and
damages from the years we were all quarantined, that credit seems endless now,
but we’ve been buying ships to make up for the losses against the Dark Ship
People and, to be honest, a lot of the endless credit is by good will. The Diet
could vote to put a definite cap on it at any moment. especially if the Dark Ships are really back.
We need a bank to handle our own assets.”
“We can earn our own way even
now, Park,” Iris pointed out. “The shipyards at Questo are back in full
production. Currently, they’re working on Ronnie’s new fighters and are tooling
up for the new carrier, but because we bought ships we almost have more ships
than we do qualified captains. If we don’t start selling them off-world we’ll
have to cut back on production.”
“I had several buyers sniffing
around about buying our ships,” Park admitted. “Sure, let’s go into the ship
business too. Seems to me that we’re going to need all the money we can get
once this new Council realizes they cannot fund their government out of
pocket.”
Iris started laughing
uncontrollably and was soon followed by Marisea. Cousin looked up to see what
the noise was about and Park just looked puzzled. “Oh, Park!” Iris gasped
finally. “That was hilarious. On the one hand you want total autonomy from the
new government, but on the other you’re finding ways to keep it going.”
“Ironic, if not really funny,”
Park admitted sheepishly, “but if it fails the Exploration Corps will be paying
the bills anyway. And governments never make money, they only tax and spend
it.”
“And when they default on the
loans as you obviously expect?” Iris prompted.
“I guess we’ll have them by the
bills,” Park chuckled. “No, I won’t really stick it to them. I have to live
here too, you know, but at least we’ll have established the Explorers as a
distinct entity.”
Eight
Park was sitting in his office
two days later when his torc started chiming. In all the years since waking up
in the middle of Pangaea Proxima, Park had kept his office inside the old
Project Van Winkle base about halfway down from the top of the hill to Veronica
Sheetz’s laboratory. Naturally, it had no windows, but as he never spent more
than an hour or two inside the actual office at a time and rarely visited more
than two or three times a week, that had never bothered him. As he reached to
open the connection, however, he did wonder why he had never noticed the
calendar on the wall was two hundred and fifty million years out of date.
“Holman,” he answered the call.
“Park,” the voice of Karen Mizumi
told him urgently even as her image began to materialize in front of him. “We
have a problem.”
“Alright,” Park nodded. “Tell
me.”
“You remember the other day when
I told you about the two teams we had down in Australis?” she asked.
“Doing a preliminary survey of
the continent,” Park recalled. “We mostly discussed the other teams who were in
various parts of Pangaea proper. What’s happened?”
“They haven’t checked in in three
days,” Mizumi replied.
“They have tracking transponders
don’t they?” Park demanded.
“They do, but there’s no
satellite coverage over Australis,” she replied, “or at least not frequent
enough to do us any good.”
“Meet me here in my office
soonest,” Park told her. “Bring in all the team leaders currently in town.”
“Everyone but Harry Lovell’s team
is in town,” Mizumi pointed out.
“That will make it a tight fit,
but there’s a conference room down the hall. How soon can you all get here?”
Park asked.
“About half an hour,” Mizumi replied
and broke the connection.
“Park, we have a problem,”
Marisea panted as she hop-stepped rapidly through his doorway.
“We sure do,” Park replied. “Why
is my calendar so far out of date?”
“Huh?” Marisea replied. “I just
assumed you left it up because you like the picture. Didn’t you say it was
someplace