TJ & Morg
Chapter 26

Copyright© 2009 by Green Dragon

The landing site was an ancient golf course, abandoned these many years which had passed back to the Duke's holdings some century and a half ago. The Club House had been renovated and enlarged and was used for meetings of the Unspoken Metamorphosis Club whose origins, according to the legends went back to the time of the Crusades (whatever they were but they were ancient).

"Utter rubbish of course" the twenty seventh Duke assured TJ and Morg "the club was established by me ancestor who was the bastard offspring of the last female of the line and a geck aka genetically engineered controllable killer; except he weren't. Either controllable or a killer, spent all his time collecting insects — the collection is in the Natural History Museum. M' great great whatever ma couldn't stand the things and made him keep them in the wood shed. After that liason, the progeny found they couldn't breed with nowt but 'ther muties so we have a tangled line of descent. The oldest male of the generation inherits — settled by committee now instead of axe (with the hugest grin pointing at the crossed battleaxes on the wall). Only done once but makes a good story don't you think? Alistair, come meet the foreigners."

"We've met, Hadrian. Did a favour for them a year back. How did things work out, TJ?"

"Very well, Alistair." TJ responded "Is Nigel Harvey here? I want to thank him for the Soyns; they turned out very well although we haven't used all of them yet."

"Saw him earlier. He's got his spouse with him — she heard a rumour, pure tripe of course, about a "Tulip Corporation" who create fashion statements. Several of our young blades were at the Army Navy do 'tother night and are full of it. Nigel's oldest is in King's Troop and claims he didn't see his girlfriend all night. She was nattering with some off worlders in things they kept falling out of. Says he wanted a better look but couldn't get near 'em for females. Strange, that."

"Afraid its true, my friend." TJ explained. "We started the idea to give us cover for our gallivanting about the galaxy — buying long hair wool up here. Morg is the true expert in creating and I'm unashamedly using him as the cover. This couple of days is to introduce him to top society so that when we leave the Navy, the rationale for travel and communications is already in place."

"How old did you say you were TJ" demanded Hadrian "never mind; it's the breeding, aint it. We heard you're Albertson on your mother's side and seeing you, you've got to be Strathcourt-Gordon. Some of both kin here. Meet 'em later. Let's get the discussion going. Main Hall."

"Thank you for coming. I am TJ Hobson and my friend is George Windsor aka Morg.

There is a tale about both of us but that's for later. Some geography.

The Mountserrat star system is the focus of three wormholes which enable instantaneous travel across the Orion Perseus Gap to Amiranti, to Raffles, and to Maureen's Star, cutting out six weeks of travel.

Some history.

About a third way into Perseus Arm is the Star System of Harbouria which is a dictatorship built about a large mendicant population and over the past century or so, to stay in power, the regime has been swallowing up other star systems and stripping them to sustain the home system. Most of the defeated systems have not yielded the golden panacea wanted. And the Harbourians keep going and after nearly two centuries of conquest elsewhere their eyes have locked onto Mountserrat — finally.

We are natives of Mountserrat and that is our interest declared. Depite our natural bias as Mountserrians, we are aware we are no match for the might of Harbouria and its putative allies.

We have some friends, Bhute, Renmark and several smaller systems and together will make it a long bitter struggle. The Republic of Harbourian Navy is well equipped and led; their lower decks are not as effective as ours and our technology is better but we start a long way behind them in ships of the line as we only began our build up seven years ago.

With the exception of Bhute, the Allies are all monarchies, constitutional monarchies with governments elected through universal sufferage. We are already seeing publicity being spread around that we are the baddies because we are monarchies and the good guys are the republicans. It is exactly the other way around and part of my effort will be to enlist your support to restrict sales of technology to Harbouria.

The other part of my effort is to establish a network of decsendents of genetically altered per..."

"Muties, mon. A spade is a shovel and we've all heard it before" a bearded block of a man called.

" ... descendents of muties who are spread across the southern part of the galaxy to gather information which specifically will be of benefit to the Allies and in general to the mutie populations..."

"And why should we help your lot and not the others, mon?"

