'rtstg III, which humans called D'avalon for some reason. (Her Majesty and the Imperial Consort having made it clear that they did not want any wedding gifts other than the attendees' presence.)
They'd sent the gear, but not the operating manual. At least not in any form the Imperial Army technicians could understand. With English being the official language of the Empire, there should have been something. They'd requested someone from the B'rtstg delegation to help them figure things out, but no one had come. Nor, if the Captain understood correctly, would any assistance be forthcoming. It was apparently a racial characteristic of the 'space ponies' to have people figure out things for themselves and if they broke whatever it was in the process, it was too bad. Which he thought was stupid considering it was supposed to be a gift, no matter how unofficial.
He called the Matron of Honor/Chief Wedding Planner and let her know.
.oOo.
"Charlie, do you know anything about holographic projectors?" Sprink asked her husband quietly. Bluebelle was sleeping and Wilma was watching her while working on some knitting.
"Can't say as I do," Charlie replied, equally quiet. While not sleeping through the night yet, Bluebelle was sleeping for longer stretches of time which made both their lives easier. "I've done some editing of holographic footage and learned a little about the cameras used, that's all."
"Well, something went wrong with the field test of the projector we're using at the big wedding and Captain Samuels doesn't know if they'll be able to fix it this time."
"If we have to do without, we have to do without."
"I want them to try," Sprink replied. "I want this to be the best wedding we can throw."
"How's the discretionary budget looking? Maybe we can just buy a new one with instructions in English."
"Not too good I'm afraid. Mattie and Arthur are paying for the little wedding out of pocket. For the big wedding they're covering clothes for the entire wedding party, catering for those on their personal guest lists and most of the transport costs. The government is providing security and the catering for the government officials and press. They're also paying for the live Imperial Information Ministries broadcast, which is insanely expensive. Biggest line item for the entire wedding because we can't use the sisal network, not enough bandwidth, and have to use standard FTL comms. Even then, they'll be planets in the Empire we can't reach, like Windfall, that are too far away form our other planets, even using relay ships."
"You don't have to tell me twice about galtech FTL communications costs. I wouldn't think one holo projector would be that big a strain on the budget though."
"It's a really big one. It was meant to cover the entire Shepard Dome, and that's... really big." Between the golf course, the soccer stadium, the gardens and the other facilities, it was a good 200 hectares (494 acres/0.77 square miles). "Special order gear, even by galactic standards."
"I didn't know that. Is there some other way of producing the effect, short of an ocean of blue paint? I don't know of any."
"Neither do I. If you could ask around for me, that would be lovely. Just remember, it's supposed to be a surprise for Mattie and Arthur. Be discreet."
Wilma traipsed in from the bedroom and said, "Little Miss Bluebelle is waking soon. Wilma to make nice warm batch of formula."
"Thank you, Wilma," Sprink said split seconds before Charlie echoed her.
Sunday, November 5, 2005: 11:12 UTC
Luna, Port Oldridge Realm of Abo Embassy
Wikka Stembarian, as a free male, was unusual by the standards of the Realm. He wasn't a abo for one thing, but a falau, one of the Realm's client races. A race similar enough to the abo that their genetics were partially compatible. They couldn't interbreed, but sections of the falau genome had been introduced into the abo and were slowly spreading within their population. He was good enough at his job that he had it despite not being an abo.
A detailed map of Mare Tranquilitatis was spread upon the conference table. He was 'old fashioned' and liked physical maps better than computer projections.
"Without doing full resources assessments on all the possible sites, I find there are three good options. First is between Starport Luna and Port Oldridge. Convenience says build there. Second is near the spur line from Port Oldridge to their equatorial railroad. That would be the cheapest site. Third is on the spur line between Port Oldridge and their historic preserve marked 'Apollo 11', the site of the human's first manned moon landing."
"What advantages does it posses over the other two options?" Ma'bet asked.
"While land near the equatorial spur line is cheaper, that does not mean the existing trains will stop there. We might need to either build our own line or tunnel to have the transit links that an embassy requires, neither of which would be cheap. The other spur line, while somewhat more expensive, does not use high speed trains for the journey to their historical site. Therefore stopping for us on the way out or back will incur a minimal time penalty. We might even build a shuttle that uses the already existing line and arrange for a storage area for it in Port Oldridge itself. I don't know if they would consider it the Realm's territory like the embassy is."
From what Ma'bet understood of Terran customs, the interior of an official vehicle was considered Abo territory, the same as the Embassy was and the new Embassy would be once it opened. "Could we not do that with the less expensive site?"
"It's a high speed line. The humans are far less likely to let us use it. They wouldn't want anything to interfere with their own use. The other has traffic that moves at a much lower rate of speed. It is a much smaller thing for Lady St'laya to ask of the Terrans."
"Truth. The Terrans like her enough that she was returned to this station over the objection of Br'sine, the former Mission Leader." Wikka knew the proper term was First-of-Spies but ignored the polite fiction. "I'll have Lady Sa'deep examine the possibilities and see if we can find two parcels owned by two different groups that are near one another. I don't want our interest to trigger a speculative price increase. With two options, we might even get them into a bidding war to reduce the price."
"While the Lady does that, I'll work on analyzing the core samples I took. We'll be digging a large hole. If there's something valuable to extract at the same time, so much the batter." A valuable find might greatly alter any preliminary plans that had been made.
Tuesday, November 7, 2005: 14:00 GMT
London, St James's Street, Saint Sebastian's French Cuisine
Obtaining a base of operations in Soho had cost Lucius Malfoy only a few minor spells and a willingness to cheat the muggle owner. With that as a base, he studied the books he'd obtained from the London Library, while making the occasional trip to the Library proper to use their facilities and to read books that did not circulate.
He was happy with his progress, even if his co-inhabitant was not.
Albus Dumbledore swore to himself. He was fairly certain he could evict Lucius Malfoy from his body, but only if he gained control long enough to do so. It would take minutes that Malfoy wasn't giving him. Malfoy never slept. His demonic nature, even as suppressed as it was, meant that he didn't need to. Sure, he rested the eyes and body because every so often they needed it. The body was human even if the controlling force was not.
"An admirable meal Lucius, I'll give you that," Albus said has his guest sipped a glass of the house white.
Lucius didn't bother to answer.
"Well you have something you can use as a cauldron and a heat source. What are you going to use for ingredients? Gather them yourself? You can't go to Zabini Apothecary looking like that." Albus hoped he tried it. Draco sometimes visited the Apothecary and would certainly notice his father's presence if they encountered one another.
Lucius cast a minor silencing charm so that his voice wouldn't carry to muggles who might think him mad for talking to someone who wan't there. "This form was a goal and a... barometer that I used to determine how much magic I had available and how stable our existence was. Now that we are stable, I don't have to keep it."
"You will if you wish to keep being 'Reggie Black'. The people at the London Library know your form by now and would notice any changes."
