Chapter 3
The Edwards Interorbital Food Pavilion
looks more like some sort of enclosed urban sprawl than the world's largest
cafeteria. Separated into six megapavilions, one for each of Earth’s populated
continents, each Grand Pavilion contains several smaller pavilions, all
serving ethnic, historic, and geographically representative cuisine.
Having developed a deep curiosity
about all things biological over the past several years, Blade would love
to sample some of the South American Pavilion's pre-Columbian insect cuisine,
supposedly the best available in the Northern Hemisphere, but the mere
mention of chili toasted millipedes will put Roselene off her food for
days, if not weeks.
"You want to eat Mexican tonight,
Sweety?" Blade asks. "How about a taco?"
"It’s not gonna be like Taco Bell;
is it?" Roselene looks around disappointed at not finding an International
Franchise Food pavilion.
"No, but it’ll still be good. More
like the New Mexicali."
"Okay, Mommy. Will they have red rice?"
Roselene asks as her mother leads her by the hand into the North American
Grand Pavilion.
"Almost positive." Blade smiles down.
The chamber of the Edwards Food Pavilion
exhibits what most on Earth have come to recognize as Space Station Grandeur.
The vast round vault easily spans several football stadiums, though its
rough carved ceiling arches only fifty meters above. The Pavilion floor
lay scatter with all manner of restaurant buildings and eating establishment,
each surrounded by landscaped dining areas. Meandering walkways and broad
promenades separate the various regions, giving the low vaulted expanse
a slight Disneyish effect. Above the scattered restaurants and promenades
light blue dome rocks hang almost invisibly, their defused bio-luminescent
coating emanating a light as bright as the summer sky. Only the occasional
flight of birds gives the ceiling any real sense of distance.
With a bit of searching Blade finds
several small aviary niches high up along the Pavilion's outer wall.
It seems the conflict between the
disadvantages of unregulated bird liter and Humanity’s requirement for
some form of open biosphere had long ago been settled in favor of the birds.
Space can be extremely sterile. A certain degree of biological messiness
soon becomes not only exotic, but somewhat necessary. True to her training
Blade’s first thoughts fall to water requirements per bird and guano collection
and utilization.
I wonder if the atmospheric
biofilters require a shorter maintenance cycle? Blade ponders while
pointing out a flight of birds to Roselene. Avian virii can really
screw up a bio-filtration system. And, who takes care of feather
disposal and nest litter?
The sight of birds only make Roselene
want to hurry up and get their food. She’s heard that Pavilion birds will
eat right from your hand. Crunched tortilla chips should make good bait.
After filling their trays at a Tex-Mex
bar Blade directs Roselene to a small booth near a Spanish fountain. Roselene
likes the happy splashing water, but she’s more interested in the birds.
As they settle into their booth a
tall thin man in a black jumper flying the distinctive yellow arm bands
of AeroDynamic Mining Corp sets a half eaten tray of food down on the empty
table beside them. The man seems a bit young to be a real space miner,
not much older than Blade herself. Maybe twenty-six Es at most. His straight
brown hair and an olive complexion look slightly Central American, and
somewhat familiar. Then a wide grin splits his face from ear to ear and
Blade realizes exactly who he is.
"Howdy, cousin." Fred smiles then
nods at Roselene. "I see the family tradition continues. You DeSilva girls
still cranking out a line of orbit-gorgeous babies."
"Hello, Fredy." Blade nods across
the table at her daughter. "Roselene, I’d like you to meet your second…
no, he’s my second, your third-cousin Frederico Davis. Fredy, this is my
daughter Roselene Rain."
"To be sure." Fred grins. "Pleased
to meet you, Roselene." His goofy expression nearly makes Blade laugh out
loud, but she manages to restrain herself to a grin.
"I’m assuming you've heard from our
dear Aunt June." Fred’s enthusiasm for the subject seems about the same
as Blade’s.
"Try and stop her." Blade’s eyes roll
in long sufferance.
"Right. So, if I don’t hang-out with
you guys for a while and give her a fully verifiable account…" Fred casually
flicks a thumb up at a public input protruding from the restaurant wall.