TJ looked carefully at the questioner,

"Because Harbouria has on every planet conquered, applied the proscriptions and with only one exception there are no muties left in the Harbourian hegemony. The exception exists only because the whole population is mutant — it's a heavy world planet. The Winsors of Mountserrat, the families of Bhute, the Protector and most of the population of Renmark, the Caliph of..."

"Och mon, I geh the message."

"Thank you. During our travels..."

TJ recounted in broad terms, the progress to date of his efforts.

At the completion of his discourse, there were a few desoltury questions and the bearded block declared

"Too many ninnies here to get a decision — no better than norms. Hadrian, Alistair, Neville ... where's Isles — up rutting wi' me daughter, I'll wager; Clanagh get the son; Cammisot, you'll stand for Coneuro? Good. Palin-Kennedy for Noramcon and Canal? Good; who's for Pac? Winterton? Aye, thank you. En-liu? Good. Library in ten minutes, please."

"And do you claim to represent Scotchlan, you old goat" shouted a voice.

"Gordon-argyll and the Isles speak for Scotchlan, McKinnon and doubt ye not on that" said a voice from the bowels of the earth. TJ turned and beheld a man mountain — Morg and he were regarded as big men physically but Isles dwarfed them.

"Good day to you, Hobson. Pleased to meet. M' da-in-law formed a committee, did he? Strange that. Where Argyll?"

"Library as soon as you peel m' daughter off."

There was a much tighter and intense discussion in committee and the Mountserrians were appraised that muties on Old Earth never felt fully accepted despite the centuries' history. The aphorism bruited about "Blessed are the muties for they make wonderful scapegoats" still ran deep through governments and society.

TJ offered an open mesh com network where all information would be made available to others so that a straw here and there might complete a puzzle. He told them of the idea of a polar com set on certain coordinates as their link to the galaxy.

Isles and Cammisot screwed up their eyes and then exchanged glances before Enrico Cammisot asked

"Langrangian point?"

"Winsor Principal King at arms have anything to do with it?" asked Isles.

"Not to his knowledge" TJ skirted around the question which got him several hard stares.

A discussion regarding the safety(?) of muties on Old Earth followed with loose agreement on contacts and Morg pointing out that as Sol went the galaxy followed even though the planetary percentage of muties was greater off Old earth. (In absolute terms the numbers were miniscule.)

"What's the story on the tender ship?" En-liu blandly asked, and in reply to TJ's eyebrow elevation, "the description tallies with a vessel I once had an interest in." TJ's eyebrows were joined by a furrowed brow, "It was brought to my notice that two vessels were being built in secret and great care was being taken to have no identification on anything — extraordinary care. Which made my antenna twitch. One has gone missing after both were dispatched and I have no idea why or where."

"A straw for you..." and TJ recounted the details from encounter to condemnation as a prize.

"Her mission?"

TJ carefully considered this,

"At the point we took her, she had the approaches of every sizeable orbital in the southeast and south of the galaxy. She hadn't covered the south west even though she was in Gorgipest space. The crew had been engaged in piracy over the covered area to the extent that the loot was valued at condemnation at seven million credits. Where was she built and by whom?"

"Built in the private yards of Pacsouth — my information is Chencon through intermediaries. If Chencon sent her, the piracy was a side benefit the crew initiated. The Chencons are a strange lot morally; think nothing of destroying a people who revolt but are dead set against piracy. Your next question is that I don't know why they are interested in the galactic south or any other space."

"Don't be so confounded naive, En-liu, the bloody place is stacked ten high with bodies. They've no space to even grow food on soil anymore" Neville exploded.

"I said I didn't know and by that I've no intelligence to support any proposition. The basis for your guess is fact but it is not a conclusion I accept because there is just no evidence."

Gordon-Argyll brought the meet back to the table,

"Mutual self protection society; the idea makes sense. War in the Orion Arm causes tension in the Arm and that twitches governments here which could be bad for us as the stupid sods start looking over their shoulder instead of outwards at the risk. Coneuro is selling technology to Harbouria at last report — sucking up. Noramcon and Canal are looking at the galactic southwest to plunder..."

"The bureaucrats prefer to call it expansion of trade but that is a nonsense" agreed Palin-Kennedy "its Cortez all over again except those people out there are mostly derived from the Noramcon; and our lot have a spectacularly bad record as keepers of treaties especially where money is involved. I've noticed increased contacts with the Chens. Division of interests in the galaxy? En-liu?"