"True. Magically altering their memories, or simply obliviating them would take too much effort. There are so many of them." Lucius sliced off another piece of sauteed quail breast. Keeping up their body's strength was important. "Changing back and forth would use too much magic. But with the help of the electronic camera I've purchased, we can hopefully copy the book, the real book, and not need to return to the library in this form." Besides, 'Reggie Black' was a bad alias to use if he needed anything from the magical world. While a number of people who had allegedly died turned up alive after Voldemort's soul had been bound, along with children who'd been sent to live among muggles, such as Ami Bones, impersonating any English wizard, missing or dead, was a bad idea. He didn't even know for a fact that Regulus Black was actually dead, although he would wager that was the case.
'Who to become?' he thought. He could speak French well enough to fool an Englishman. A great number of wizards had perished in the destruction of Paris as well. But close connections between the French and British Ministries could betray him quickly. German was a better option and Russian even better than that. The Russian Ministry barely spoke to the rest of the magical world. Anyone trying to trace him through there would hit a stone wall.
Yes. That would do nicely. As a demon he possessed the gift of tongues. With his demonic nature suppressed, he could not use that gift. He might have to learn the Cyrillic alphabet and the Russian language, but those obstacles were not insurmountable with magic on his side. "Don't worry about it Albus. If there's no copy protection spell on the book, we should have a new identity by the time we need to return."
Wednesday, November 8, 2005, 17:35 UTC
Luna, Port Oldridge, Adams' apartment
"Aren't you getting to be a big girl? Yes you are, yes you are," Arthur said playfully to Bluebelle as she rested against his shoulder and tried to burp.
pat pat pat pat pat pat pat "Blahp!" The towel on his shoulder took the hit, not his shirt.
"There we go. Good job. Back to Daddy." Arthur wiped her mouth before handing the child back to her father then cast evanesco on the towel.
"Thanks. You are surprisingly good at that," Charlie said as he sat down on the couch with Bluebelle in his arms.
"I cheat. X-ray vision lets me know where to pat."
"That is cheating," Charlie declared with mock indignation "I was starting to give a thought or two to your stag party."
"I'm gonna guess you mean 'bachelor party'."
"Wouldn't it be nice if we had a language in common?" Charlie asked rhetorically as Bluebelle grabbed an offered finger and tried to eat it.
"Yeah, but I'm not... It doesn't sound like my kind of thing."
"I know Sprink has plans for a hen do. We can't let the girls get one up on us." Charlie wan't that surprised by Arthur's statement. Arthur didn't drink, and while that was fine, there were times he wished his friend would loosen up a bit. "C'mon, you don't want to have a pretty girl jump out of a cake at you?"
"X-ray vision also ruins a lot of surprises. Mattie wraps my Christmas and birthday presents in gold foil just so I can't see what they are."
"I didn't know it worked like that."
"I can't see through gold, lead or my own body. Hull metal, or any compressed material, is hard to see through, but not impossible." He also couldn't see through Superman, Supergirl or Little Miss Lana depending on how much sunlight she'd been getting.
"Okay, let's say we use some gold foil. Out of all the women you know, who would be the biggest surprise to pop out of a cake?"
"Biggest surprise? Anne. I can't imagine her doing it. Most willing? Ask my crew and I'd bet you'd get at least four volunteers. Most welcome? That, I'm not going to tell you."
'An interesting admission', Charlie thought. "For a skinny geek, you've got a decent amount of female attention."
Arthur shrugged in reply. He knew that if he wasn't with Mattie, he'd never have received any of it. "Seriously, who would you invite? I don't have a lot of guy friends."
"There's your wedding party and... uh..."
Arthur smirked.
"… Mattie's Uncle Clark. Maybe her Uncle Eddie?"
While it was true he liked both of them... "Who are roughly my father's age. Aim lower."
"Mmm... Mike Bulstrode?"
"Winner. Who else?"
"You've got some male cousins, don't you?"
"One on the Morton side and five on the Dunka side." One five years younger than him and other five at least ten years older.
"I'd say Andrew Kirke, but no one's been able to find him."
Arthur nodded in acknowledgement. "St'wan Kosta," he said.
"The Co'aal Ambassador's son? Haven't met him."
"Nice guy. Has his head on pretty straight for a galactic."
"Well, if you don't want a traditional stag party, what would you like to do?"
"I dunno. Something fun. There are no go kart tracks on the moon, but I think there's a laser tag place in Starport Luna."
"You've got four shuttles. There's no reason we have to stay on the moon."
Arthur brightened a bit at the idea. "I'd say Cedar Point, but they're closed for the winter. Maybe a day at Six Flags would be nice." Arthur liked roller coasters. Ohio had a surprising number of them, but none that were open in November, let alone December.
"Okay, I think that's something I can work with. Shuttles need a pilot and engineer, right? Be a good idea if they had something to do while we're off having fun."
"I can come up with something, even if it's just a hydrogen run. More water never hurts."
"Sorted."
Saturday, November 11, 2005, 1:32 GMT
London, Soho, Berwick Street
Lucius Malfoy was quite happy with his choice of location. The London Library, several excellent restaurants and shops of every type were within easy walking distance, even Diagon Alley. Soon he would be able to go there without being recognized.
He looked at himself in the mirror with care and looked for anything that would remind people of Lucius Malfoy. Gone was the long pale blond hair, replaced by a shorter dark brown that appeared black in aggregate. The grey eyes were now a pedestrian green. His pale skin had been darkened a shade or two. A wizard his apparent age normally wore a beard, so he did, even if didn't particularly like them. A neatly trimmed extended goatee with mustache, not an uncontrolled mess like Hagrid possessed, or the long, carefully tended beard that many older wizards wore. The new nose was a tough larger and wider as part of his disguise. He'd even changed his scent. Wayne routinely associated with werewolves, the possibility had to be considered. Lastly, a magical tweak of his vocal cords lowered the pitch of his voice enough to change it significantly. Even the accent was coming along.
Altering his aura was a tougher trick. The changes caused by becoming a succubus and then suppressing that demonic nature were significant, but would likely draw negative attention from anyone who gave it more than a cursory examination. Albus eventually provided him with the spell he needed, but warned him that it didn't last indefinitely.
It was, unfortunately, something that would need to be field tested. Because he cast the spell on 'himself', he was unable to observe the effect. As existence was not a risk free activity, he cast it as directed and would have to see if it worked. Worst case, he'd flee and creative another new identity after suitably punishing Dumbledore for failing him.
"How do I look Albus?" Lucius asked as he examined his image. The new clothes weren't really his style, but a newly arrived 'Russian' wearing clothes from Twilfitt and Tatting's might be noticed.
"Not like yourself, Lucius." He hadn't changed his height, build, gait or teeth, but the odds of anyone seeing, noticing or acting on those points when the more readily identifiable marks had changed were negligible. It should be effective. Unfortunately.
"My name is now Dmitri Stepanov. Use it. I need to get used to responding to it."
"Of course, 'Dmitri'."
.oOo.
There is a 'back way' that that leads to Knockturn Alley used by less savory sorts. There are those who simply apparate or floo in. Vanishing cabinets can also be used if available.
Dmitri came the back way. It was far less public then going through the Leaky Cauldron. He took a deep breath and smiled. He'd missed this after being forced to live amongst muggles for so long. While the few people he could see weren't examples of high society, at least they were wizards and witches.
The crowds got thicker as he approached Diagon Alley on the overcast afternoon. Passing Zabini Apothecary, he wondered if he needed to stop there on his way back. The day's targets were Potage's Cauldron Shop, Slug & Jiggers plus Flourish and Blotts.
