Tag Archives: Michael Findley

Nehemiah, LLC is live! Sci Fi with a hard edge and a little romance, only 99 cents!

nehemiah llc ebook 25

“Goats give milk?” asked Anthony. “And since you imported everything from Earth, why do you have weeds?”

Joan just stared at Anthony for a few seconds, then said, “Follow me.” She led him past a stone shed, then up to a cooler. She reached into the cooler and poured liquid into a small cup.

“What’s this?” asked Anthony.

“Goat’s milk,” replied Joan.

“I figured that. I mean the container,” said Anthony.

“It’s a paper cup,” said Joan.

Anthony drank the goat’s milk, then looked at the cup.

“That’s rather good. Now, what’s paper?” asked Anthony.

“It comes from tree pulp,” said Joan. “We use it because you can easily recycle it afterward. Most of the park system has trees — over a thousand different kinds.”

She took the cup from him and tossed it into a canister labeled ‘paper recycle’.

“Before you start in on me,” said Anthony, “I had nothing to do with this project. I’ve spent my whole life studying formulas and their applications. I was just low man.”

“Did you just admit to me that you don’t know what you’re doing?” asked Joan.

“Now wait a minute,” said Anthony. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”

“So what do you mean?” asked Joan. “We’ll just start over. Hi, my name’s Joan, Life Support Division Liaison to Engineering Division.”

“Ok, ok,” said Anthony. “We’re supposed to work together.”

“We’re supposed to ensure that our teams work together,” said Joan. “There is an adequate amount of technical communication between the divisions. We are supposed to soothe ruffled feathers, make certain everyone is happy, all the goals are met on time, and all schedules mesh.”

“Wow,” said Anthony. “Um, yeah. Aren’t I supposed to be the geek and you’re just a life sciences farm girl?”

“Our jobs, at this time, are to be political science diplomats,” said Joan.

“Ok. Can I have some more goat’s milk in a paper cup?” asked Anthony.

“You’re forgetting something,” said Joan.

“What?”

“Please,” said Joan.

“Oh, yeah, well please, then,” said Anthony.

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from Empire Saga: City on a Hill by Michael Findley

resized empire

“What?” laughed another man listening to them. “Spend money on the moon colony? Cut into their profits? Come on!”

“I’d rather have them raise our pay, anyway,” The small man grabbed another carton and shoved it into place. “But I can’t see them doing that, either.”

“They just might change their minds if enough of us complained,” said Joe. “We’re just taking it. We gotta do something to get their attention.”

“This is Shuttle Three,” came a voice over the console radio, “requesting landing clearance.” No one noticed.

“Com Center, this is Shuttle Three,” said the radio again. “I repeat, request landing clearance.”

“Hey, is there a shuttle out?”

“Huh?” grunted the pale-haired fellow who had commented about clean rooms. He wandered over to the console. “None of the pilots are logged out.” He flicked a switch. “Well? Who is this?”

“Like I said before,” said the voice. “I’m trying to land Shuttle Three. I didn’t put a whole lot of fuel in it. Can we make it soon?”

“But who is this?” demanded the radio operator.

“Jon Newton. Excuse me. Newton, Jonathan A., employee number 63451. I was assigned to repair Shuttle Three. Repairs being completed, I took it for a test flight. Request permission to land this D-20 infraction shuttle. By the way, who are you? Isn’t there supposed to be a real radio operator on duty?”

“I am the operator for this shift,” snapped the man. “Sam Aleti. Newton, you don’t have pilot’s rating. What are you doing flying a shuttle?” Newton and Aleti’s argument had gotten louder. Most conversations in Com Center ended as eyes wandered to the monitor.

“Ahem, Mister Aleti,” Newton began with exaggerated patience. “Pilot Viccieri is assigned to this shift but he’s … shall we say … a little too well-oiled to fly. Pilot Jones is on temporary suspension from flight duty due to one too many D-20 infractions. Pilot Ting is spending his next paycheck on a … ah … lady. Not that I mind — what someone does on his own time is his own business.

“All other pilots being assigned to sleep rotation, someone needed to test the shuttle, so I took it out. As to my pilot’s rating, I was classed A-1 readiness for flight in the Air Force before I had an emergency appendectomy and got a medical discharge to spend six months recovering from complications. May I land now?”

“Sure, Newton,” grumbled Aleti. “Come on in.”

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