"Then our dear Auntie June will be pestering me about it all the way out
to the Belt."
"Both of us." Blade nods in agreement.
Fred almost looks cute, in a pathetic geeky sort of way. His face has always
been a bit too round for Blade’s taste. Not enough chin. And that face
splitting grin make him look like a skinny, slightly Latin, Alfred E. Newman.
But,
at least he’s not acting all weird about my "tattoo dance".
"Come join us?" Blade smiles. "Scoot
over, honey. Give your cousin Fredy some room."
"Thanks. I think I will." Fred smiles.
As they eat and continue talking Blade
finds Fred’s company considerably more comforting than she’d imagined;
even as she’s intellectually tries to distance herself from the notion
of actually needing a man’s protection to immigrate out.
Fred wrestles with similar a confusion.
Having just dedicated nearly half his life to getting out to the Belt,
the very last thing he needs right now is any involvement with any non-Belt
non-AeroDyn female. Unfortunately a touch of loneliness and the endless
waiting has been getting to him. Right now, any distraction seems a good
one.
Besides, Blade has always been one
of Fred’s secret crushes. He even vaguely recalls being at her first birthday.
As he remembers it, little Bladie got all mad and shredded her birthday
cake when one of the other kids blew out her candle. Fred smiles at the
notion as her grown-up counter-part sits across the table from him all
straight-backed and proper.
"So, when’d you guys get in?" Fred
asks while consuming what’s left of his Carni Enchilada.
"This morning. How about you?"
"Oh, about a week-and-a-half to long
ago."
"Why'd you come down so soon?" Blade
reaches across the booth to try and stop Roselene from feeding the birds
and eat her own meal, but too little success.
"A good idea at the time." Fred shrugs.
"My rent was due and most of my accounts were either frozen or in some
sort of Immigration Escrow. And, I hated not being here, and then again
still not being there." Fred’s grin twists into a confused wrinkle. "Did
that make any sense?"
"Yah." Blade smiles. "Well, at least
to me it did."
Fred likes it when Blade smiles.
"The up-side is, if there’s anything,
and I mean anything, you want to know about this hole-in-the-ground
just ask. There’s been absolutely nothing to do down here but walk around
and check-out the works."
"Thanks. We might just have to take
you up on that. So far this place looks sort of big and icebergish."
"And, you’re the Titanic?"
"Something like that. Somewhere off
in the background I keep hearing the band play Nearer My God To Thee."
"You know, Blade." Fred grins. "That’s
what I always liked about you. You actually have more than one kind of
brains. As I remember it, you were about the only one of the DeSilva girls
who could ever open her mouth without sounding totally stupid." Fred finds
himself quickly treading on questionable ground as he listens to the words
fall out of his mouth; a habit he’s sure will someday be his death. Blade
squints back a coy smile.
"I take it you disapprove of the blonde
side of your mother’s family?" She teases, almost.
"Not disapprove, so much, it’s just
that… well, just look at her." Fred nods down next to him
at Roselene. Even with refried beans smeared on her lip she's still a poster
child for health, beauty, and a fortunate genetic background.
"Of your grandpa Bill’s three daughters
your mom's the only one who ever had a son. There were nine of you girls,
and you all looked exactly like that. And, all born within about five years
of each other. You guys use to trade boyfriends like they were fashion
accessories."
"They were." Blade smiles.
"Yes, I know." Fred nods. "And, I’m
glad I was never one of them."
"We were all pretty
wild back then." Blade pauses, watching for the slightest smirk as Fred
sips at his limed Pacifico. "But, as I remember it, most of you boys were
just as brainlessly hormonal as any of us girls."
Fred nods quick agreement, silently
conceding all points in hopes of moving on to safer subjects.
"I see your going out to do a little
teraforming for Atlantis Corp." Fred indicates Blade’s sky-blue jumper.
"You riding or working?"
"Working. Got a gigaliter of biotics
with my name on it in the hold of the SS Flying Jib as we
speak. Twelve-hundred-and-seventy-three new varieties, each with its own
vital nutritional and critical environmental factors."
"Wow. Now you really got me feelin’
slack. I’m just along for the ride."