Dmitri had something he thought he could use as a cauldron, but a proper cauldron, preferably copper, would be better. Slug and Jiggers should have what he needed for the potions he wanted to brew, assuming they had mandrake root in stock. There were some basic reference texts he wanted from Flourish and Blotts. Eventually he'd need more advanced works available in Knockturn Alley, but he needed to start somewhere.
He barely exchanged two sentences at Potage's. At Slug & Jiggers he'd claimed to have lo lost his supplies in a fire to explain why he needed a supply of basic materials. "Could I have a copy of your catalogue?"
"Certainly sir. No charge given your purchases today," the matronly witch behind the counter informed him as she slipped the requested item into a rather large carrying case before closing it. Biggest sale she'd made since September.
"Bol'shoye spasibo."
"Russkiy? Ne za chto."
Dmitri recognized that as "Russian? You're welcome." Her accent was horrible. He nodded and replied, "My English is excellent. As I am relocating to your country, I should stop speaking Russian."
"Oh, you never really give up your milk language," the woman said enthusiastically.
Dmitri disengaged without using any more of his apparently not as questionable as he thought Russian. He made a note to avoid the place, or at least her. Language skills did not cover a lack of historical knowledge. It would be too easy to get caught out that way.
His tale of a lab fire covered his need to purchase the standard texts and almanacs. Although the salesman did offer to import versions in Russian for him for a small fee. In Diagon Alley, 'a small fee' never was, but Dmitri acted like he didn't know that. The alley shops were convenient, not cheap.
Many galleons poorer, he returned to his Berwick Street lodgings in something resembling a good mood until he realized that he'd have to change muggle money for wizarding currency before returning. He could only do that at Gringott's, whose security was second to none. It would have to be real money, they'd catch counterfeit currency, no matter how cleverly made. They were also likely to pierce any disguise he might present them. There were surely ways around that problem. He would merely need to find them.
His ordeal had taught him the need for many things. Caution, patience, planning. Whether he had actually learned those things was to be determined.
Monday, November 13, 2005, 21:05 UTC
Luna, Farside, Imperial research station #2
'Tis a lovely dress,' Anne thought as she held it at arm's length. But it was a sleeveless v-neck that showed all of her arms and made it clear that she was, in fact, a mammal. When she'd first awoke in the present, she might have thought it scandalous. But she'd changed since then. As had the entire world. Quickly in some areas, but far more slowly in others.
That she was a woman, and only 21 yers of age (by one measure anyway), had meant that there were those, men and women both, who would not take her seriously. Many of them quickly learned better while others had been reassigned to work elsewhere. Anne's time was considered too valuable to waste dealing with mindless prejudice.
Not that she was always correct. Her last mistaken belief had cost millions to prove it was a mistake. But her successes more than made up for the occasional errors.
But socially... There were times she wished she had her father, or at least a father figure, to help her. Yes, there was her great-to-the-nth nephew. But he was on Earth and given his tolerance of what his own daughter Kelly had done, being visibly pregnant at the time of her marriage, disqualified him from providing guidance to her.
The few men who knew that Anne wanted such guidance had made it clear that they didn't want the job. Almost to a man they'd said she was old enough and smart enough to make her own decisions. Her upbringing wasn't so readily discarded. Social programming was screaming at her to marry and have children, love and happiness not really being part of it. Her mind, fortunately, was still strong enough to insist otherwise.
She wasn't unattractive, merely short. Artificial gravity in living and working quarters was more common on Farside Luna than Nearside. She exercised regularly to keep her body as fit as her mind. After five years of inoculations and treatments, her immune system was finally to the point where someone sniffling six yards away no longer made her worry that she'd end up flat on her back for a week. But suitable suitors were... lacking.
Mattie's medtank had been used to increase her height by a good 15 centimeters without changing her other proportions that much. If she asked, Anne felt certain that Mattie would allow her undergo a similar procedure. Maybe if she were taller, she wouldn't keep being overlooked.
Saturday, November 19, 2005, 18:40 UTC
Luna, Grimaldi Crater, House Wayne
"I'm bored," Arthur complained to Mattie as they sat watching Gotham Blades versus Columbus Blue Jackets.
"Was there something else you wanted to watch?"
"No, no. The game's fine." Especially with the CBJ up 2-0 early in the third period. "I was talking about... 'work'."
Mattie heard the quotation marks. "Is there a problem?"
"With our wedding coming up, my list of 'official duties' as Crown Consort have dropped to pretty much nothing." For which he was grateful.
Mattie had pared back her own social calendar quite a bit as well. "Being my understudy isn't keeping you busy enough?"
Arthur grimaced. "Mattie, I can stand in for you. But I can't do your job long term. No one can. If you and I go down, Fleur or Babs will do their very best to keep the Empire running. But seriously, there's no way the Terran Empire will last without you at the helm for at least the next twenty five or maybe even fifty years."
It was an estimate amazingly close to that she'd received from her own sources. Only her descendants would be considered as acceptable heirs to the throne and only if they showed some aptitude for the position. While Mattie didn't think the phrase 'cult of personality' was the best description of the situation, she hadn't found one that fit better. She was, for good or ill, indispensable to the Empire, if not to her actual goal of seeing humanity spread far enough that the loss of Earth would not mean the end of the human race.
"Is that your intuition speaking or do you have some actual facts to hang that opinion on?" she asked.
"Intuition backed with how things went in August when I was covering for you," he answered. "I tried, very hard, not to rock the boat too much, but I could tell that a lot more people wanted you back than wanted to see me stay on the throne."
"I'm not going to complain about that. If I'm the only glue that'll hold this thing together, so be it."
From her chair by the entryway to the kitchen, 2LT Davis sprang to her feet. "Your Majesty, we have a situation."
Mattie and Arthur untangled themselves even as Mattie asked, "What?"
"Something or someone is attacking the JLA Watchtower. Whatever it is isn't showing on sensors. There'll be shockwaves like an earthquake spreading from there, intensity unknown. Parts of the Watchtower have been mangled and that place is made out of promethium."
"Even Superman has to work to bend promethium," Arthur stated, impressed-.
"Order a vacuum lockdown, moon wide."
Before Lt. Davis could relay the command, warning sirens were blowing throughout Grimaldi Crater and the other Lunar habitats. Somebody hadn't waited to make that decision and Mattie was grateful they hadn't. "Where are you going?" she demanded as Arthur headed for the exit.
"Getting my spacesuit!"
Even as her Green Lantern uniform appeared, Mattie hoped he had time. Shockwaves were fast.
.oOo.
"Arthur, what's going on?" Becky demanded of her brother. In the background, the phrase, 'this is not a drill' was added to the vacuum alarm's cry.
"Possible moonquake arriving any minute. Where are Carson and Sophie?"
"Buck Park," That was the nearest greenspace to House Morton, a hockey rink sized area with a basketball court, playground, walking path and decorative plants and flowers.
"Get your ass in a bod pod."
"What about you?" Becky asked as she pulled a big red handle built into the wall of the living room.
"I'm considered a first responder. I need to suit up." All able bodied mages were considered first responders and anyone with a working skinsuit available was to wear it during vacuum emergencies.
