Vacation on Union Station (EarthCent Ambassador Book 7) Read online

  A young man with a receding hairline who looked to be about twenty-five years old waited for them on the platform. Tac led the guests directly over and they made their mutual introductions.

  “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you,” Hep said, looking keenly at the couple. “We have a problem that defies our attempts at a solution, and my Verlock mentor suggested fighting fire with fire.”

  “We’re fire?” Woojin guessed.

  “You’re from off-world and so is our problem,” Hep explained. “Have you ever heard of something called the Human Expatriates Election League?”

  “HEEL,” Lynx answered in disgust. “We’ve been stumbling across their tracks all through our honeymoon. When we reported in after leaving Two Mountains, we received a new itinerary rerouting us in your direction. You placed an ad on a mercenary recruitment board looking for temporary police help?”

  “We really don’t know what to do with the young woman in question, though there have been some surprisingly violent suggestions,” Hep continued. “Very un-Verlock-like. She arrived three weeks ago on a tramp trader which departed immediately after she disembarked. We should have known there was a problem right then.”

  “What’s she been doing that has you so upset?” Woojin asked.

  “She’s interfering with our academy,” Hep explained. “She bursts into our lecture halls and makes speeches about free elections and the will of the people. The worst part is that she keeps trying to promote a scheme where we sell each other our votes and become rich. The math doesn’t work at all, it defies logic. She’s already ruined two interactive blackboards by drawing stick figures and lines all over them with indelible markers.”

  “Have you asked her to leave?” Lynx inquired.

  “Approximately a hundred time a day. She just keeps on talking, and most of our scholars have an acquired speech impediment of sorts so they can’t get a word in edgewise. The only thing that slows her down is an argument, and I’m the only adult in the community who can match her pace. I’ve been wasting all of my time chasing her around and debating in hallways so she won’t disrupt the lectures.”

  “And you’d like us to…?”

  “Arrest her. Take her home with you. Sell her to Farlings as a laboratory test subject. Just as long as you get her out of here!”

  “If you’re the official government, I don’t mind filling in as the temporary police force,” Woojin said. “Just deputize me and point me to the lady in question and I’ll take her into custody.”

  “And then?” Lynx demanded.

  “Well, we’ll have to take her with us.”

  “On MY two-man trader? On MY honeymoon?”

  “Ooh, that is kind of rough,” Tac said sympathetically.

  “We have a lifeboat, don’t we?” Woojin asked, in an infuriatingly calm manner.

  “And guess who’s going to be sleeping in it from now on,” Lynx replied acidly.

  “And the lifeboat has an emergency stasis pod,” Woojin added. There was a long pause while Lynx thought it over.

  “Not bad,” she said. “How are we going to get the HEEL into it?”

  “I always start by asking nicely,” the ex-mercenary explained. “Then I outline the alternatives, and if that doesn’t work, the options range from a wrestling match to a tranquilizer dart.”

  “What’s this woman look like?” Lynx asked their hosts.

  “Twenty-something, attractive,” Hep replied.

  “She looks like a fashion model,” Tac said.

  “Call your dad and tell him not to unyoke the oxen,” Lynx instructed the teenager. “We’re going back to my ship for a tranquilizer gun, assuming my husband actually brought such a thing on my honeymoon.”

  “Our honeymoon,” Woojin corrected her with a grin. “I thought I might need it for protection since you’re obviously so crazy about me.”

  Fourteen

  “Come right this way, please. Oh, I am so happy to see you. We haven’t had any new employees in such a long time. Let’s see if I can even remember what to do. Well, first we’ll need to fix you up with some IDs.”

  “Uh, we may have gotten off on the wrong deck,” Kelly said. The plastic features of the bubbly android collapsed in hurt disbelief, making the ambassador hope that it wasn’t a mistake after all. “Banger? Can you check with Libby?”

