CHAPTER 27
There was going to be no problem with the availability of crayfish.
Every ledge under the bits of patch reef was packed with waving antennae. The only thing more prolific than crayfish seemed to be the same species that had hit his hook. If it was edible, and Jason would bet it was, it was going to be a major food species. The unnamed fish was consistent in size, about fifteen inches in length, and there were multiple large schools of them.
But he didn’t intend to catch them in this lagoon. Better to catch them elsewhere so these would be available exclusively for him.
He had attached a shark repeller to his ankle and, trusting the shark repellers, he paddled out to the barrier reef. Everywhere the reef was alive with life, blue and green parrot fish, the red sort of snapper, bigger fish that looked suspiciously like grouper. Some of those, even in the shallow waters of the lagoon, were massive. They darted away as a larger predator passed.
Dozens of species of smaller fish. Minor pop stars were about to have minor fish named after them.
There were also giant oysters scattered around. From what he’d heard, they were inedible but interesting. He’d never seen one with his own eyes. If you put something into their open shells, they snapped shut and wouldn’t reopen for a long time. It was hoary legend that divers had died caught by the giant bivalves.
He snorkeled back to the hooch and climbed out, rubbing the saltwater off his face. It felt good. The sun, the saltwater, the breeze; not for the first time he wondered if he was having a stroke and this was what he was imagining as he was dying.
If so, he was going to roll with it.
“Alrighty,” Jason muttered. “To work.”
“Finally,” Jewel replied.
“Screw you,” Jason said. “Let’s start with building the boat.”
He went in the hooch and switched his mask and fins for smartglasses then jumped back in the water. He waded over to one of the conexes as it opened and flexmet flowed onto the beach. The tide had been going out and there was a bit more room for the material. The flex formed a boat and the bots started loading ballast, weights, gear and offal.
Once the ballast and the metal weights were loaded, he set off across the lagoon. Then he stopped and drove back to the pier. He walked into the hooch, got his mask and fins and got back on the boat. Then he motored off again.
“Pick us up, move us over to the southwest lagoon, and put us down in about thirty to forty feet of water,” Jason said. “Make it so.”
With assistance from Herman he had enough lift.
The view of the crystal waters of the lagoon was spectacular. Large fish darted away from the shadow of the flying boat and the patchwork of coral was clearly evident. It was also much nicer flying than in Wilson Bay. The air was cooling on his face and rain was months away.
The boat drifted down to the larger lagoon and settled in gently.
He brought up a map of the lagoon from the overhead and laid a path through water that didn’t appear to have patch reef.
“Lay down traps through here until you are either out of flexmet, out of weights or out of bait,” Jason said. “Not on the reef—on the sand or sea grass. In the meantime, have the rest of the Alfreds and Herman move all the conexes that aren’t related directly to the camp over to this side of the island. When they’re done moving the conexes, keep one Alfred over by the hooch along with . . . ten drones. Make sure they stay charged . . . Make it so.”
“And you are?” Jewel asked as the boat began to move.
“I’m going along for the ride in case I haven’t thought of everything,” Jason said. “When I’m sure it’s working, we’ll head in closer and then I’ll swim in.”
The traps formed off the back of the boat and disappeared into the water without a splash; the material of the trap was literally the substance of the boat.
It took about an hour to lay down the test traps by which time the swift tropical sunrise had come and gone. Crysador and Geryon were just setting over the islands to the west as Luna Nova was rising behind crater island.
“The hurtling moons of Barsoom,” Jason said quietly.
“And we are out of weights,” Jewel said.
“How’s the charge on this thing?” Jason asked. A good bit of the substance of the boat was gone as well.
“At least eight more hours,” Jewel said. “Driving through the water is not as energy intensive as contragravity. And it’s a lot easier here than Wilson Bay.”
“Then let’s head back to the hooch,” Jason said. “We can check these in the morning.”
When he got back, he waded ashore and checked out the outdoor kitchen.
The bots had constructed an outdoor grill made from slabs of basalt with a metal grill he’d picked up on the net. In addition, there was a prep area made from built-up basalt with an ironwood top and a sink. The only concession to flexmet was the faucet.
He marinated the fillets of the unnamed fish in some oil and Bellerophon herbs while the grill heated. He also put some wild onions, carrots and potatoes in aluminum foil and set them on the grill to cook.
When the grill was heated, he tossed the fillets on the fire, waited a couple of minutes, turned them, waited a minute more and pulled them off. He was hungry and they were probably cooked enough.
He carried those and the aluminum foil vegetables back to the porch, grabbed a Purple Lightning, high test, and sat down to dinner.