Unlike the pressure suits of old, a galtech spacesuit was designed to be donned without assistance. Arthur stripped to his skin, even removing the mechanics that held his wand and a few assorted weapons before sliding his legs into the suit.
The first shockwave hit.
It wasn't a big one. Arthur, being Ohio raised, had no experience with earthquakes, let alone moonquakes. But he knew that this wasn't a natural phenomenon and that more were coming. He pulled the neck ring over his head before sliding his arms into the sleeves. He reached for the seal control as the second shockwave arrived.
It was much worse.
Arthur bounced off the bed and visible cracks appeared on the stuccoed ceiling and faux-wood panelling as he fell to floor. Unhurt, he hit the seal control and grabbed his wand from his mechanic. A glance at the telltales on the door showed nominal pressure in his bedroom and the hall outside it, so he somewhat awkwardly entered the hall to see that minor damage showed there as well.
After the first shockwave, Becky had crawled into the bod pod, but hadn't triggered it because she could read the atmospheric tell-tales too. She'd thought about it after the second but the lights were still all green. She saw Arthur turn off the grav grid and before he could leave asked, "Where are you going?"
"Buck Park, unless something more important crosses my path first." he replied on his way out the door.
Saturday, November 19, 2005, 18:45 UTC
Luna, Mare Serentatis. JLA Watchtower
They couldn't find it. Between two Supermen, Supergirl, the Martian Manhunter and four Green Lanterns, they couldn't find it.
They were in the wrong universe for that.
In a different universe, both impossibly close and more than infinitely distant, where other rules applied, a force had been unleashed that that universe couldn't contain. A force called Superboy-Prime. While kidnapping that universe's Martian Manhunter, he destroyed that reality's Watchtower. The 'echoes' of that attack spilled over to other universes. Some that had no Watchtower, some that that didn't even have a JLA. But only one that had a Terran Empire ruled from Luna.
"Is everyone okay?" Kon El asked the group at large.
Kal El quickly scanned everyone present and reported a clean bill of health. With a glance he searched the interior of the Watchtower. "Lex's tank is leaking," he said before entering the damaged structure at at a speed even Flash thought impressive.
The patient monitors showed mostly green lights with the occasional yellow. The tank's self monitoring system had a few reds and two blacks scattered amongst the yellows and greens. Definitely not good, even if Kal didn't know exactly what those lights meant.
The JLA had another medtank on order. It hadn't arrived. Kal quickly went through his mental list of locations known to have medtanks. Camp Katherine topped it. With the changes to the induction process, draftees and volunteers needed far less tank time than before those changes. They were the most likely to have a tank available.
"Well?" Lex asked sharply. Clearly the neural interface to his comm gear was still working.
"Your tank is damaged Lex. We'll probably have to move you," Kal explained.
"Oh, the horror," Lex drawled. He wasn't worried, he knew Superman, his Superman anyway, would go to heroic lengths to keep him alive. It was somewhat of a 'The Scorpion and the Frog' situation, but when the scorpion's sting doesn't work on the frog, the frog becomes even less cautious than he should be. Lex planned to take advantage of that.
.oOo.
There would be some irony in taking Lex to Camp Katherine, the place where he'd been killed before his botched resurrection in a Lazarus pit. Ditto with the Morton tank in Grandview Heights as it was Elena Morton who had killed him in the first place. There was plenty of irony in his being in the Watchtower to begin with.
'Irony be damned,' Kal thought as the read through the English translation of the tank's operating manual at super speed.
Saturday, November 19, 2005, 19:12 UTC
Luna, Grimaldi Crater
Mattie and Crystal had flown off to Port Oldridge leaving Arthur to take care of Grimaldi Crater and Grimaldi Station. Todd was still at the Watchtower helping clean up the mess there.
Tuned to the emergency frequency, Arthur reported himself ready for duty and wanted to know what the first priority was. A small ag-dome had blown out, the people there waiting rescue from their bod pods, but the livestock, chickens for the most part, had died. Crews with the proper rescue equipment were already in route. Another ag-dome, part of Grimaldi Station's CO2-O2 exchange system, had sprung a leak. Automated systems had sealed off the affected area and those seals were holding, but losing the air and water there to vacuum would seriously eat into Grimaldi Station's life support reserves.
After arriving on site, Arthur cast fumos to create smoke to find the leaks followed by reparo to fix them. The two largest leaks were dealt with his way, tracking down three minor leaks took over an hour and the last one wasn't even in the ag-dome proper.
Reparo can fix many problems, but faulty electronics aren't one of them. Every sensor that showed a pressure difference had to be checked, preferably without opening the affected hatch as one particularly dim witted 'helper' had done. Arthur spent a few hours casting reparo to fix cosmetic damage and generally helping out wherever he could while those qualified to check the electronics did that. He was quite glad that systems on the moon were designed to fail safe instead of fail spectacularly.
He eventually got back to House Morton at two in the morning and crashed hard.
Sunday, November 20, 2005, 10:00 UTC
Luna, Grimaldi Crater, House Morton
Breakfast was a simple affair, cereal and oranges for those who wanted them. Coffee for those who drank it.
Todd popped two wedges into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. "Technically, you should have waited for Security before you went out and played repair crew yesterday."
"And Mattie shouldn't have gone to the Watchtower and left Lt. Davis behind," Arthur replied.
"No, she shouldn't've. We ain't talking about that though, we're talkin' 'bout you."
"Todd, Security's job is to protect me while I do what I do, not to keep me from doing things. Steve, may he rest in peace, never understood that or at least acted like he didn't. You're much better about it. I will simply say it was an emergency situation that called for an emergency response, which I gave. I didn't have time to wait."
"Mattie doesn't like it when you do he bibbity bobbity boo shtick in public."
"Everyone in Grimaldi Crater knows I'm a wizard. Most of them know that I occasionally am a Green Lantern. For whatever reason, I don't get folks coming up to me asking for miracles on demand. This is the one place I can do magic and nobody seems to care."
"Could you at least consider not pressing your luck so much?"
"Not right now."
.oOo.
"Sis, we need to talk," Arthur said to Becky as they sat at the kitchen table. He'd re-donned his spacesuit in case he and it were needed. Not every one had got off as lightly as Grimaldi Crater. From what he'd heard, the still under construction Tsiolkovsky City had taken significant damage.
"About what?" she asked in reply.
"A while back I asked if you wanted to start working for me. You never gave me an answer."
"I figured I was already working for you. Sophie."
"If you don't want to take care of Sophie, just say the word and I'll make other arrangements," Arthur stated firmly.
Becky felt very much that she'd been put on the spot and didn't like it. When Arthur returned from his first galactic trip, he'd offered her a two bedroom condo in Worthington within easy walking distance of a good elementary school and little over half a mile from the excellent Worthington Public Library for her and Carson. She'd been responsible for utilities and the condo fees. He covered the property taxes. For a young single mother still working her way through college, one who had shunned support from her parents, it had been a godsend.
And now, at last, she'd find out the cost.
"I'd rather not take care of Sophie any longer."
Arthur's face went very, very neutral which was never a good sign. "Okey dokey," he said before getting up from the table.