  “There’s no mistake, Ambassador,” the little Stryx replied. “We’re the new temporary employees starting today,” he added, for the benefit of the reception android.

  “Of course, of course. All of the employees are temps, except me, that is,” the android replied. “You gave me a scare there. I’ve spent weeks getting everything ready. Let’s see, now. Party of seven?”

  Beowulf growled from deep in his chest.

  “I’m sorry, eight. Always room for another employee. Follow me, now. Follow me.”

  The android turned abruptly and hustled off down a long corridor between what looked like tiny square offices, all without doors. Joe tried a quick calculation as to how many cubicles the deck might contain if it ran the whole length of Union Station. After squaring his guess at the radius and multiplying by pi, the number was so large that it made him uncomfortable.

  “Here we are, here we are. One at a time now. Stand in front of the blue curtain and speak your name. Come on now, don’t be shy.”

  Dorothy stepped in front of the blue curtain. She faced the android, which had moved behind a device that was obviously some sort of camera, and said, “Dorothy McAllister.”

  “Perfect. Lovely teeth. I can see you won’t be running up the cost of our dental plan,” the android gushed. There was a sound like a vending machine disgorging a very thin candy bar, and the receptionist handed over a picture of Dorothy encased in heavy plastic, threaded with a silk lanyard for hanging around the neck. Her name was neatly printed under the picture. “Next, please.”

  Mist stepped forward and identified herself, followed by Samuel, Ailia and Banger. Joe went next, and Kelly, who hadn’t been expecting a picture that morning and was trying to do something with her hair, nodded at Beowulf to jump in front of her. The dog decided on the spot that a contraction of his name would save space on the badge for what would no doubt be an impressive job title. He settled on “Wulf,” though somehow the obsolete alien technology interpreted it as “Woof.” Kelly went last, feeling self-conscious.

  “Now we need to assign your jobs. Let’s see if I can remember how to do this,” the android said. “Please, line up there, and those IDs are for wearing, not playing with, young man. Alright, the tallest person in the room is always the leader.” Twin beams of light shot out of the android’s eyes, and Joe’s badge now identified him as “President.”

  “You look like a customer relations manager to me,” the android told Kelly, and in a flash, it was on her ID. Mist and Dorothy found themselves assigned to research and development, Samuel, Ailia and Banger were all identified as quality control testers, and Beowulf was placed in charge of security.

  “Is there anybody else working here?” Kelly asked hesitantly. She didn’t want to hurt the android’s feelings again, but she was a little suspicious of a company where the receptionist doubled as the head of human resources.

  “You’ll be interacting with the other employees as soon as you enter your assigned offices. I’ve prepared a special block so you can be close together because I know how hard it can be to settle into a new job.”

  The android led them out of the photo ID room and down a different corridor, where both Kelly and Joe made it a point to peek into each cubicle they passed. All were immaculately clean and decidedly empty. Beowulf was for once pleased with the lack of strange scents on the deck. It would make security a breeze.

  “Here we are, now. Here we are. You can choose from any of these offices here. Just press your ID against the blank nameplate and it will copy your information and customize all of the equipment interfaces. Once you’ve done that, you’ll find that the arrow on the b
ack of your badge serves as a compass that will always lead you back to your office so you can’t get lost. We had a bit of a problem with that in the early days.”

  “We just go in our cubicles, then?” Joe asked.

  “You start by selecting your office,” the android replied testily. It seemed determined to insist on using the grandiose term for the tiny spaces with fabric walls. “After that, well, you’re the president.”

  Dorothy and Mist held a brief whispered consultation before choosing their side-by-side cubicles. Banger, Samuel and Ailia took three adjacent cubicles across the corridor, and Kelly and Joe claimed two cubicles next to the teenage girls. Beowulf was a little more selective, entering and leaving a number of cubicles before selecting a larger one that included a conference table under which he could nap. It didn’t have a nameplate he could program, but as head of security, he decided to make an exception for himself.

