The Ride. Tom Ph.D. Anderson

The Ride - Tom Ph.D. Anderson


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developed that was so realistic, so true to life, that comparing it with any other way of recording reality was like comparing an ancient black and white photograph with a Zarstron 3 D image. That is to say there was no comparison at all. The only problem was that there was no way of altering these recordings to appear to be anything other than what they really were. You couldn't add or remove information or even stop and restart the recording without it being painfully obvious. Recordings became accepted as accurate depictions of real events because there was no way to fake them.

      CHAPTER 2

      AND THE HOUSE WINE

      ◊The Falcus government deposited the money in my account on the planet Market. By any standards I was now a wealthy man. I almost certainly had more money than my Uncle and if I didn’t I was very close. On the transport back to Nimbus I couldn’t stop looking at the readout of my account on Market. I would never have to work again.

      After arriving at the Nimbus mine I stopped in to see the Mine Manager. He congratulated me and asked when I would be ready to resume my job as an atmosphere technician. We both had a good laugh and he congratulated me again. I cleaned out my bunk and bought passage on a star transport that would eventually get me back to the planet Udell.

      As I had several hours to kill before departure, I went to the lounge bar to get a bottle of wine, the better to sit and consider the possibilities. The place was empty. Everyone was working double shifts to make up the production lost to the croc infestation.

      The bar was out of my favorite wine. I had finished the last bottles they had in stock and they weren’t going to be buying any more. The wine was pricey and I was the only person who bought the wine on a regular basis. The bar had decided not to buy the two cases it had ordered and if I hurried I might catch the Barrillean merchant who sold the wine to the bar. The bartender felt certain the Barrillean would sell the wine to me. The merchant’s name was Merritt and I should tell him to sell the wine to me at the bar’s price.

      I had never actually met a Barrillean merchant before. I had seen my Uncle haggling with an occasional Barrillean when he would buy luxury items for his guests. My Uncle never said he felt cheated. He did say he never felt he had ever paid a Barrillean merchant one penny less than the Barrillean had intended to be paid. When the negotiations were over my Uncle was always exhausted and the Barrillean was always refreshed.

      Barrilleans have heads, hands, and feet that are significantly larger than humans. They have arms, legs, and torsos that are somewhat smaller than humans. Barrilleans always seem to be having fun. They see the universe as a wonderful place to enjoy the pleasures of life. The very best of these pleasures is doing business. Sex is a close second.

      Merritt was singing merrily in his own language and stopping occasionally to give instruction, in flawless standard, to workmen carrying boxes out of his ship. As each box was carried out Merritt entered a payment code in his journal. I said his name and Merritt turned to look at me with a huge smile on his face.

      “You must be the young man the bartender called to tell me about. The wine is piled over there. Do you have a payment code or would you like to bargain first? You might get a better price. I am going back to the planet Cocuru for more of the same wine and I have no buyer for these two cases. I would have to haul the wine there and back.”

      I handed Merritt the payment code. “I believe the price you ask is fair. This wine is not easy to come by.”

      “It will soon be impossible,” said Merritt. “The winery is up for sale and I believe the new owners will plant a different variety of grapes.”

      I really loved that wine and my newly fattened bank account was calling. “How much would it cost?” I asked him.

      “I am sorry good sir. That last batch of wine is bought and paid for. You would have to negotiate with those who bought the wine, after it is delivered,” Merritt told me.

      “No, I meant how much would cost to buy the winery, after your commission of course?”

      <><>

      Merritt liked this young human. He was able to kill gloride monsters with his bare hands. It was a talent that could be in great demand. More than that, Merritt felt this young human could be trusted and that he would be good for business. “Come with me to Cocuru as my guest. I will show you the estate and you can talk to Mr. Petterton.”

      ◊The trip was spent mostly sampling Merritt’s alcoholic wares and discussing the more pleasurable aspects of Barrillean females versus human ones. Merritt also schooled me on the joys of buying and selling. I was actually looking forward to negotiating a price with the wineries owner.

      <><>

      Michael was the Master Gardener for the Petterton Winery and today he had proved his worth. He had kept the last bottling unit running long enough to empty the last barrel. It was so sad. The Petterton grape had been grown in this valley for almost 500 years and the Petterton family had been making wine here just as long.

      Samuel was the last of the Pettertons and he had as little interest in producing children as he had in producing wine. Money that should have been plowed back into the business was plowed into his personal pursuit of pleasure. Money that should have been spent repairing and replacing equipment was used to rebuild the ancestral home as a mansion. Money that should have been spent repairing irrigation systems was used to build a private lake. The list went on and on.

      As the winery went downhill, the production and the profits did to. Not only was the business end of the estate falling apart, there was no money for upkeep on the mansion. Samuel Petterton was reduced to living in the last few rooms of the mansion that were still livable.

      Now Mr. Petterton needed a better regeneration treatment than Cocuru could provide. He was going to sell everything for a few more years in a 20 year old hide. Regeneration didn’t add to your life, it shortened it. You looked younger, but Michael would rather have his God given 120 years in an old body, than be buried in a 20 year old body at 80. Samuel never asked Michael his opinion.

      Michael loved this place. He loved the planet Cocuru. The moment he stepped off the star transport Michael knew Cocuru was meant to be his home. Samuel’s father had hired him. That man had wine in his blood. He would be spinning in his grave if he knew what his son had let happen to his beloved vineyard.

      In spite of their lack of care this year’s crop of grapes was lush and full. This would have been a great year for the house wine. The new owners would plow this year’s grapes under to prepare the fields for the new grapes.

      The new owners would almost certainly be the Torenbough vineyards. Their holdings bordered the Petterton holdings. Silus Torenbough took care of his business. His family had been making wine in this valley as long as the Pettertons and he wanted to give his children a more prosperous vineyard than the one his father had given him.

      Silus had already offered Michael a chance to keep his job. He would be second master gardener after Barnabus.

      Barnabus had been one of the first friends Michael had made on Cocuru and Barnabus had introduced Michael to his future wife Mildred. Michael liked Barnabus, but Michael would never work under Barnabus.

      When the winery closed Michael and Mildred would move to the planet Thracsis and live near their children and grandchildren. Michael had been born on Thracsis and his children had moved there as soon as they finished mandatory. Mildred had been born on Cocuru and had never left the planet until she had weddings to attend and grandchildren to hold. They both loved Cocuru, but to see their children everyday would be a blessing.

      Michael heard the sound of Merritt’s ship landing. Merritt was on time, as usual. The last bottle didn’t go into one of the boxes. Michael and Mildred would open it on their last evening before leaving Cocuru forever.

      ◊Cocuru is an agricultural planet with a gentle sun and an atmosphere better than most at filtering out its sun’s harmful rays. Getting sunburn on Cocuru is very difficult, even at the equator, and a dark tan on Cocuru comes only out of a bottle.


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