Image: ID 116900672 © Tom Cerny | Dreamstime
Chapter 6
Song Jin-woo was an envoy for the UN's court system. His title indicated that he had limited power in the UN's bureaucracy. But in reality, Jin-woo had focused exclusively on cultivating power during his whole career. It was simply a matter of finding the boss's weak spot. And Jin-woo was an expert at that, in consequence, Song Jin-woo was one of the most important men at the UN.
Senator Conway had discovered Jin-woo's capabilities when the Terran Federation and the UN had worked together on common space interests. Since then he had always contacted Song when he needed a UN favor. This was one of those times.
“Hello Song,” said Conway. “I hope you are well.”
“Yes George, and how are you?” said Jin-woo.
“Very well. Song what I called you about is a problem in the Asteroid Belt me and my committee are having. And I believe it will be a problem for the UN eventually.”
“Yes. What is the problem Senator?”
“My informants tell me that Randall Benchley has a good chance of getting a ruling in your courts of res nullis for the Asteroid Belt. We also know that a young man named Martin Jackson, a relative of Abram Jackson, the agitator, is on his way to the Belt. We think he has been sent to organize the miners. As you know, once they make claims on the Belt it will be harder for us to impose our will. And if res nullis is declared it will be impossible.”
“I agree with you there Senator. So what do we do?”
“We believe that a message needs to be sent, a forceful message which will derail our adversaries or at least make them fearful to proceed.”
“I see, and what do you propose?”
“Well, we believe that without Abram Jackson there is a chance to influence the outcome in a way that serves our purpose. As you know, that old man has done more than anyone to advance the cause of Belt autonomy.”
“And?”
“And,” said Conway. “We believe that if he is taken out of the picture immediately we can push our cause with the UN and send a message to those working with Jackson that this is an issue that we will ruthlessly pursue if necessary. It should have a chilling effect on all those that support or work with the old man.”
“I see, and you think I am the one who can implement your, as you say, 'chilling effect'?”
“I know you Song. You have contacts that I, nor anyone knows about.”
“Very well Senator. I will take care of your, I mean our problem.”
Jin-woo could see the start of Conway's smile as his Annie closed the session.
Chapter 7
Because of his age and the fact he insisted on living alone after his wife had died, Abram Jackson worried his family. But he wasn't worried, and he always said if they couldn't quit worrying they could always move in with him and he would take care of them. Instead, they had all moved off-world, up among the lights in the sky that he loved so much to view through his small telescope. And he was proud they had moved. His great-nephew had tried to get him to move too, but a hundred and six years is a long time to spend in one place, then pull up and start over. So he stayed put and wrote a lot.
Nowadays he mostly worked on his tract which he called, “The Failure of the Human Will”. It was Abram's argument against the lack of nerve he perceived in those around him, the great “via inertiae” he called it. Despite the increased life span modern medicine could deliver, people seemed to dream less, attempt less, and accomplish less than their ancestors many times removed.
Abram thought it a failure of the spirit, a collective disease of civilization manifested and progressing into its last stage, chronic, when even to think and to plan became more audacious than they could possibly bring themselves to consider. Abram excused himself from this lack of incessant striving because of his age, but he was not as understanding when it came to younger people. They only seemed to care about the latest distraction, and not at all about their futures.
So Abram wrote and did what he could when asked, visiting people, talking to people and in general trying to wake people to their responsibilities for society's future. Most often he did this with a short letter of encouragement or less often a short nagment, Abram's word for holding people accountable. One of which he owed to his lawyer friend Randall whom he had not heard from since their visit.
Once dinner, a small salad and half sandwich, was behind him he sat down to write a brief note to Randall. In the letter, he pointed out that enough time had passed for Randall to make his decision and Abram would appreciate a reply so that he could pass it on to other interested parties. He asked if Randall had received the formal note and if so, had it applied the appropriate nag to his thinking. After some brief personal remarks about family Abram closed by reminding Randall that it was the future to which they owed their best efforts. A future where people that strive for something better would be rewarded for their hard work. Those that built would reap the rewards and not have it taken away by those that plunder. Where justice would be victorious, either through man's efforts or if not by man, through the Creator's design.
Abram often thought about his Creator. He talked with Him most days, he read His book, he looked for His manifestation in his life. At times he felt a connection with more than was seen by the eye, and he would smile. He did so that night as he fell asleep, thankful for another day. His last day on Earth as it would turn out.
Chapter 8
Randall was reading the latest report from his doctor when his Annie presented the keyhole camera image. There at the door, he was surprised to see a police robot and what appeared to be a plainclothes police officer. He set the Annie down on his desk as he got up to answer the knock. Randall opened the door.