"That's it?" Becky inquired. "'Okey dokey' and off you go? We're not going to talk about this?"
"What is there to talk about? I asked a question, you answered it. I now need to make other arrangements to take care of Sophie. I'm not Ted Berry, I take my obligations seriously."
'Cheap shot', Becky thought about the reference to Carson's father, but did not say as Arthur exited the kitchen and walked down the hall to Sophie's room.
.oOo.
"Sophie, we have a problem. Becky says she doesn't want to take care of you anymore and Wilma is still in Port Oldridge taking care of little Bluebelle for Charlie and Sprink, so the only person who can take care of you right now Is me."
"That's okay. I know you will do your best, Arthur," the young Workforce girl said even as she wondered what she had done to offend Becky to the point where she didn't want to care for her any longer.
"Thank you, I'll try. But what it means is that we'll have to live in Secretariat for a few days."
Sophie nodded in agreement. The Tallah, as well as Rocky and Bullwinkle, were ferrying repair supplies and other things back and forth to Earth along with every other ship Greywolf and the Empire had available. The crew would be too busy working to take care of her, even though Sophie had shown she could take care of herself on board a starship. At that moment, only Lucy was onboard Secretariat, not really being useful in any working capacity. While Lucy had been a trained odalisque, she hadn't developed any skills that would actually be useful as a free crewperson, much to Arthur's annoyance.
"So I want you to pack enough clothes for a few days and anything you'll need for school. Then we'll go to Grimaldi Station and live on the ship for a few days until I can find a better solution."
"What might that be?" Sophie asked nervously.
"I have no idea."
Sunday, November 20, 2005, 18:00 UTC
Luna, Grimaldi Station, Secretariat
"Permission to come aboard?" Mattie asked as she and Crystal stood in the airlock with Lt. Davis carrying the football.
"Entrez you," Arthur said as the inner airlock door opened. "Welcome to the Secretariat."
"Weird looking ship," Crystal groused as she entered first and made sure there were no obvious threats in sight.
"But it's fast," Arthur replied, defending his white elephant. "For a civilian legal ship anyway."
Todd traded nods with Crystal as Arthur led the party around the central lift tube to the bridge.
"Mattie, Crystal, Lt. Davis, this is Lucy. Lucy, allow me to introduce Her Imperial Majesty, Martha the First, her bodyguard, Ms. Evans and her adjutant, Lt. Davis."
"Oh, very funny, Arthur," Mattie said. Turning to the very attractive Workforce series 69 former slave, she added, "We're not in court, so please call me 'Mattie'."
"Crystal," Crystal added. Miranda stayed silent and found a convenient bulkhead to lean against.
'This is the ruler of two hundred planets?' Lucy asked herself. She guessed the youngster was attractive enough by human standards with a significant bust and slender waist as obvious features despite the concealing nature of her attire. But then, she clearly wan't wearing makeup or had her hair styled as she did on her video appearances. She considered herself more attractive, but her wiles had proved useless against Arthur and Todd. "Yes... Mattie," she replied cautiously.
"Where's Sophie?" Mattie asked.
"In her cabin," Arthur replied. "There's a cabin at the top of the cylinder that sticks up from the middle of the ship. It's the only one with a porthole and Sophie glommed it right away."
"Should somebody go get her? She's pretty much the reason we're all here instead of House Morton or House Wayne."
"If we need her, we'll call her."
Arthur, rightly, grabbed the captain's chair for himself while Mattie took the adjacent First Mate's chair. Crystal put herself at the helm while Todd, who would have found that seat a touch cramped, took the engineer's station. Lucy retreated to a cabin on the port side of the bridge that had formerly belonged to the first mate. Knowing roughly what was to be discussed, she felt her presence would be a net negative.
"Becky's spooked and Carson isn't really happy about the situation," Mattie began
"I'm sorry about Carson, but Becky's problems are Becky's, not mine."
"What do you think those problems are?"
"From my side, I can't think of any. She said she didn't want to care for Sophie anymore and in response I got Sophie out of there. If Wilma was available, I'd have asked her to take over, but she's still helping Sprink and Charlie and I don't know when they'll be ready to take over everything for themselves. Probably when Bluebelle starts sleeping through the night and our best friends stop looking like they're participating in some sort of sleep deprivation experiment."
Mattie snorted and even Crystal gave a slightly unprofessional chuckle.
"From her perspective, she might be worried that I'm going to kick her off the Moon, which I have no intention of doing."
"Is this how your going to do conflict resolution? Anytime something you don't like happens, you grab your ball and walk away?"
"Becky doesn't want the job of raising Sophie. Seeing her raised is my job, whether I do it personally or not. I had to do something and I had to do it immediately."
The words 'obligation' and 'duty' flashed through Mattie's mind. Arthur wouldn't be Arthur if he didn't deal with the problem, although he method he'd chosen didn't seem to be anywhere near optimal. Of course, he'd only had the problem for eight hours. Even someone who 'always had a plan' needed time to come up with them.
"Near as I can tell," Todd put in unexpectedly, "Arthur here has kept a roof over his sister's head for going on four years and I don't think he's asked her for a lot in return."
'Carson's head,' Arthur thought.
"What's this about a job?" Mattie asked, not quite ignoring Todd's statement. "That's where this all started as far as I know."
"I'm to the point where I need a business manager. Becky's degree is in Business Administration and she needs a job. I figured it was a natural fit."
"She told me she's concentrating on getting her Lunar citizenship and that can be a job by itself."
Arthur nodded in acknowledgement. "True, but working for me gets her more spending money and the taxes she'd pay also help her get enough social duty credits to qualify for citizenship testing." Between the energy his galtech generators provided and the hydrogen he shipped up for water production, he'd earned his Lunar citizenship long ago, even if he still considered himself an American.
"I know you have an interest in the Abo! stores, but that's a pretty passive investment. Is having the Boris and Natasha available really making that much of a difference?"
"Freya and Pearl both got their Shuttle Pilot Third guild ratings and I rehired some of my former human employees from before the Abo rescue mission. I have qualified pilots for all four shuttles and between Lynn, Miqueletta, Ada and Kas'dra, I have enough technicians to go with them, though I'd like to pick up a couple of dedicated shuttle techs if I can."
"So you're just about ready to go into competition with Greywolf?"
"Not quite. Let's just say I can make as many Earth-Moon runs as I want and it would be nice if there were someone I could trust to oversee those runs other than myself. Especially with the Chumley on order. It'll haul at least five times as much as any of my other shuttles.'
Mattie fought off the urge to go into more detail on her fiancé's business plans. It'd been too long since she'd dealt with business at a personal level instead of an Imperial one. She missed it. "You wanted Becky as your rep for whatever this might turn into?
"Yeah, but Becks has other priorities right now and I'm lousy at personnel. Not looking forward to finding someone else for the job." He planned to call Mr. Griplink for advice when he got the chance. The goblin was good at personnel.
"You mentioned Freya and Pearl. I thought they were emigrating to New Karna?" Mattie asked before engaging in a hard stretch.
"So did I, but when they got there, they didn't like the situation. The Karnans are desperate for breeding age females, which Pearl and Freya are."
"I can understand that. After having two planets blown up under them, they need all the babies they can get."