"So, where are you finalling out to?"
Blade asks. "June tells us you’re on for all the way out to the Belt."
"Yes, Ma’am. Icetroid miner
Fred, that’s me."
"That’s not how you say it." Roselene
peeps, frightening away a small flutter of birds. "It’s As-teroid."
"Right you are, little missy." Fred
smiles down at the bright blue eyes squinting up at him from under a bumpily
brow. "But, the asteroids I’ll be looking for are mostly made of ice, so
we call them icetroids."
"That’s silly." Roselene curls up
her bean smeared lip.
"Yes, it is." Fred agrees. "But then,
grownups do lots of silly things."
Roselene looks back down at her jumbled
plate of rice and beans still dissatisfied with Fred’s non-answer. The
tiny girl persists.
"But, why?"
"Why what?" Fred has found that this
response usually sends a child into a logical tail-spin, most of them never
having learned how to actually frame the questions they ask. Not Roselene.
"Why do you want to find icer’roids?"
"Well…" Fred looks across the table
at Blade.
"Help yourself." The child’s mother
smiles.
"Well, you see on Mars they have this
thing called the Teraformation Treaty that says…"
"Yes I know. It says that everybody
on Mars gets private property if they help teraform everything. Everyone
knows that. That’s why Mommy and me are going out to Mars to help Atlantis
Corp."
"Yes." Fred agrees taking a quick
appreciative glance across the table at Blade. "Yes, that’s right. Well,
some of the aerospace companies, like the one I work for, decided that
the best way they could help teraform Mars was by putting more water into
the atmosphere. So we drop icetroids from the Belt. We skip ‘em in smooth
across the thin Martian sky, then let the water trickle down slow like
snow." Fred slices his hand through the air then wiggles his fingers down
at Roselene; much to the tiny girl’s delight.
"If you’re lucky." Blade jibes.
"Or smart." Fred grins his geekyist
grin. "So, what’re you two doing after dinner? I could give you the grand
tour of Edwards, or maybe one of the common publics. There’s usually Family
scheduled around here somewhere."
"Which site?" Roselene seems suddenly
interested.
"Fox-Disney, most likely."
"Oh." The girl sags disappointed.
Fred’s head shakes in hopelessly confusion. A little girl that doesn’t
like Fox-Disney? Across the table Blade smiles at his confusion.
"She’s not much for fuzzy puppets
and fairy princesses. My girl is more into the GooseBumps and ThreatZone
stuff. She likes sites where big things fly around and monsters go bump."
"Oh, I see. Yes." Fred teases. "Now
that you mention it, Roselene does bare a striking resemblance to Xaniila
of Zix.
"Tell me, Princess Warrior, how about
you and me going one on one down in the arcade. The VR pods just got a
new download of Empire of Zix." Fred grins up at Blade somewhat
embarrassed. "Like I said, there’s absolutely nothing to
do down here."
"Did you get past the Crystal Gate
and steal one of the spaceships yet?" Roselene asks.
"What?" Fred stares down at the tiny
child sitting next to him.
"Did you make it past the Crystal
Gate into the Space Port? You know, where all the spaceships are."
"Who told you about that?" Fred asks
dubiously. This download has been out for less than seventy-two hours.
"I hit the flat-screen shareversion
of the new Zix yesterday after school. It’s not really as good as the VR
arcade, but it’s still fun. Mommy, can we go back and get my contacts after
diner?"
"She’s serious, isn’t she?" Fred asks.
Blade nods in reply. "And she’s already made it through the gate and into
the spaceport?"
"I guess. If she says so." Blade shrugs.
"I did!" Roselene insists, surprising
Fred at just how intimidating a four-year-old becomes when their honor
has been called into question.
"Hold on, Princess, I believe you."
Fred smiles. "So, what do you say? You two want to go hang out at the VR
pods? First hour's on me. I spent half of yesterday trying to get past
that stupid gate. You’ll probably be saving me money."
"Can we, Mommy!" Roselene bounces
in anticipation, her nibbled taco and plate of rice and beans all but forgotten.
"Maybe later." Blade smiles. "Eat
some more of your dinner first and maybe we'll go back and get our contacts."
