Part 21 (1/2)
”I'm sure you'll think of a lot,” San Paulo said. ”If you don't mind, I'd like to get some sleep. Good night, Vicky.”
”We'll talk more tomorrow. They stole my property.”
The screen went blank. Chief Barber rushed into Ray's office. ”Our locals don't own the land they rented us!”
”Looks that way,” Ray said.
”d.a.m.n, never thought to check. Can't believe I made that basic a goof.”
”When everyone in town says they own it, you a.s.sume they do. I think we just hit another little local secret.” Ray tapped his commlink. ”Jeff.”
”Yessir,” came so fast the young man must have been waiting.
”Do the farmers and the city folks have a tiny disagreement about how you buy or otherwise acquire farmland?”
”Oh, d.a.m.n, is that what Vicky's up to?”
”Fill me in fast. I'm expecting another call.”
”About sixty years back, the Sterlings pushed through a law making all land the property of the central circle in Refuge. Income from the sale of the land was supposed to pay for infrastructure improvements, dams, power generation, ca.n.a.ls. There was major refusal in the farmlands. They called it local nullification. For several months the farms refused to sell food. City folk finally backed off.”
”So the law was repealed.”
”Not exactly. That would be too embarra.s.sing. Everyone just agreed to ignore it.”
”Interesting approach to law you have around here. So because Vicky bought the land we're on, we have to face one of her judges to decide who owns it?”
”Depends on whether she bought it or had Richland buy it.”
”Sir”-a yeoman stuck his head in Ray's office-”an urgent call from Ms. San Paulo.”
”Put her through. Jeff, I want you at the HQ as soon as you land.” Ray hit his commlink, then hit it again. ”Good morning, Ms. San Paulo. Didn't expect to hear from you,” he said, grinning. ”Rose is doing well. Her headaches seem to be gone.”
”Good, but, ah, Mr. Amba.s.sador, you have made a very bad enemy in Vicky Sterling. Did you steal her archives tonight?”
”We don't have any of her archives here at the base,” Ray evaded carefully.
”Good, because you're about to get a visit from one of her bailiffs.” Quickly Hen filled Ray in on the call he'd watched.
”Who does own the land our local village farms?” Ray asked.
Hen shrugged and looked away. ”They should,” she evaded. ”No one but Vicky would question that they do, but she's a law unto herself at times. I checked the public land records right after she called. This morning Richland purchased the Hazel Dell towns.h.i.+p-for expansion, they said-and has already zoned it for residential multifamily dwellings. Seems like a long commute to work.”
”So we either go along with her, or we're lawbreakers. d.a.m.ned if we do, and d.a.m.ned if we don't.”
”Yes.”
”Do you know a lawyer we can talk to about this?”
”A law-yer?” Hen struggled with the word.
”Yes, someone who specializes in arguing the law.”
”I don't think we have any.”
”You don't.” Ray felt suddenly very tired.
”If you and someone else have a legal problem, you take it to an elected judge and you argue it yourself.”
”And if someone kills you?”
”Your family and security group argue against the killer.”
Ray rubbed his temples. He was getting a headache, and the Teacher had nothing to do with this one. ”You have laws, but no one pays any attention to them, and no one specializes in helping you figure out where you stand under them,” he said, praying she'd correct him.
”I guess that's how it must look to you. We just haven't had much need for them.”
”Sixty years ago the fanners quit delivering food because of this law.” Barber's sarcasm was heavy as the night.
”But it was all straightened out.”
”Is there anyone who takes an interest in these laws that everyone ignores?” Ignored until a few days ago.
”No one, really. Any old-timer can tell you about the people's history.”
”Guess I'd better find one.” Ray was about to hang up when Barber waved his hand. ”You got something, Chief?”
”We've started giving out our credit cards,” he said as if b.u.t.terflies might melt in his mouth. ”The system is working nicely. Mary would hate to have someone hurt by what we're doing. I was wondering this afternoon if we shouldn't get some formal recognition of our system. Is there any chance you might have the circle formally recognize the credit cards' accounting system as legal tender, backed up by copper?”
”You're backing it with copper?” Hen's eyes were wide open, no matter what time it was.
”Yes. It's not quite the same as holding a copper coin, but we intend to make it just as reliable.”
”Well, yes. When could you have me your draft language, and how soon do you want it done?”
”I worked up some already, Ms. San Paulo, and it would be nice if the circle could do this tomorrow morning.”
”Before noon,” Hen said, only half swallowing a smile. ”Before Vicky's visitor arrives.”
”The sooner we protect these fine people, the better,” he said with the straightest face Ray had ever seen on a Ches.h.i.+re cat, canary in hand. The chief sent the file; Hen rung off.
Ray turned to Barber. ”What did we just do?”
”You said we needed a real financial system for this place. We just took a small step toward it.”
”Right.” Ray tried to snarl, but too much smile was showing. ”Talk to me, you old s.p.a.cer.”