"Remember Windfall? Pregnancy was damn near mandatory for breed-able females for a couple of generations. The Karnans are offering incentives for childbearing, but it seemed a little sketchy to them. They stayed with the Tallah.
"Freedom of choice was part of the deal I made with the Karnan leadership before I turned over a planet to them, but I think I see their point."
"Speaking of points, why are you here? We could have done this over a comm-console."
"The point is that I have every intention of sleeping in the same bed as my fiancé tonight and you're here." Arthur wouldn't come to House Wayne without someone to watch over Sophie, that was a given. Mattie had also been scrupulous about not having Sophie stay in House Wayne because her situation was an Arthur-thing, not an Arthur-and-Mattie-thing, at least until the wedding. Mattie saw the problem and a solution. While her security was no doubt less than thrilled by it, they didn't get a vote.
"Well in that case, I'll have to give you the nickel tour. Through the starboard hatch over there is the Captain's cabin..."
Monday, November 21, 2005, 06:00 UTC
Luna, Grimaldi Station, Secretariat
"Alarm off!" Arthur told the ship's computer. The incessant buzzing stopped immediately.
"Good morning," Mattie murmured from the circle of his arms.
Arthur leaned over and pecked her on the forehead. "Good morning to you too, gorgeous. This cabin has a small fresher, but it's sonic. If you want a water shower, you'll have to go to deck four or back to House Wayne."
"I don't suppose you have any coffee on board?"
"Sorry, the coffee and soda are on the Tallah and I don't know where the Tallah is right this second. I wasn't expecting you to stay the night, though I'm glad you did."
"I'm sure there'll be a list of damage reports as long as my arm when I get to the office." The preliminary reports could have been worse. Port Oldridge was closer to the epicenter and larger to begin with. They'd lost seven ag-domes, including their largest pig farm. Tsiolkovsky City in Mare Imbrium, still under construction, had taken significant damage, but no lives had been lost there. The Chinese water extraction plant at the North Pole had taken damage, but the Chinese, characteristically, weren't talking about it. Although they had turned down an offer of Imperial assistance. The Empire's South Pole water extraction facility had only cosmetic damage for which she was grateful. Farside was still assessing damage, but Mattie had made certain the prison her mother and Connie Koslowski were in was structurally sound.
"The railroads are closed for inspection, you'll have to ring over."
"Actually, I'll have Crystal take me back. As long as you're not going to be living in House Morton, I want you wearing the ring," Mattie said as she twisted it off and extended it to him.
Arthur looked a question at her, saw the response and took the ring.
Mattie used the limited available facilities to freshen up, gathered Crystal and 2LT Moreno, that shift's football carrier, then left for Port Oldridge.
.oOo.
"Lucy, I'm getting ready to take Sophie to school. Would you like to come with us?" Arthur asked the former slave who rated only as a crewman trainee.
It was phrased as a request, not an order. But getting off the ship for a bit, even if Grimaldi Crater might still have undiscovered structural damage, would help stave off an imminent attack of bulkhead fever. "I require some time to dress appropriately. Do we have it?"
"Five minutes."
She chose a set of coveralls which concealed everything that humans expected to be concealed, tight enough to accentuate her figure instead of disguise it and with a slit for her 'horse tail'. All her former crewmates had removed theirs, but Lucy, wanting to show some uniqueness, retained hers. Sure, it made some of the chairs humans used uncomfortable, but she was used to that. She even ran a styler, a small luxury she'd picked up on EEIII, through her hair to look as good as she could on such short notice.
If Arthur or Todd noticed, they didn't say anything, but they weren't the audience she was playing to.
.oOo.
"Carson!" Sophie cried when she saw him at the entrance to the school. They hugged and went inside where they could talk without any of the adults listening in.
"Are you OK?" he asked. He still wasn't sure if Sophie counted as a relative or not. Aunt Connie was, she'd been adopted and everything.
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"
"You and Uncle Arthur left in a hurry. Mom's upset, but she's pretending not to be."
"I think Arthur is upset too, but it's hard to tell with him sometimes."
"Grown ups," Carson said as if that explained everything. Which in this case, it kind of did.
.oOo.
"Mr. Morton, a moment of your time please."
"Mrs. Gerber, isn't it?" She was a tall, willowy, dark haired woman that Arthur guessed was in her early thirties and one of two teachers employed at the two room schoolhouse.
"There seem to be some anomalies in Sophie's enrollment."
"Are her fees paid?"
"Yes, but that's not what I'm asking about. There doesn't seem to be any paperwork establishing your legal guardianship over her."
"If anyone gives you trouble about that, let me know. I'll hand you their head the next morning."
It had been her question but she felt certain the head in question would be her own if she raised it too far. Grimaldi was a frontier. Rules weren't set in stone and in many cases not involving the health and safety of those living there, didn't even exist. The very attractive alien woman standing next to him, and other aliens associated with Mr. Morton's business interests, came and went to Grimaldi as they pleased. As they hadn't caused any trouble, at least not yet, no one had ever made any complaints about their presence, even if they seldom participated in the local economy. When they did, they always paid cash.
Despite her misgivings, Susan Gerber thought she had to try. "Still..."
Arthur cut her off immediately. "I may not be Sophie's guardian de jure, but I am her guardian de facto. Chief Justice Greenbriar didn't bring it up after he spoke to Sophie last month and if it works for him, I'm not giving a rat's ass about what anyone else has to say on the subject."
Wednesday, November 23, 2005, 10:33 UTC
Luna, Mare Serentatis. JLA Watchtower
It was an impressive structure, even damaged as it was. As the Rocky was making it's approach, Nancy, Kas'dra and Louie observed the Kryptonian and the Martian clearing debris and re-leveling the terrain so that reconstruction could begin. Guided into a shuttle bay, they landed and were greeted by Arsena, lwho was on monitor duty, subbing for Connor Hawke.
For security and safety reasons, Louie alone entered the facility to examine and possibly repair the JLA's damaged med tank. He tried not to crowd her as she ran her diagnostics, which she appreciated.
After twenty minutes of work, Louie informed Arsenal, "I can fix this, but I'll need some parts. Worst thing is the crack in the treatment tank. That needs replaced and it's the single largest part of the tank. There are a few sensors that need replaced and one of the molecular synthesizers is broken. You could run the tank without it, but at a reduced efficiency and with more strain on the remaining units. Best to replace it as well."
"I don't know if that's good news or bad news, but I'm sure it could be worse."
"The treatment tank masses approximately 500 kilograms. With assistance getting that properly fitted, the entire job could be done in about four standard hours. Unfortunately, I doubt you humans have the parts available. The nearest place that might have them is Epsilon Eridani III. Taia will have them, but that's much father away, making the shipping costs signifiant."
'Thank you, Miss..."
Louie pronounced her full name for him, all twenty three syllables. It contained sounds not native to English or any other language he knew.
Roy Harper decided not to embarrass himself. "Miss Louie. As for the cost, I don't think that's an issue."
"It is poor negotiation technique to make that information known too early in the process, although Ship Owner Morton is not the type who would cheat you. That said, I did have questions. You need a tank for an isolated cephalic unit?"
"A severed head, yes."
"And you do not wish to regrow his body?"