  The bustling android disappeared as soon as the new employees entered their cubicles, and the ceiling lights above all of the surrounding spaces dimmed to what one might expect from emergency lighting. Inside the occupied cubicles, holo-displays lit up, though Beowulf didn’t see his as it was above the roof of his improvised cave.

  “Did you just get a calendar on your display, Kel?” Joe called. His voice sounded a bit deadened by the walls of the cubicle and it occurred to him that there might be an audio suppression field as well. He was about to get up and go to her when he noticed a screen pad on the arm of his office chair with seven icons, each showing the face of one of his “employees”. He tapped his wife’s face softly.

  “Kel?”

  “Hello?” Her voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, rather like Libby sounded in wide-open spaces. “How did you do that, Joe?”

  “There’s a screen with all of your faces on the arm of my chair,” Joe replied.

  “Oh, I see,” Kelly said. “Wait, I only have six. I don’t get to call you?”

  “Well, I am president.” There wasn’t a response because Kelly had discovered how to break the connection. Joe sighed and rose to his feet to go and apologize. He stuck his head into his son’s cubicle across the corridor to see how Samuel was getting along, and saw that the boy’s holo-display was split into four cubes. Three cubes were given over to a conference between the young quality control testers, and the fourth cube seemed to hold the contents of a toy chest.

  “That’s the one I want to test,” Samuel said, touching an improbable-looking weapon that likely shot a stream of water. Joe withdrew and stepped into Kelly’s cubicle.

  “You don’t knock?” she inquired. “I thought we were keeping relations on a professional basis.”

  “Come on, Kel. I was just kidding about pulling rank.”

  “That doesn’t put your face on my armrest.”

  “Well, I should be able to change that. I am president after all.”

  “If you think I’m—what was that?” Kelly asked, breaking off her complaint as something silently flashed by behind Joe’s back.

  The president stuck his head back out into the corridor and saw a delivery bot setting down a package in front of Samuel’s cubicle opening. Ailia was already outside her cubicle picking up a rainbow-colored stuffed animal of some sort, and the delivery bot then proceeded to hand an abacus to Banger, who met him in the corridor.

  “Product delivery for our quality control testers,” Joe said over his shoulder. “I saw Samuel picking out what I think was a water gun, Ailia must have chosen the stuffed animal, and Banger has one of those old-fashioned calculators that use beads.”

  “So it’s serious? They’re going to test the products?” Kelly stuck her head out behind Joe to see if he was making things up, then jerked back just in time to avoid being hit by a stream of water.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to shoot that thing in the corridor,” Joe said in irritation, wiping his face on his sleeve.

  “But it’s my job!” Samuel protested.

  “Don’t make me call security,” Joe warned.

  “Awww.” Samuel let the gun fall to parade rest.

  “Maybe there’s a special room for quality control testing,” Kelly suggested. “I’d ask somebody, but I don’t see how. Where are the other employees our one-android reception committee told us about?” She looked again at the display pad on her armchair, while Joe scanned the cubicle for signs of communications devices.

  “Mr. McAllister? Mrs. McAllister? Is there something I can help you with?”

  An android which bore a conspicuous resemblance to the one who had welcomed them to work appeared at the opening of Kelly’s cubicle.

  “Do you know if there’s a space where the children can play with their new toys?” Kelly inquired.

  The android tilted its head to the side like a puzzled dog.

  “Our quality control team needs some lab space to test products,” Joe said.

  “Oh yes, of course. You can choose any space you think is appropriate, Mr. McAllister. This area of the company is a bit underutilized at present. Is there anything else?”

  “How did you know we needed something?” Kelly asked.

  “I was dispatched by the board of directors,” the android replied, looking a bit embarrassed. “Was there anything else?”

  “That will do it,” Joe said, shaking his head at his wife to discourage further inquiries. Kelly looked at him questioningly, and he mouthed, “Libby.”

