asserted.
"You know, speaking of underlings doing the unexpected, the bodyguard I forced on Miss Lewis decided to accompany her back to Home."
"You mean he agreed to emigrate?" he asked genuinely surprised. "Who did you send her? If you'd sent one of my active duty men, scheduled to your own guard roster, I'd have known about it."
"She insisted on a single guard and wanted somebody older and asked for an expert shooter, somebody really good. So I sent her Master Sergeant Tindal, Gunny they called him."
"You sent somebody to her who knows every detail of your personal security? Who trained my men and knows their strengths and weaknesses and helped write the very procedures and manuals they use?" he was clearly outraged.
"Why so upset Mel? Didn't we just conclude they moved Heaven and Earth to keep me from being assassinated? She'll hardly turn about and use him against me, right?"
"Of course not, but as you said your polls are looking poorly. In two years it may be my unpleasant duty to guard one of those Home hating politicians. What if she and the Master Sergeant aren't as fond of the people's choice then, as they are you now?"
"Oh."
"I do believe I shall resign if you fail to win the election."
"Mel, the opposition is talking criminal sanctions against my whole administration if they win. You may need to worry about running for your life instead of resignation letters."
Chapter 16
"It isn't much volume, can't you fit another ten kilos on the manifest?" Jeff asked.
"I'm not going to play this game," Ross told him, "it kills you. If you add ten kilograms, that becomes the new maximum gross lift weight. Then in a couple weeks you'll want to add another couple kilograms. They never ask you to lift ten kilos lighter. It nibbles away at your margin for error, until one day you have what should be a minor problem and find yourself fifty meters off the landing pad and out of juice."
"OK, what can we strip off the ship that is ten kilos and unimportant? I'm riding this thing too and want to live just as bad as you."
" You designed it. Are you telling me you left ten kilos of dead weight on her somewhere, that doesn't matter? When we repaired the Happy after it was shot up you redid all the braces and mounts to pull higher G. Run it like that to take advantage of the higher efficiency."
"I don't want to let anybody know we can do over nine G, unless we need to do so. Let's keep that little secret in reserve. How about if we fly with a half load of missiles? We seem to be in a lull action wise."
"How about if you ride with no p-suit?" Ross counter offered. "Since things are so peaceful you won't miss it."
"I won't change the gross weight," Jeff agreed. "We have a big load-out of fresh food. I'll substitute some freeze dried this trip. We're running a surplus of water anyway."
"What is so important you'll eat dried stuff to get it to the moon?"
"As pilot you have to know the manifest, but this is confidential. We have a client who is depositing metal with our bank and I'm reminting it. We want to spread it out for security. Some will go to other stations and some will be buried in the Moon. This load is four hundred new gold Solars. Twenty-five gram coins. It has to go next load because of client expectations. We just started doing business and it would look bad if we couldn't do what we promised."
"OK, give me a five percent hazard bonus, or you eat the dried crap."
"No problem. I like the teriyaki chicken and the shrimp Alfredo."
"Wait a minute. That's ten kilos of coins . What were you going to do? Stuff them in your pockets?"
"Oh and a foam board box with plastic coin tubes. They are really light," he asserted, caught out.
"A magic box and tubes that don't mass anything?" Ross asked, grinding his teeth. "If it says ten kilos on the manifest, short the packaging mass, that is falsifying it."
"I'll make sure we're under weight if I have to fast," Jeff promised, seeing anything over zero was a lost cause to
"You know, speaking of underlings doing the unexpected, the bodyguard I forced on Miss Lewis decided to accompany her back to Home."
"You mean he agreed to emigrate?" he asked genuinely surprised. "Who did you send her? If you'd sent one of my active duty men, scheduled to your own guard roster, I'd have known about it."
"She insisted on a single guard and wanted somebody older and asked for an expert shooter, somebody really good. So I sent her Master Sergeant Tindal, Gunny they called him."
"You sent somebody to her who knows every detail of your personal security? Who trained my men and knows their strengths and weaknesses and helped write the very procedures and manuals they use?" he was clearly outraged.
"Why so upset Mel? Didn't we just conclude they moved Heaven and Earth to keep me from being assassinated? She'll hardly turn about and use him against me, right?"
"Of course not, but as you said your polls are looking poorly. In two years it may be my unpleasant duty to guard one of those Home hating politicians. What if she and the Master Sergeant aren't as fond of the people's choice then, as they are you now?"
"Oh."
"I do believe I shall resign if you fail to win the election."
"Mel, the opposition is talking criminal sanctions against my whole administration if they win. You may need to worry about running for your life instead of resignation letters."
Chapter 16
"It isn't much volume, can't you fit another ten kilos on the manifest?" Jeff asked.
"I'm not going to play this game," Ross told him, "it kills you. If you add ten kilograms, that becomes the new maximum gross lift weight. Then in a couple weeks you'll want to add another couple kilograms. They never ask you to lift ten kilos lighter. It nibbles away at your margin for error, until one day you have what should be a minor problem and find yourself fifty meters off the landing pad and out of juice."
"OK, what can we strip off the ship that is ten kilos and unimportant? I'm riding this thing too and want to live just as bad as you."
" You designed it. Are you telling me you left ten kilos of dead weight on her somewhere, that doesn't matter? When we repaired the Happy after it was shot up you redid all the braces and mounts to pull higher G. Run it like that to take advantage of the higher efficiency."
"I don't want to let anybody know we can do over nine G, unless we need to do so. Let's keep that little secret in reserve. How about if we fly with a half load of missiles? We seem to be in a lull action wise."
"How about if you ride with no p-suit?" Ross counter offered. "Since things are so peaceful you won't miss it."
"I won't change the gross weight," Jeff agreed. "We have a big load-out of fresh food. I'll substitute some freeze dried this trip. We're running a surplus of water anyway."
"What is so important you'll eat dried stuff to get it to the moon?"
"As pilot you have to know the manifest, but this is confidential. We have a client who is depositing metal with our bank and I'm reminting it. We want to spread it out for security. Some will go to other stations and some will be buried in the Moon. This load is four hundred new gold Solars. Twenty-five gram coins. It has to go next load because of client expectations. We just started doing business and it would look bad if we couldn't do what we promised."
"OK, give me a five percent hazard bonus, or you eat the dried crap."
"No problem. I like the teriyaki chicken and the shrimp Alfredo."
"Wait a minute. That's ten kilos of coins . What were you going to do? Stuff them in your pockets?"
"Oh and a foam board box with plastic coin tubes. They are really light," he asserted, caught out.
"A magic box and tubes that don't mass anything?" Ross asked, grinding his teeth. "If it says ten kilos on the manifest, short the packaging mass, that is falsifying it."
"I'll make sure we're under weight if I have to fast," Jeff promised, seeing anything over zero was a lost cause to
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