“Mr. Randall C. Benchley,” asked the officer as he showed his badge.
“Yes,” said Randall.
“I'm detective Jameson. Could I come in and ask you some questions?”
“Of course.”
“You don't mind my robot?” asked the detective.
“No, not at all. Is he one of those new ones with the narrow-AI built-in?”
“He's quite recent, yes, surprisingly smart too. The fastest thing on four legs, makes the old model seem a bit of a clunker.”
“Now Mr. Benchley, I believe you know Abram Jackson of 64 West?”
“Yes, an old friend.”
“Have you heard from Mr. Jackson recently?”
“Well, I met with Abram about six weeks ago, he asked me to look into a matter of law for him. Unfortunately, I haven't had the time yet, you know how you get busy sometimes.”
“Yes, I understand. Would you have any news about Mr. Jackson's health.”
“Well, I don't know anything definitive, but I would say that the last time I saw him he seemed in good health, especially for someone his age.”
“I see. Now Mr. Benchley would you know if Mr. Jackson had any people that, let’s just say, might not wish him well?”
“Abram! Goodness no, I can't imagine anyone having a problem with Abram. He's always kind and polite to everyone I've ever seen him interact with. He's opinionated, I mean he has views on most things that he will express if asked. But by no means is he pushy or argumentative for argument's sake. Please, Detective Jameson, won't you tell me why you are asking all these questions?”
“I have something for you and some unfortunate news. This is a letter that we found at Mr. Jackson's apartment addressed to you. It was the last letter he wrote before he died.”
“Died,” said Randall reflexively.
“Yes, Mr. Benchley, Abram Jackson died last night in his sleep. But we, that is the police, suspect it was not from natural causes. We will know more tomorrow after the autopsy.”
“Abram dead,” said Randall shaking his head, “and you think it might have been foul play, I mean I can't believe it.”
“Well Mr. Benchley, you’ve been in the field of law long enough so that I don’t have to tell you that appearances are sometimes not what they seem. We are awaiting the autopsy results but it appears that Mr. Jackson died from carbon monoxide poisoning. His environmental unit apparently malfunctioned. But there is no log on the central computer at that complex recording such a failure. And you know as well as I that it is almost impossible for such a failure as that to occur in this day and age without it being recorded somewhere. That is why I said it is highly suspicious.”
“Yes Detective Jameson, I have to agree. May I ask what I can do to help with the investigation?”
“After you read the letter if you can think of any parties that might be involved in the matter of law that Mr. Jackson asked you to look into it would be helpful if you informed us.”
“Of course, I’ll let you know immediately if I find such information.”
“Thank you, Mr. Benchley and good day.”
“Good day, Detective.”
Randall watched the detective and his robotic assistant round the corner of the hall, his mind a blank.
Back inside his apartment, he looked at the letter the detective had left. Leave it to Abram, thought Randall, only he would send a paper letter to someone instead of electronically.
He picked up the letter and opened it. Instead of another missive from Abram, Randall found a typed, short paragraph.
It said simply, “If you received this, Abram Jackson is dead. If you continue his crusade for the Asteroid Belt, you will be also.”
Randall put the letter down and stared at it for several minutes, he would have to contact the detective. Then he straightened his back. He whispered aloud, “I might die doing it, but the Belt will be free.”
Eventually, he picked up his Annie and finished scanning his health report. The last checkup showed no signs of the cancer. The doctor recommended they discontinue treatment and monitor the situation as usual.
Well, at least I won't die from cancer.
Chapter 9
Donner Martin Jackson, the father of Martin Starlifter, received the news of the death of his great uncle Abram with shock. His most distinguishing feature, piercing dark blue eyes, was now somewhat blurred with emotion. He looked at the message again, it said that Abram had died in his sleep and the police were involved. Donner wondered why the police would be involved. He also wondered if the death wasn't too coincidental. What with his and Abram's efforts to ensure local autonomy for settlements in the Asteroid Belt.
Donner was worried, there were powerful people against any local autonomy, as his grandfather and he had discovered here on Mars some years before. And Martin was bound for the currently disputed area of the Belt at this very moment. He would have to find out more details about Abram's death, for Martin's sake, and maybe his own.
Donner looked at the viewing screen which showed the surface of Mars. Under that surface, more and larger buildings and more recently, domes were being built but Donner still preferred his natural solution to housing. His cave and most of the early settlements were based on such naturally occurring caves, which had been passed down in the Jackson family for a hundred years. It was the family home now and he couldn't imagine living anywhere else.
Looking at the surface Donner was struck by the harsh and sharply delineated light, just as he remembered it from his childhood. The colors and vistas as he first saw them some forty years ago hadn't changed.