"I don't think we can. From my understanding, his genetics were altered to the point where stem cell cultures are... not an option." The actual explanation was well over his head, but he felt he was close enough.
"My crewmate, Flora, has the same problem. Her genetics are too different. It would take a major project, costing tens of tons, to develop a med tank program for her. She is the only member of her species I've ever seen. From what I understand, even the Oans don't know what she is or where she came from. But my point is that a life support unit capable of sustaining a severed head would cost much less than repairing this unit and be far simpler mechanically. Humans already do something similar to this with their 'pod person' prosthetics. This would be even simpler than that."
"We already have a replacement for this tank on order. At some point I'm sure we'll want this one repaired as well, but if we can take care of the problem without importing anything, that might be the best solution. I'll bring up the matter with Superman and let you know our decision."
As long as she got paid for the consultation, Louie didn't particularly care one way or the other.
Wednesday, November 20, 2005, 19:35 UTC
Luna, Port Oldridge, Mattie's quarters.
"Where's Sophie?" Mattie asked Arthur.
"I did something smart and got a sitter. I'll still need to fly back to Grimaldi later on, but I can at least spend the evening."
After asking Cyndi to make something 'quick and easy' for dinner, Mattie said, "I don't have anything scheduled tonight. Was there something you wanted to do?"
"Invite Sprink and Charlie over and do something not related to the wedding?"
The emergency caused by the moonquake was over even if things weren't quite back to normal yet. Mattie reached for her phone.
.oOo.
'Bright eyed and bushy tailed' were the exact opposite of what Charlie and Sprink were. But they were desperate to get out of their apartment, even if only for a few hours. They left their daughter in Wilma's care.
"Bluebelle eats, sleeps, gets her nappy changed and every so often, for a few minutes here and there, just lays there and looks absolutely adorable," Charlie said with his love and pride perfectly obvious.
Sprink added, "I have a lot more respect for my parents now. They went through all this with Nymphy and then had me."
"Fifth of seven children here," Arthur said, raising his hand.
"Fifth,' Charlie said emphatically. "Your parents hopefully knew what they were doing by then. I won't speak for Mattie, but I'm pretty sure this," he waved at himself and his wife, "is why I'm an only child."
Mattie had suspicions as to why she was an only child. She wasn't anywhere close to the truth. Changing the topic, Mattie said, "Instead of Yahtzee®, I thought we'd try something different, Scotland Yard®. Arthur, because of his x-ray vision, will have to be Mr. X. He hides information from us, but we don't need to hide information from him 'cause we're all on the same team."
Arthur, to avoid accusations of cheating, avoided games with hidden information like card games or Clue, even among people who trusted him not to cheat. "Works for me."
.oOo.
"I'm surprised at the number of places on this map I've actually been," Charlie said while moving one of his tokens toward a subway stop. Mr. X would reveal his location after his next turn and the ability to close in fast afterwards was useful.
"I never got to explore London as much as I'd would have liked," Arthur complained. "Most of the times I was there, it was usually just Diagon Alley."
"Charlie's shown me around a bit since we got hitched," Sprink stated. "I know there's a lot more to see too. After you two marry, we're going down for the rest of our maternity leave."
"Sounds fun," Mattie acknowledged. "If I wanted to officially go to London, it would probably take at least a month to set up. Sneaking down would be easy, but Crystal hates it when I do that." She moved her second token to a bus stop primarily meant to keep Arthur for having easy access to the river. "Arthur, are you still planing on heading down for Thanksgiving tomorrow?"
"Yeah. I wish you could join me."
"I wish I could too. Alas and darn it, I have staff meetings with the State Department and Minister Griplink. At least I'll get to have lunch with Anne, Sprink and Crystal."
"Hen do planning, which means I will be staying far, far away," Charlie put in.
"I certainly have some ideas," Crystal said from where she was sitting with Lt. Davis, trying to find out how her last date with Lt. Bennett had gone. Were he few yeas older, she might have made a play for him herself.
.oOo.
Arthur won the first game, lost the second game quickly and looked to be in trouble in the third. There weren't too many places he could logically be and Mattie, directing the defense, knew all of them. In an effort at distraction, Arthur said, "I guess the price of bacon is going up again."
Mattie replied, "True, but the air and water lost in those domes really cuts into our reserves. We need to round up another comet head for bulk nitrogen. Water can come from the southern polar mines, but it'll delay expansion plans. Fortunately, we should have enough oxygen since Tsiolkovsky City is getting delayed again."
"I swear, that project is cursed," Charlie stated, letting himself be drawn in.
"Did the JLA ever figure out what happened?" Sprink asked.
"Old Superman said that Flash saw 'something weird', so they called in the old Flash, who said the damage was caused by a 'multidimensional harmonic wave', whatever that is."
"If this becomes a regular thing, we may have to abandon Luna," Arthur said seriously.
"The Empire already has contingency plans for that," Mattie replied as she turned in a yellow taxi ticket and moved her token to a stop one station away from Mr. X.
"I'm not surprised."
Thursday, November 24, 2005: 13:35 EST
Grandview Heights, Morton residence
As Arthur still considered himself American more than an Imperial or even a Loonie, he wanted to celebrate Thanksgiving. So he gave his crew the day off and ringed down to Grandview Heights with his sister, nephew and Sophie.
"That was different," Becky said cautiously as they touched down.
"That was awesome!" Carson declared enthusiastically.
Sophie said nothing. She'd been a bit spooked during the trip, but had faith that her guardian would keep her safe. She was on an actual planet, with actual weather, for the first time in months. It was cool, but not cold. Cold was dangerous on a ship. It was almost always a sign that something was very wrong.
Teela was the first one to greet them with Elena a close second. Momma Morton was in the kitchen and it would take an Act of God to get her out of it while making Thanksgiving dinner. Arthur and Becky's father and uncles were in the basement watching Atlanta versus Detroit with Atlanta up 10-0 early in the second quarter. Hank was with his wife's extended family in Cleveland.
.oOo.
"When do we get to meet this fiance of yours?" his Aunt Mickie asked when he traipsed into the kitchen to grab a soda. He thought about snatching a deviled egg or two, but his mother gave him a 'look'. The eggs went unsnatched.
"Not right now. Mattie had some Imperial things today and while Grimaldi Crater is mostly Americans, most of the rest of the Moon isn't," Arthur explained. Theoretically, he could have sat in on the meetings as Mattie's Heir, but Mattie didn't begrudge him the occasional day off.
.oOo.
"Damn boy, when did you get so tall?" Arthur's Uncle Rich asked, having to actually look up to look Arthur in the eye for the first time. Unlike his Dunka uncles, Uncle Rich was sticking with soda. Just because he had a new gallbladder and a healthy liver was no reason to start drinking again after several years of sobriety.
"Side effect of living on the Moon. I'm a good inch taller than I would be otherwise because of the gravity.
.oOo.
Sophie felt a bit out of place. Carson was a few years younger than she was, and the next older person was Arthur's cousin Jack, who was about the same amount older. The next up from that was Arthur himself as his two younger siblings were in school in Scotland. No females even remotely close to her age were there. As a 'real live alien', she drew a bit of attention, but her inherent shyness kept her isolated from everyone except Carson.