"No evidence but it is noted that Chencon supports Noramcon in the Senate of late. A small straw as yet. Chencon and Noramcon have been mutually suspicious for the past centuries and you could wonder why the change of heart."

"Chencon doesn't have a foothold in the galactic south" TJ noted "the Amirantes are oriental in origins but have a deep loathing of the Chinese descendents as opposed to their attitude to the Rusiberians."

"Chencon doesn't have a foothold anywhere in space." En-liu said. "When the rush to depart earth started, the old Chinese Communist Party weren't having it as they needed their population to project power; now of course they are paying the price for that short-sighted decision — overpopulation and without the factory produced kack they call food, there would be mass starvations."

"Chencon builds two small spaceships, sends them on an extended reconnaissance at a time when overpopulation and mass starvations are hovering?" Isle rumbled, "they are planning an exodus until proven otherwise."

"Prudence would agree," Winterton agreed "but the Chens are big on justifications however implausible; and when they are in this mood, it behoves the rest of Old Earth to be vigilant as the blighters are quick to take advantage of any opportunity."

"Outright war will supply every pretext the Chens could desire to act but the Harbourian system was part of the coverage by "Tangerine" TJ proffered.

"Tangerine?" queried Isles.

"Well I had to call her something when we brought her into Gorgipest and I like tangerine" TJ said defensively.

"You have no idea how much time was spent assessing the significance of that name for the tender" En-liu chortled. "It is agreed then that a loose framework be established for the gathering and sharing of straws as so succinctly described by our off world friend. Events have a habit of staggering about before they take off and events in the galaxy do have ramifications here. Argyll, you'll be the point man for the offworld coms? Thank you. Gentlemen?" Let's enjoy the repast outside."

The repast was prepared by many willing hands and excellent. The wines were from the border region where they were growing again. The weather patterns on this planet seemed to go through a period of warming every millennium and the third millennium appeared to have a slightly shorter cool cycle than previous — blamed on the 'mutie wars' even though they had occurred four centuries previously.

Morg was regaling TJ with accounts of his effort at preparing the Highland mutton which he found very tasty as they stood slightly to one side of the throng around the grill. The younger ones were holding a socalled football game which extended over the whole grounds and appeared to consist of the person carrying the stuffed sheep stomach attempting to out run everyone else and just before capture to throw it to a 'friend'. If caught in possession, the holder disappeared under a screaming horde whose sole task appeared to be to dismember the holder. There appeared to be no rules and there certainly was no 'referee'. If the holder had no friend to pass to, he/she could kick the guts away and continue haring after it.

"Fascinating example of war training" En-liu observed as he came to stand beside the Mountserrians "A question I did not want to ask before. If I should use the polar com facility can I be assured that such a message will be received in a timely fashion and be held close?"

Morg and TJ exchanged looks and then turned their gaze upon the Chencon diplomat,

"Timely, aye" Morg uttered "but we have an open com mesh network with all on the net receiving the message."

"You would have to trust your recipients" En-liu observed.

"Yes; but we have only exposed the com net to fellow descendents."

"How nicely expressed. Is there another net incorporated within the one I postulate."

"You have a specific interest in secrecy, even within our frame work?"

"I have a great interest in secrecy as my government dislikes muties and would destroy my clan in an instant if it suspected."

TJ took up the discussion,

"We have established a network for our government and the Navy is only using it sparingly. The Navy has of course an interest in a wide coverage that is timely. But yes there is another independent net and that is held to muties. It is a mutual facility."

"We appear to be speaking well in circles and I thank you for the answers I did not get."

He nodded courteously and wandered off.

"Fergus McKinnon. My ancesters were the last of the muties developed before sense prevailed and the bans enforced. I don't object to Jock Gordon speaking for the clans; I just love niggling the old goat. But mind you, there have been occasions, not many, where he has been wrong and that rock slab he's got for a son in law has had to pull him out."

"Isles is certainly on the mountainous size." Morg remarked.

"Aye, and we never could get to breed with his clan and he needles us for that."

 
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