“Tastes like snapper,” Jason said after a bite. “Sort of.”
“Wrasse has a slightly different texture to it,” Jewel said. “According to literature. Normally.”
“It’s good,” Jason said. “Needs some Sheila’s Thyme and a bit of salt and pepper but it’s good. Buttery. Hmmm . . . Butter snapper? Just call it Sorta Snapper.”
“Because it’s sort of like snapper?” Jewel said with a sigh. “You and names. This island chain is unnamed.”
“Really?” Jason said. “You can see it from space. That’s how I found it.”
“First to land,” Jewel pointed out.
“Hmmm . . . ” Jason thought of a name immediately but then rejected it. Then thought of it again.
“I hate doing this,” Jason said. “It just isn’t me. But . . . the Graham Islands.”
“Finally!” Jewel said.
* * *
“We gonna need a bigger boat,” Jason said as the first trap came aboard stuffed full of crayfish.
The plan was to load them into coffins. He’d brought very few cases because the calculation was that the crayfish could handle the weight packed into coffins in the short time before they were put in stasis.
The problem was that the boat would only hold twelve coffins.
Just the test traps he’d put down the night before would more than fill that. There were, again, dozens of edible species found in the lagoon besides the lobster. It was a smorgasbord.
The flex moved the crayfish into the first coffin and then closed it to keep them in stasis. Most of them were huge, the sort of giant crayfish you rarely saw anymore on earth.
“Put the traps back out?” Jewel asked.
“Need more bait,” Jason said. “And not till this evening.”
“While I know that’s the normal method,” Jewel said, “with the plethora of crayfish in this lagoon . . . you can probably day trap.”
“No,” Jason said. “We’re here to test, not exploit. We’ll need more gear, more bait and more flex to exploit. We’ll stick with the plan.”
* * *
“Hey, Gil,” Jason said thoughtfully. “I need to noodle something with you money-wise.”
Harvesting was going well. Too well. Jason had been checking the reefs and there were fewer and fewer crayfish in view. He was considering suspending the harvest for now. There was an entire other lagoon on the other side of the channel. The problem wasn’t getting the boats there, the problem was getting the containers and boats back: The center channel was much rougher than the lagoons.
In the meantime, he was letting the bots handle it while doing some business. Work, work, work . . .
“Go,” Gil said. He was apparently sitting in a real office now. Or it was a fake background.
Jason was catching up on lunch with some boiled tree crab. It tasted pretty much like regular crab.
“I want to get more shares in the fuel and gas mine,” Jason said. “Twelve Bravo.”
“Shares or units?” Gil asked.
“Sorry, units,” Jason said. “What I’m considering is offering, say, a credit for a unit trade. Most people have their trade requests turned off and the ones that left it up to their AIs have mostly traded. But if I’m offering some cash as well, people’s AIs might let the request through. And the company is making money. I know I’ve got some. I also know that I’ve left that sort of thing up to you. Thoughts?”
“Depends on what you’re trading away,” Gil said. “But the truth is, fuel and gas mines will probably be high profit which means high lease. So, most trades will probably be worthwhile. Compared to, say, commercial space for example. But I’d suggest waiting for the quarter.”
“Oookay?” Jason said.
“I talked to Tim and he’s willing to do a dividend payment on the quarter,” Gil said. “You gave me permission to have that conversation.”
“Right,” Jason said.
“I’d planned on moving most of it to James to invest,” Gil said. “Including in a company that wants to get one of the fuel mines up and going. If you wait till the dividend payment, it will be a reasonable investment. One I’d recommend. Your money is your money, Jason. But that’s my advice.”
“And I will take that advice,” Jason said.
“Where are you this time?” Gil asked. “Is that a palm-frond wall?”
“Uh, yeah,” Jason said. “I’m exploring some commercial fishing opportunities in the south Pallas.”
“Commercial fishing opportunities, huh,” Gil said. “Looks like you’re just hanging out in the tropics to me.”
“I’m doing some . . . test traps . . . ” Jason said. “Work with me, here. It’s going to make money. The reefs are crawling with gigantic crayfish! And there’s . . . fish and stuff. We’ll make big bank off this!”
“I’m sure you will,” Gil said drily. “As I sit here and pore over spreadsheets.”
“That’s what pays your bills?” Jason said, shrugging. “Figuring out new profit-making ventures pays mine?”
“How did that get built?” Gil asked.
“Bots, drones and flexmet,” Jason said. “Don’t, and I cannot stress this enough, invest in home construction companies. Not unless I start them. Which I might.”
“I’ll pass that on to James,” Gil said thoughtfully. “There are people looking at doing developments on the surface. If you can find a place safe enough most people would want to live there.”