So far man had made no changes to the Mars he remembered from boyhood. Human occupancy had left the surface of Mars relatively unmarked except where expeditions of exploration had traversed or dwellings were buried. Almost all human movement across the face of the planet was underground in evacuated tubes, a developing transportation system that could easily reach speeds of a thousand kilometers per hour on some routes.
All in all, Mars was a better home now than in his childhood years. But he doubted that would be the case if the Republic had been forced to run every project through the bureaucracy that Earth had become. The lack of response and outright obstructionism would surely have slowed many of the projects and eventually cost lives as well. That was why local autonomy was so important for those wishing to settle in the Asteroid Belt. They would know better than Earthlings or Martians what was necessary to make the Belt a home.
Donner put in a call to the lawyer that worked with the non-profit foundation trying to ensure Belt autonomy. Lawson answered the call himself.
“Hello Lawson,” said Donner. “I was wondering if you had some time to discuss an unfortunate situation that has just come up.”
“Of course, Donner, what is it?”
“I just received word that my great uncle Abram has died on Earth.”
“So sorry to hear.”
“Thank you. It was something of a shock but what concerns me is that the police seem to be involved in the case.”
“Really?”
“Yes, and I was wondering if you still had connections on Earth that maybe could look into the matter for me. I hesitate to take any action directly because of my involvement with the Foundation.”
“You think opposition to the Foundation could somehow be involved in your uncle's death?”
“I can't think of any reason anyone would want to harm uncle Abram. He was a private soul who didn't make waves. His only controversial stance that I am aware of was his active support for the Foundation. I believe he was trying to enlist a lawyer versed in Space Law, by the name of Randall Benchley.”
“Yes, I've heard of Benchley, he's at the top of his field. Listen, I have a friend who knew Benchley in school. I'll see what he can find out.”
“Thanks Lawson. I very much appreciate it, goodbye now.”
“Goodbye Donner.”
Donner would have to get a message to his son Martin as soon as possible.
Chapter 10
Martin had not seen Laura Lockwood since that night at the captain's table. Eventually, he asked the Chief Purser if she knew of Ms. Lockwood.
“Yes,” said the purser. “Ms. Lockwood has been taken off ship by a United Nations cruiser.”
“When did this happen?” asked Martin, surprised by what he had heard.
It turned out it had happened the same night that Martin had met Lockwood.
“I didn't know we were scheduled to rendezvous with a cruiser that night,” said Martin.
“Yes,” said the purser. “I believe you are right, but still that is what happened.”
“Thank you. Oh, one other thing. Do you know where this cruiser was headed?”
“Well, just between you and me sir, I believe it was headed for the Belt.”
The Belt, thought Martin as he watched the woman walk away.
Martin had just reached his room when the door announced a visitor. Opening the door Martin found one of the robot butlers waiting. The robot asked Martin's Annie for his transit authorization and once scanned presented Martin with a telegram. Martin’s Annie then downloaded the message. The robot thanked Martin and rolled back down the hallway.
His Annie read the message, it was from his father. “Martin I have to send you the bad news of the death of uncle Abram. It seems to be carbon monoxide poisoning. The police are involved. Conduct yourself accordingly.”
Martin sat down on the edge of the bed.
Poor uncle Abram. He was so kind and sweet.
He picked up his Annie and read again the words. “The police are involved. Conduct yourself accordingly”. Dad was telling him something wasn't right. He would have to be careful. Then the danger of the situation hit him.
Why did I say anything to that Lockwood woman? I suspect her sudden disappearance and uncle Abram's death are connected. It's too coincidental. She was either working for the same people that killed Uncle Abram, or she was working for another group just as capable of such an act. I'll have to keep my mouth shut from now on, he thought.
Regardless, whoever these people are they have proved they are willing to do whatever is necessary to get their way. They are also moving too fast for the law to provide much protection. It will take Randall Benchley some time before he gets a ruling of res nullis or even a stay of proceedings out of the courts. By that time it could be settled in fact by actions in the field, not in the courts.
We are going to have to move faster than we thought. This fact-finding mission needs to become more. We need to bring together all the independents in the Belt and reach a decision. We need to assert self-determination before the governments on Earth assert their suffocating authority. We . . .
He stopped himself.
No, I am going to have to take the initiative to make this happen. No one else can reach the Belt in time to handle the preparations. I don't know if they'll listen to a kid just out of the Academy, but I have to try. Even if I fail, I know that Uncle Abram would have been proud of my efforts.
Martin contacted the communications officer and requested passage aboard a Belt-direct fusion ship as soon as possible. He knew the cost would be prohibitive, but it was the Foundation's only chance to get to the Belt before Lockwood.
Comments
Post a Comment