  “Why don’t you take the children and see if you can find a good place nearby for them to play, I mean work, and I’ll keep an eye on the girls,” Kelly said. If the company they were employed by was being directly operated by the Stryx, as Joe suggested, it couldn’t hurt to go along with the fun until dinner anyway.

  While Joe took the young quality control testers in search of lab space, Kelly checked up on the teens. They had already mastered the interactive holo-display sufficiently to be hard at work collaborating on a new fashion line, which from the look of the accessories, would be marketed exclusively to princesses. Kelly was about to join in the fun when the android appeared yet again and tapped her on the shoulder.

  “You’re needed in your office, Mrs. McAllister,” the android murmured politely.

  “Oh, I’ll be right there,” Kelly said. The moment she settled into her chair, the holo-display lit up with the face of the Jill-of-all-trades android.

  “There’s been a problem with a large shipment of widgets to an important customer,” the android said. “It appears to have gone missing from the warehouse.”

  “Uh, what are the widgets and who is the customer?” Kelly asked, trying to enter into the spirit of the thing.

  “Don’t you want to call a meeting with the president and security chief?” the android suggested, ignoring her question.

  “Oh, I could do that,” Kelly said. “Wait, I don’t have the president on my call thingy.”

  “Hold on a minute, I’ll put you through to his secretary,” the android replied. The background color on the holo-display changed, but the same android remained in the foreground. “President’s office.”

  “Aren’t you the same…” Kelly’s voice trailed off when she saw the pained expression on the android’s face. “Uh, I’d like to schedule a meeting with the president and the head of security.”

  “The president is out of his office right now, but I can contact Mr. Woof and arrange for a meeting in one hour,” the android replied happily.

  “Could I ask you…” Kelly began, but when she saw the nervous expression on the android’s face, she changed her mind. “Forget it. But is there an official history of the company available? As the customer relations manager, I think that understanding our past would help me, er, relate to our customers.”

  “Excellent idea,” the android said. “The board of directors has approved your request and that information will be made available immediately.”

  Kelly spent the next hour flipping through the virtual pages that described the foundi
ng and early years of “The Company,” which seemed to be its only official designation. It was started by a vaguely humanoid species with orange skin and too many eyes, long before the Drazens or the Hortens had joined the tunnel network. The company was vertically integrated, owning everything from the supply chain to retail outlets, and it seemed to have manufactured and sold just about everything imaginable at one time or another.

  A cheerful android face suddenly replaced the virtual pages on her holo-display. “Time for your meeting,” the president’s secretary chirped. “Just follow the arrow on the back of your ID.”

  Kelly stood up and flipped her ID over on its lanyard, placing it on her palm. The arrow pointed through the cubicle’s wall toward Joe’s office, functioning like a compass rather than a navigation system. Instead of climbing the partition, she stepped out into the corridor and checked quickly to make sure that Dorothy and Mist hadn’t vanished. The girls were busy adding jewels to their line of ball gowns. Then she walked into Joe’s office, intentionally neglecting to knock, but it was empty.

  The ambassador went back into the corridor and tried following the arrow on the back of her ID as closely as possible. It was clearly pointing to a space beyond Joe’s cubicle in the same row, so she continued along until the arrow pointed directly into an opening. Joe and Beowulf were already waiting for her at the table.

  “What are the kids doing?” Kelly asked.

  “Our quality control testers will be in their lab until supper, which will happen as soon as Stanley and Donna arrive with our food,” Joe replied. “Samuel rejected the gun on the principle that it ran out of ammunition, and Ailia concluded that her stuffed animal was insufficiently water-proofed. When I left, they had moved on to testing an alien game that involved colorful floating balls that knock into each other, sort of like billiards without the cues or table. Banger was keeping score on his abacus.”

  “Alright,” Kelly said. “You’re obviously having a good time being the president but now it’s time to deal with business. Do you want the good news first or the bad news?”