“Developments, sure,” Jason said. “But home construction: There’s going to be a lot of people who just know how to work with their hands that are going to be in hard shape. If there is something you can’t do with flexmet and bots . . . Chemistry. That’s about it. The bots and my partner in wood built a house in the last place I was set up in less than two days. And that was figuring out stuff. This was built in five hours. All robotic workers.”
“I’ll pass that on to James as well,” Gil said. “Anything else?”
“See you on the flip side,” Jason said.
He thought about what else he had to cover and read through the to-do list on his phone.
“No . . . not yet . . . ” He sighed after a moment. One item had to be covered. “Jewel, see if Tim’s available . . . ”
Maybe he’d be busy. He was probably busy.
“Hey, partner,” Tim replied. “Long time no contact. Partner.”
“No crocodiles!” Jason said, waving his arms. “No bears! No, and I mean absolutely no, wolves! No large predators at all! No mosquitoes! Just lots of reefs and therefore lots of crayfish! We’ll totally make bank. Also, I’m shipping land crab. Coconut land crab is a delicacy and we need to treat it that way. Hold back most of it and if we sell it, sell it for big credit: They’re relatively rare.”
“I looked them up,” Tim said. “Or rather had someone do it. They’re extremely rare and reputed to be one of the top delicacies on Earth. They’ll be treated that way. On the other hand, most of the rest of the land crab you’re loading is small stuff.”
“There’s ethnic groups that will go for it,” Jason said, picking crab out of the shell. “Crab is crab, except for coconut crab. Everybody likes crab.
“Next item on the agenda. We need to do the twenty-thousand-foot drops repeatedly. And I’d like to find volunteers who will try going down that way in stasis. Same deal. I front the money for the drop, you repay me less loiter cost to analyze the drop.”
“What is this about?” Tim asked. “’Cause while it might save Brandywine some money, I’m not seeing the direct value.”
“I said it wasn’t directly related to Brandywine,” Jason said. “Though it may help in many ways. It’s about the big ships. Specifically, my big ship, Spaceship Four. Cause I’m the majority unit holder. If I can find a way to drop colony sets this way . . . ”
“Ah, Jesus, Jason,” Tim said, shaking his head. “You really think you can find a bunch of people . . . ”
“One thousand six hundred and sixty-six,” Jason said.
“That many people to drop in stasis from twenty thousand feet?” Tim said.
“Or wait ten years to get on the ground?” Jason asked. “We’ve talked about the different conditions in different areas on the ground especially in the temperate regions, right?”
“Yes,” Tim said.
“Instead of sending one twelve or six pack at a time, we use a hundred pack to drop multiples along the north-south axis,” Jason said. “The officer or team will have to go down in stasis, but if the ship doesn’t even have to reach the ground for multiple drops . . . It should save Brandywine money. We’ve just got to test it enough that it’s proven effective.”
“Let me think about this for a second,” Tim said, leaning back in his chair. “What about picking up the cargo? We don’t get paid till it’s on the station and shipped to a customer.”
“A twelve pack, twenty-five, hell a hundred pack, can go from point to point,” Jason said. “The bots can lift conexes into the air. At least twelve at a time. The ship pulls up, loads the cargo, the bot drops back to work on the ground and the ship leaves. It’s a more efficient way to load, anyway. Logistics, remember?”
“Lemme pull John in on this,” Tim said.
“Wassup?”
John Sprecher was the only logistics guy Jason had ever met who was more inventive and proactive than he was. He’d been first choice for a log guy for Brandywine.
On the other hand, he was a serious city guy who thought parks were too natural. So, he wouldn’t try to bump Jason out of a job and he could, quite frankly, keep the logistics office.
His only annoying feature was he was a Gen X who had stuck on the whole “Waaaaassssup” thing. Which had been annoying enough at the time.
“Jason has some explaining to do,” Tim said.
When Jason was done, John nodded thoughtfully. “That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” John said. “I hate it.”
“Thank you,” Tim declared.
“It’s brilliant,” John continued.
“Wait . . . what?” Tim said.
“We’re putting people down at an insane rate,” John said. “Or at least you want to put people down on the planet at an insane rate. Shipping rates are going through the roof as more and more people find money to go to the surface. It’s only going to get worse as the production facilities come online and we need interspace traffic. So, finding a way to get stuff up and down is the issue. We don’t get paid till we ship to a customer. While there are deadheads, they and we want full cargoes. And we need to ship both directions. But the drop requires a tractor onboard, right?”
“Right,” Jason said.