Much to Blade's surprise Roselene seems to comply, stuffing another bite
of taco into her bean smeared mouth.
"You guys down in Family?" Fred asks
as he eliminates his final bite of enchilada.
"No." Blade shakes her head. "Single
Female."
"Really? But, you’ll be in Family
up on the Jib; right?"
"No." Blades head twists slightly.
"We’re in one of the .3g doubles."
"Wow." The visualization of living
one year in a near weightless closet with a four-year-old hits him. Double
cabins work fairly well for married couples, or a pair of crewmen on rotating
shift, but the tiny cells are much too small to permanently house an adult
and child.
"If you don’t mind my asking." Fred
tries not to sound pitying. "What happened? I thought Family was still
under-booked."
"They are. It’s just that Atlantis
Corp had to tweak a couple rules to get us quartered at all. You see, the
minimum age for immigration is still six Es and Roselene…"
"You mean, she’s not even six yet?"
Then after considering the math Fred shakes his head. "No. I guess she
couldn’t be, could she."
"No," Blade looks for, but still fails
to find a salacious smirk. "She turns five about halfway out."
"So, if you’re here at all that means
you've got an exemption; right?"
"UN Immigration Form 1492A." Blade
nods. "Takes a year."
"So, if you’ve got the exemption,
then what’s Roselene’s age got to do with quartering you two out in a double?"
"Well, there’s still this small item
about the partial restriction against single parent immigration. Everyone's
sure that rule will change come the next election, but in the mean time
if Atlantis Corp wants to quarter us in Family they’ll have to ask TransOrbital
to bend the letter of their UN charter. And as I understand it, within
corporate circles that sort of thing is considered impolite."
"So, rather than offend one of their
fellow corporate citizens your corp decided not to apply you for Family
Quarters." Fred nods finally understanding. "How terribly politic of them."
"Mommy, can we to go to the arcade
now?" Roselene all but whines, her plate somewhat better smeared that before,
but no less empty.
"You sure you’re finished?"
Blade squints down at the girl’s half eaten plate.
"Uh huh." Roselene nods. Blade knows
Roselene will be hungry again soon, but sees no advantage in forcing her
daughter to eat. Considering the day's excitement it’s surprising Roselene
ate anything at all.
"You two aren’t going to gross me
out or anything, are you?" Blade expresses healthy suspicion. "This isn’t
one of those slasher games with all kinds of guts and blood flying around
everywhere, is it?"
"Uh uh, Mommy." Roselene shakes her
head. "You get to fly this spaceship and steal all kinds of cool stuff
from all these scary monsters. And, there’s castles and stuff. It’s way
stellar, you’ll see."
"Don’t worry." Fred tells Blade. "It’s
a good game. Got a Family Level setting. Great simulated presence and character
costuming. And, all the guts and gratuitous sex is optional. We won't even
turn them on. It'll be fun, you'll see."
"Okay." Blade concedes. "If you say
so."
"Way stellar." Fred grins back.
"Now as for myself, I make a rather smashing Trogship Captain, and our
Princess Warrior Xaniila could be none other than Miss Roselene, but who
shall Blade play?" Fred asks down at the child in the booth next to him.
"The Sorceress Zainia?" Fred ventures.
"No!" Roselene flashes up mischievously.
"Let’s make Mommy play Jix!"
"Yes, Jix!" Fred grins. "The orphaned
slave girl."
"What?" A look of total despair pinches
Blade’s face.
"Oh, don’t look so frightened." Fred
scolds teasingly. "Jix is this game's ultimate survivor. She can get into,
around, and through almost anything at any time. Pick any lock. She’s got
no physical power, so you’d better stick close, but Jix is virtually impossible
to hit, and even harder to kill. Trust me, you’ll have fun."
"Whatever." Blade sighs. "Just
remember, bedtime for the Princess Warrior is 20:30 Local."
"Yes, Ma’am." Fred mock salutes.
Disinterested in logistics Roselene
continues to feed broken tortilla chips to the sparrows while her mother
talks to her cousin Fred.
Then, without warning, this silly
notion just sort of stumbles into Blade's mind.
Chapter 4
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