All these people were, through blood or mating, related to Arthur. And this wasn't even all of them. Slaves were generally dissuaded from forming close relationships with other slaves. It was inefficient. Enhanced slaves, which she was quite happy to not have been, didn't have a choice about it at all. But she wasn't a slave anymore. Was it possible for her to have a family? Or join one? Would being a Workforce girl make that easier or harder or impossible?
She was still thinking about it when Teela asked if she and Carson wanted to play on the tire swing.
.oOo.
"So... What are your plans regarding Sophie?" his mother asked Arthur during the after dinner clean up. His uncles and their families had left, taking some of the leftovers with them.
"Right now? I'm thinking full time nanny, at least until my friends Charlie and Sprink no longer need Wilma to help with little Bluebelle." 'Still need a business manager too,' he added to himself.
"As nice as Wilma is, will she and Fred be the best thing for Sophie?"
"I don't know, Mom. I really don't. I thought Becky was doing just fine until she said she didn't want to be responsible for Sophie and dumped the problem back into my lap, which I admit is where it belongs."
"First, don't think of it as a problem. You have a lot more resources available to you than I and your father did raising the lot of you. Use them. I promise I won't consider it cheating if you do. Without those resources, you'd never have met Sophie in the first place and she would probably still be someone's slave. You'd have to screw things up pretty badly to get worse than that."
Saturday, November 26, 2005, 11:00 GMT
London, Soho, Berwick Street
'Dmitri Stepanov' set the kitchen timer for 15 minutes and turned off the burner. This potion needed to cool off before the next step according to the book and his own memories of brewing it to Professor Slughorn's satisfaction. "Amazingly useful gadget for a muggle device," he mused to his built-in audience.
"Far more accurate than an hourglass as well," Albus commented.
"So is a timing charm. This merely has the advantage of not needing any magic to function."
"Neither does an hourglass. Since you had us gather fluxweed during the full moon last week, I assume you're planing on brewing some poyjuice potion."
"If I can obtain bicorn horn and boomslang skin, then yes. The other ingredients are simple enough to obtain and one doesn't need to add a bit of the potion's subject until the vary last step. That gives excellent tactical flexibility."
"Remember 'Dmitri', it only works in duplicating humans and only those who are alive."
"Alas, I do." Dumbledore couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. "Although I wonder... Do you think Severus could brew up a version that could duplicate a goblin or house elf?"
"If there is anyone on this planet who can, he is the one."
Monday, November 29, 2005, 13:02 UTC
Luna, Grimaldi Crater, Arthur's apartment
The apartment was about as far away from House Morton as one could get and still be in Grimaldi. That wasn't intentional. It was just the first available thing he could find with three bedrooms and 'real' plumbing, which was a considerable luxury on Luna. That he had it on a month to month lease made it even more expensive, but he wasn't worried about that. He took the largest bedroom with its en suite bathroom, Sophie got the somewhat smaller bedroom across the hall and he'd turned the third into what he hoped would be a strictly temporary office. At least the vid phone worked. "Mr. Griplink, thank you for returning my call so quickly."
It had taken some time, but Arthur had learned that goblins could smile. "No trouble at all Arthur. My assistant informed me that this was personal business, not Imperial, correct?"
"Yes sir. First thing this morning, Lady St'laya paid off the loan she took from us to open the Abo! stores. Your half should have hit your Lantern Bank account by now."
"One moment while I check..." After a brief set of key clicks, the goblin informed him, "Found it. Once I verify the amount is correct, we'll simply be minority owners instead of taking a cut off the top."
"Star also asked about buying that 10% from us and I told her I'd speak to you about it. I'd rather not sell. It seems to have been a good investment so far and should be for the next couple of years at least."
"I'm in agreement with you, but I'll work up a quote. It'll likely be a much larger number than they're thinking." The returns had been excellent thus far and there was significant growth potential. He also would make a calculation on what a 'fair' price would be to buy out their 90% of the enterprise.
"That takes care of that, but the other reason I called is that I'm to the point where I really need a business manager. I offered the job to my sister Becky, but she has other priorities right now. I also need a full time caretaker for my... ward... Sophie, for at least a month or two, maybe longer."
"I'm sure Wilma and Fred are more than capable of caring for her."
"Wilma is helping Charlie and Sprink Adams right now and probably will be until after my wedding. While she and Fred can do the job, or Wilma do it by herself, it'd be bad optics if Fred alone is handling it. I've heard a few grumbles about my taking care of her because I'm a single male and therefore not fit to take care of a girl by myself."
"Ahh... Bad optics," Griplink said sympathetically. "For the most part, you've come across surprisingly well in the public eye. But I do see how some fools might consider what you're doing problematic. Having some women that you can point to and say that she's taking care of the child would be a good idea. Are there any members of your crew that you could trust with the job?"
"Vasco is somewhat fond of Sophie from my understanding. But she's not... I hate to say 'qualified', but I think it applies. Freedom is still too new for her to ask her to be responsible for anyone but herself yet. Maybe in another year or two she'd be ready, but not right now." Vasco was his best option with Louie second and Miqueletta a distant third.
"If you were on Earth, I doubt it would be a problem, but a short term solution may not be available up here."
"I can tough it out if I have to. But I'm definitely going to need someone to watch her while I'm on my honeymoon. Price isn't really an object, but reliability and trustworthiness definitely are. Same as with any business manager I might hire."
"I'm sure you can get someone from London Business School or perhaps Wharton."
"If my last name was Wayne, then yes, I probably could. I'd gladly settle for someone half as good as Lucius Fox. By galactic standards I'm wealthy enough to get a top notcher, but by Earth standards, I'm not worth a billion dollars yet."
"Once tungsten on Earth reaches its galactic value, you certainly will be."
"Yeah, but until then, my goals are to do some good and make some money, not make money by any means available."
"You want a socially conscientious business manager." It wasn't really a question
"Preferably one not opposed to relocating to Luna, although I'd expect that to come at a premium."
"I've an idea or two."
Tuesday, November 30, 2005, 7:30 GMT
London, Canary Wharf, 'Imperial Building'
Even at the early hour, the building under observation was buzzing with activity. Civilians and military personnel were arriving in considerable numbers, preparing for what was likely to be another busy workday. An incident of some sort had occurred on the moon two weeks prior and there had been a noticeable uptick in activity in most Imperial facilities afterwards.
"I assume you can feel the wards, Albus."
"Anti-apparition, more than one type. Some defensive wards, but they're all relatively new. Can't be more than three or four years old at most."
"Reasonably strong for their age, though," 'Dmitri' observed.
"With the Elder Wand, I could breech them without drawing a deep breath."
'Dmitri' snorted in contempt. "So could I. But we don't have the Elder Wand, do we?"
"With that little hawthorn stick you stole from your son's corpse I can still do it. It will simply take more effort and not count as a 'minor' spell. We'd both feel it afterwards," Dumbledore replied haughtily. Without 'Dmitri', Albus was certain he could not only breech those wards, but tracelessly bypass them. The demon's presence, suppressed as it was, greatly interfered with his native abilities and both of them knew it.
"If it becomes necessary, I would consider it a potentially useful investment of our power. But for the moment, we're not looking for a way in. We're looking for a way up."