“That’s an issue,” John said. “Apropos of nothing, it would help if we concentrated at least on, say, one continent instead of the entire world. As an example, dropping one twelve pack on a tropical island in the middle of an ocean in the middle of nowhere with no other ships within ten thousand kilometers!”
“Sounds like a problem for the log and shipping guy to me,” Jason said, grinning.
“You said it was a terrible idea,” Tim said, puzzled.
“I wish I’d thought of it. I hate when somebody comes up with a better idea than me.”
“Almost finished,” Tim said. “John, find a project officer to figure this out. Look for someone with airborne experience. Preferably a former battalion or brigade S-3 air.”
“Got it,” John said. “We going to be doing shipping from your location?”
“The Graham Islands?” Jason asked, then grimaced. “There’s fish, there’s lobster, there’s land crab, there’s coconuts. But . . . there’s all that at other islands. I just wanted to check the ground conditions. Try to find tropical islands in the same zone but away from here. I’m thinking of either choosing this as my homestead or buying it outright. I’d rather keep it less . . . harvested.”
“Where else?” Tim asked.
“There’s literally thousands of little islets, atolls and islands,” Jason said. “Throw a dart. Just . . . not here, exactly.”
“We’ll leave you your one tropical paradise,” Tim replied. “We need to find an area of concentration, though. John, going to need more transport.”
“I shall endeavor to provide,” John said, cutting the connection.
“We’re going to be upping the price on shrimp and lobster,” Tim said. “I agree with using Storm for marketing and recruitment. We’re also doing some advertising.”
“Despite the fact that we run out faster than we can get it from the planet?” Jason asked. “That doesn’t seem like a wise business strategy.”
“We don’t want people always seeing ‘out of stock,’” Tim admitted. “But Fox is trying to stand back up and their rates are cheap for now.”
“You got money in that?” Jason asked.
“I do,” Tim said. “Problem?”
“Nope,” Jason said, shrugging. “But if we’re going to be advertising when we’re still running out of stock, we need better shipping. Which means we need more efficient insert and extract.”
“You’ve made the point,” Tim said. “I’m on board.”
“Great,” Jason said. “Then I’m going to go catch crabs.”
“Thought you were there to catch lobster?” Tim said.
“Crustaceans, then,” Jason said. “Out here.”
* * *
“What was the name of that cute lady I passed in the market on the way to the first drop?” Jason asked, leaning back and watching the robots work.
“Judy,” Jewel said. “And before you ask, her status updated to ‘in a relationship.’”
“Damn,” Jason said, looking into the blue distance thoughtfully. Then he sighed. “What is the status of the world’s oldest profession?”
“Flourishing,” Jewel said. “As with drugs, there were no laws enacted against it in the proposed state and federal registers. Despite some protestations from social conservatives, President Dewalt has issued no executive orders against it, saying it should be up to the various states when their legislatures convene. So, there’s no rule against it and it’s a way for ladies, and some gentlemen, to make credit. The problem for them is . . . it’s flourishing.”
“With every gal who’s ever taken coin for favorable attention being twenty again . . . ” Jason said.
“The market is rather saturated,” Jewel said. “There are laws against certain ages, mind you. And they are being strictly enforced.”
“Good,” Jason said. “I’m not looking for a twelve-year-old virgin. Any reviews? That can be trusted?”
“Let me repeat the word ‘flourishing,’” Jewel said. “With emphasis. You want me to sort through units? You only started with ten million of those. That’s easy compared to sorting through the ladies of negotiable affection in Pegasus. Also, I’m not really familiar with your tastes in that area.”
Jason thought about that for a moment and blew out his lips.
“I’m not human, Jason,” Jewel said with a humorous tone. “I won’t get jealous or be offended in any way. But let’s make it easy. Hold up your phone as a pad.”
He held it up and an avatar of a female appeared.
“We’ll start with looks,” Jewel said. “There are buttons to the side to choose various looks. Think of it as making a girl in a computer. Then I’ll look to see if there are any that match it. After that we’ll work on personalities and I’ll check for that. Also, are you looking for a girlfriend or simply someone to pay? The girlfriend experience. As a famous actor once said, you don’t pay ladies of the evening for their services, you pay them to leave.”
“Leaving has never been an issue,” Jason said.
“I need a definite answer on that one,” Jewel said. “Limit the options a bit, let me sort and you’ll end up with someone who won’t leave and you won’t want to leave.”
“That’s . . . unlikely,” Jason said. “Certainly the first.”
“You’re not a . . . whatever you chose to call yourself on Earth anymore,” Jewel pointed out. “You’re one of the richest people on the station. That’s something I’d suggest you not mention. But you are. You’re also not bad looking and have access to the ground as well as fresh foods. Do you want the power behind the throne? Do you want someone to just spend a little time with and have some fun then she goes? What do you want here?”
