INSTINCT (part 3)
Chapter 21 of Senses
Hello, Mats here.
In the middle of week three after the "abduction" I had returned to base. I had found number four, M62-181-271shg, and was reporting it. I was also picking up construction materials, saying I was going to build a vacation home on it. Of course what I was really doing was getting the stuff for Deb and 'drink.
The Foundation suggested instead that I upgrade to a larger ship, so that I could simply land it and detach the living space from the flying module itself. Problem is, the next largest ship is a fighter, meant for deep space for four inhabitants. I declined, not wanting a war ship.
Fine. I went to catch the news while my ship was loaded up. There is lots of news out there in the galaxy, but one controversy focused me. Terraforming had begun on a world already established as a class M. There had been an uproar once this had been found out by the scientific community, and I joined in their rage.
Then I reconsidered taking that ship.
Janis was transferred over and I was off within 24 hours, trying to radio Duncan Idaho.
At least when Mats showed up I ('drink) could see why we got such weird rain.
We packed up and blasted off in about three hours. On our way up the atmosphere, Mats turned to me. "Can you tune in to Janis like I can?" he asked.
"I think so," I said.
"Well try. This planet is surrounded by drone ships, and we may have a fight on our way out. I know I was spotted coming down. I need to fly this puppy. You fire the guns."
"Excuse me?" I said.
"Look, these are drones. No sentient beings aboard, but they'll try to kill us. This place is quarantined! You fire the guns."
Fine. "Janis?" I said.
"Yes, 'drink?" Janis replied. Gods, what a voice.
I reached our with my mind to the ship's computer and made contact. Janis, do you understand the concept of a video game?
1
Good, good. Set up this battle in my mind like a Galaga game, would you please? Minus the capture option.
1
Thank you, Janis.
I said before that I'm good at that game.
Once the fight was over and we were away from the area I disconnected from Janis and I asked Mats where we were going.
"Home," Mats said.
"Earth?" I asked. "How wise is that?"
"Very wise, as it turns out. We're going to bring in some outside help."
"Who?"
"Debbie's brother. We talked about him while you were blazing away at the drones. He'll be a help, I'm sure of it."
Fine. "Sorry you're no longer incognito," I said.
"Don't be," Mats replied. "I still am. Friend of mine taught me how to change the registration on the ship. Cost me my last copy of The Dead's 1989 New Year's show, but I figure it was worth it."
I laughed. "Mats Gibraltar, the stealth bomber."
Mats cracked a smile. "Dude, whatever works."
Hello. Mats here.
Paul Cynic. Debbie's brother is Paul Cynic.
For those of you who have been unwashed heathen for the past decade, Paul Cynic is one of the most successful entertainment attorney/managers in the business. He is responsible for the careers of both Jim and A.J. Christopher, the bands Blue Shift and Companion, and he organized the World Aid concerts in New York, Los Angeles, London, and Moscow in 1993.
Hey, remember Phil Collins hopping into airplanes so he could play all four shows?
Paul Cynic is classified as an eccentric. He owns a few acres of land in Malibu, including a private and secure helicopter pad, a swimming pool filled with fish as well as one for swimming, and the world's largest library of comic books.
Paul Cynic is also sharper than a serpent's tooth. He is an aggressive businessman who goes for the jugular on behalf of his clients. He is also an aggressive lawyer, who gets mad when he loses. He has a legendary temper, and is reported to love it.
I wanted to recruit this man. If there was a legal way out of this, Paul Cynic would find it. That was what was going through my mind.
Besides, I wanted Jim Christopher's autograph.
We took a roundabout way home, stopping first at Mats' Place and getting a close up look at the Horsehead Nebula. By the time we got to Earth Debbie was five months pregnant and I ('drink) was beginning to realize how much I missed basketball, hot-tubbing, and junk food.
And Earth.
We listened to some newscasts as we approached Earth; the Clippers had won their first championship and I had missed it! The Grateful Dead did their annual Ventura show and Jimmie Vaughn showed up and Mats missed it!
We were all homesick and we began to realize it.
"Well," Mats said after a bit more news, "Let's land and get this problem fixed."
We hovered over the Earth while fixing in on a certain plot of land in California, and once we found it we landed quickly, on Paul cynic's private helicopter pad. Nice pad, that. It can't even be seen from the closest neighbor's place.
