This part of her numerous duties was the least glamorous of the lot.
In fact, a less worldly (and majorly stupid) person could mistaken Lt.
Colonel Blackfoot's present job as being "a typical woman's job."
Also being an instructor - a teacher - for some of the more….esoteric
courses offered at the Ethiopian Processing station would not help matters,
either.
However, anyone foolish enough to start to ride the Lt. Colonel about
this would be liable to get a mess. She, like many Military folk from Home,
were not those who lived "a life of quiet desperation." Like many of her
enlisted piers, Blackfoot would sometimes resort to expressing herself
with her fists (all within Military regs….of course)! It wouldn't do for
a fight to break out at any old occurrence…..
That aside, Blackfoot was presently enjoying the "non combative" period
of her tour. Much as she had enjoyed forcing open and scuttling Enemy spaceships,
it was nice just to instead struggle with the ins and outs of "Mass Media"
director (i.e. Head Librarian).
Her job was to keep the backups of every article (book, magazine, et
cetera) "online" on the base's net (even the items with security classifications).
She didn't really have to "consume" any of the items she was in charge
of……but after a while, even the slowest of Liberians found that she or
he had time to themselves. There was no regulations against idle reading
of UNCLASSIFIED materials (idle reading of classified material that one
had no reason to know about was….a military "no-no"). Curiosity had driven
her to actually view some of the older 2D movies, and had struck up a friendship
with the Intel units' "grand old man": Probe. Both she and the AI had a
love of American Science Fiction "B" movies. She had decided, recently,
to branch out into the later part of the 20th century movies….and had run
across a movie called "The Wild Wild West" with Will Smith.
She had seen something that had triggered a warning light with her mind
(hadn't Probe said something about the recent development in firearms on
Terra….something about a jump to 19th century level firearms?).
She frantically hits the "pause" button on the player - freezing Will
Smith's character, James West, in his tracks as he is examining the "impermiable"
that had stopped a bullet from ending his life. She reaches over to a tele-vid,
and begins to try to track down the now retired Colonel.
It takes a half hour of increasingly frustrating effort before she,
using unofficial channels, contacts the com unit that the old AI/golem
now carries about.
Frederigo D'Honaire, speaking via magical mirror…..
"….but in all," the red whiskered manfox smiles a foxy smile. "It's
nice to know that the Regent can Count upon you."
Probe just smiles at the last of the long barrage of puns from the former
Dragon Slayer turned leader of the newest species under the Terran sun.
Sometimes the stream could be dammed by distracting Fred the manfox's attention
to something else, before his vulpine sense of humor can take hold of him.
Sometimes the stream of humor was so mirthful that all Probe could do to
keep from falling over in laughter is disconnect his Avatar's reaction
to laugh (all the while laughing silently to himself). The last pun wasn't
too funny, but it was…..nice).
It was….nice that Fred no longer looked upon him with suspicion.
"I guess…." Count Probe says. "Ah, but I hear that you have been able
to make further progress into the Americas as the Pack Leader than your
fellow Aeuropeans before now? King Natthias had opened up those channels
before the fall of the Phage, but you've made some inroads."
"True enough," the manfox says, ear's twitching at a thought. "Though
I was curious as to just HOW they knew of alcohol and a few other items,
considering that they shouldn't have….."
Probe nodded, remembering that there had been a bit of befuddlement
about how the surviving American Indian nations had barred several trade
items and put up "protective tariffs." Fred hadn't thought that the people
he'd be negotiating with would be ignorant savages, but he hadn't expected
this level of sophistication, either.
"I have an funny feeling that," Probe says. "Think that they might have
been able to look into some of the Other worlds and seen the dealings between
the European people and the American Indian people….."
Fred sighed, nodding his furry head sadly. He'd heard from Probe how
back Home, the Native Americans had been abused and used by less than ethical
traders and politicians. Probe had pointed out, when Fred had prodded,
that the average American Indian of Probe's Home's past had little to no
alcohol tolerance (it had been introduced by Europeans to the Indian populous).
Alcohol dependency was more likely because of this. Another thing was -
in regards to the protective tariffs - was to lessen the native American's
dependence on Aeuropean goods (until native production was brought up from
their current levels to match that of Fred's and the other adventurer's
level).
The manfox didn't really blame the Indians for all this, and was happy
that the limited trade that would be occurring was going to take place.
He was happy that FINALLY, diplomatic ties were being established to these
mysterious lands.
Fred blinks as something under Count Probe's cloak starts to beep insistently.
Probe looks down in surprise, and quickly dismisses himself.
25July1501, 1732 hours Local
Probe closes his eyes, and sighs in annoyance.
I just KNEW that some wit would have to start… the AI/golem mutters
to himself.
"I say again," the female voice says through the radio. "Are you there,
Count Zero? Over."
"Of course I'm here," Probe almost snaps. "What can I do for you, Susan?
I was talking with the Manimal leader about trade relations with the native
Indians….."
"You mean the Native Americans," Susan corrected him automatically,
wincing when she does.
"Considering that just like back Home that there was no Hindu India
in 1492- just Hindu Koosh - AND the fact that Columbus back Home probably
meant "a people blessed under God" when he called them Indians….I mean
Indians." Probe smiled at the memory of tripping up some of the dimensionally
displaced castaways from several late 1960s worlds with those simple facts
(d**n punks thought they knew everything….and that the Military - like
any military organization - was the spawn of Satan himself….).
Probe was a friend, of sorts, with Blackfoot….but he didn't mind needling
her about slip ups like this (she'd done the same with him….also).
-
 "Ah, but you didn't just
page me for old times," Probe says, switching gears (mentally). "What brings
you?"
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