“Lemme play around with the app,” Jason said, poking buttons. “Then I’ll decide.”
“Please be honest,” Jewel said. “Don’t worry about what I might think.”
* * *
“Okay, I’m having a hard time with the face,” Jason admitted.
“Think of me as a police sketch artist,” Jewel said. “What’s the general look?”
She threw up some generic model faces.
“That one,” Jason said, choosing the heart-shaped face. “With that one’s eyes.”
“I won’t be able to guarantee the face,” Jewel said.
“There are no guarantees in life,” Jason said, frowning. “This feels weird. And wrong. Women are people, not something to be built in a computer.”
“You’re looking for the right person,” Jewel said. “If it’s ‘in life’ I’ll lean more on the needs for personality and brains. If it’s for a playmate, I’ll lean on looks. I’m surprised by the look. It’s not much like Monica.”
“Monica was . . . Monica,” Jason said. “I don’t have a preferred look. I have two or three. This is one of them.”
“The pixie,” Jewel said. “Tinkerbell?”
“I also like Amazons,” Jason said. “Storm’s one of my looks. I sort of go for extremes, there.”
“Personality and interests?”
“Still stuck there,” Jason said. “And I have been thinking. Comes down to am I looking for a playmate or looking for love? I never got into the internet dating thing. After my time. It was too weird for me. I didn’t know the rules and was too old to bother learning them. And this is sort of weird as well.”
“When it comes to who they are, let me choose,” Jewel said. “If it’s a playmate, I may not even go for the look unless I can find someone who has the right personality. If it’s a girlfriend, I’ll lean on both. But while there is an enormous dataset of ladies of negotiable affection, there’s a larger one of ladies who are looking for that special someone. And if it’s a girlfriend, I’ll be choosing based on your needs, wants and desires, which are complex.”
“Example?” Jason asked.
“You’re old-fashioned,” Jewel said. “A late boomer raised very conservative. You were bothered that you never had a family. With a chance to start over again, that is a major concern.”
“I’ve never said that,” Jason said.
“You forget I have access to your entire electronic correspondence,” Jewel said. “You reiterated that several times to people who were close. And you haven’t changed. You look at kids. Not in a weird way but with an obvious longing to your AI. Am I wrong?”
“No,” Jason said. “But I’m not sure about having my mind read.”
“You’re smart,” Jewel said. “Nerdy. You need someone who is smart and a touch nerdy as well. That, by the way, goes for girlfriend or playmate.”
“True,” Jason said.
“And in a girlfriend, you also need a playmate,” Jewel said. “Someone to enjoy this and the other things you do. Someone interested in getting to the ground. A complete city girl or one who’s afraid of her own shadow would never be your perfect mate and not even a good short-term companion. Somebody who thinks of the tropics as a resort instead of . . . well, an island filled with crabs and waters teeming with sharks . . . ”
“True,” Jason admitted. “Okay, you’ve got me read like a book. I assume there’s more.”
“You need someone to gently keep you on track,” Jewel said. “Someone besides me to bounce ideas off. Someone you can trust who won’t betray you. You’re beginning to do some fairly large business. You could use someone who is charm trained to help in social settings: a ‘like’ rather than a need. Last, you would like someone in one of your tastes in looks. There are others. Dozens. I’ve been calculating them while observing you right up from the first moment we both were pulled out of stasis. And at the moment you do sort of need a tension reliever.
“That last argues paid playmate but there’s intermediates. Ladies who aren’t the type to take money—but will probably be very receptive to a guy who invites them to a tropical getaway—and even have your general interests and tastes. Outdoorsy but also nerdy. Sci-fi readers. A lady who wants to have a family but also wants to get the hell off the station and see the planet. And if she’s going to raise kids, let it be under blue skies, not metal ceilings.
“Somebody who is tomboyish enough to go hunting for mammoth and lady enough to clean up and be on your arm at receptions and dinner meetings where you’re going to feel like a fish out of water and want someone to keep you from making faux pas. Like Monica in that way and that way only. Unlike Monica because she won’t make digs at you about it. Someone who can get muddy in the morning and in the evening can be comfortable at a formal dinner for the President.”
“That’s . . . asking a lot,” Jason said.
“Five hundred million people on this station,” Jewel said. “Slightly more than half are female. Not really. Not if they’ve expressed to their AI that they are looking for a boyfriend with possibility of husband.”
“You already have someone in mind,” Jason said.
“Multiple,” Jewel said. “Look at the screen.”