Of course when we landed we kicked up a lot of dust, so someone had to be aware of us. More than likely only Debbie's brother saw us, because a helicopter kicks up as much dust. We know Paul saw us as he was there as we opened up the ship's ramp and exited the ship.
I got out first, as our protection. My confidence in my skills was growing rapidly. There he was, Paul Cynic, standing alone with his hands clasped behind his back, at parade rest. "Hello, Mr. Cynic," I said.
"Ah, you are an Earthling," he replied. "Call me Paul. Any others aboard?"
"Two," I responded. I held up my hand to give the high sign and Mats and Debbie came down the embarkment.
Paul raised an eyebrow when he saw Debbie. "Hello Deborah," he said.
"Paul," Debbie replied.
Paul shook his head, then began to chuckle. "I see you made it off planet," he said. "I always thought you would."
"You're not surprised?" Mats asked.
"Considering the people I work with, nothing surprises me any more," Paul responded. "I could tell you stories that would make your ears spin."
Ears?
"You're pregnant," Paul said, looking at his sister. "Is the father human?"
Debbie smiled. "Yes," she said. She pointed to me. "Paul, meet 'drink Davis, my husband."
Paul raised the other eyebrow, looking at me. "Husband," he said, mulling it over. "Okay, I see that I've got some catching up to do. Your name is 'drink? You don't look like a drink."
"You don't look like a Cynic," I replied.
"Get your eyes checked son, yes I do." He turned to Mats. "And you are?"
"A fan," Mats said, "but you can call me Mats. I'm the pilot of this ship."
Paul's eyes lit up. "Well," he said, "as one pilot to another I greet you. Any other crew?"
"Only my computer, Janis."
Paul looked at the ship with a sense of longing. "Nice," he said. Then he looked down to Debbie. "Why are you here? You never make social calls."
I started to speak for her but it was Mats who got in the first word. "We need a lawyer."
Paul folded his arms. "This is a story I want to hear. Come inside."
"Shouldn't we cover the ship?"
"Don't worry," Paul said. "Even if the neighbors could see it they'd just write it off as one of my weird indulgences. Come on inside."
Hello, Mats here.
First things first. I didn't get Jim Christopher's autograph. Paul explained to me that he hires people to do the autographs for him, as Jim likes his privacy too much to worry about such things. Besides, after the San Francisco incident of a few years back, he stopped doing them. Also besides, with the number of albums he puts out, who has time for autographs?
Sorry. I'll let 'drink continue.
As I ('drink) discussed the dilemma with Paul, he began rubbing his hands together, anticipating the challenge.
"What do you know about their legal system?" he asked me.
"Not much," I admitted. "Some rules but nothing else."
"All right," Paul said, "first thing we need is a complete rundown of the laws. Can you get them?"
Mats shook his head. "Not without tipping my hand. We've probably got some of them here in Debbie's files, but I doubt it's all of it. Anyway, I'd like to remain incognito if at all possible."
"It may not be," Paul said. "We also need a breakdown on the legal history of the system."
"Why?"
"You guys don't know much about law, do you?" Paul replied. "Law, in reality, is a small set of rules and an impressive amount of precedence. Most judges make their decisions based upon the presentation by each legal team of previous decisions. Precedence must mean something to your Foundation. Considering it's scope it must have been around for a while."
"Fair enough," I said, "but how do we get the info you need? And what do we do with it once we get it?"
"Part two is my problem. I'll get my legal staff on it. I'm strange enough to get away with it. As for part one, we need to get to the Foundation base and get them. That rules out Deborah and you. Mats, you have to go because you're the pilot, but we should at least try not to tip your hand. Yes, I did listen. You need a hacker to get into the computer library."
"You know one?" Mats asked.
"Yeah, a good one. Hacked his way into the pentagon once but that's another story. I think we can use him. His name's Scott David. He runs road shows for bands these days, but he's also a technical wiz. Mind if I call him in?"
I sighed. "Not at this point," I said. "Can he be trusted to keep it under his hat?"
"If he couldn't," Paul answered, "I wouldn't have brought him up."
"Place the call," I said.
I just played the transcript back, and I've noticed
something. Our speech patterns are getting as quick as a Woody Allen film.
We're going to take a break.