Down In Callahan's Bar

The first rule of any convention, big or little, is if you want to know what's going on, stake out the bar first thing. That's where the real powers behind the Nation lurk: the pros, the SMOFs and the random drunks.

Okay, not so much the random drunks.

Anyway, the best place to get accurate information on what's happening behind the scenes at a Convention is to go to the bar, buy a beer or two and eavesdrop. Most of the conversation will be about the usual irrelevant shit, maybe the occasional dirty joke you haven't heard before, but you'll also get plenty of information about the current SMOF pecking order and other tidbits that help form a big picture about the current state of fen politics.

So that's what I did. I got into Callahan's, grabbed a stake at the bar and listened to the SMOFs talk. Since the Convention wasn't scheduled, there was more political talk than usual.

The first thing I noticed was that the SMOFs seemed to be just as much in the dark about the Convention as the rest of us. That was a bit troubling. I wasn't expecting to hear the entire nefarious plot from beginning to end over a pitcher of margaritas, but still. Apparently the SOS Brigade were keeping a low profile until tomorrow's morning session. Unusual,, that. Most Convention organizers at least make a token appearance on the first day, welcome folks, thank them for coming, the usual.

The other thing I kept hearing were dark mutterings about the raiders on the edge of the system. That got my attention. We hadn't seen any raiders on our Saturn expedition - the area's not developed, and besides Ptichka's more than capable of defending herself - but we'd heard the rumors about ice miners and rockrats vanishing from the Main and Kuiper belts.

I was leaning in, trying to get a better read on the conversation, when somebody joggled my elbow. Not an unusual thing in a crowded bar, but this had the feel of somebody deliberately trying to get my attention. I turned and took a look at the responsible party.

My first impression was "boy, this guy's is is the wrong place." He was young, late teens or early twenties maybe, Japanese, in a suit and tie that was *completely* out of place with his surroundings and he was looking at me with this sort of little half-smile, like he knew something I didn't.

(captain fnord?) he asked over the din.

(i could be,) I replied. (who's asking?)

(my name is koizumi itsuki, with the sos-dan. may i speak with you privately, please?)

Well now! Here I was trying to get some intel on the mysterious SOS, and what should happen but one of the members comes up and wants to talk to me. Truly, the gods of fortune smile upon my honky ass. I held up a palm, finished off my beer and said (just a second.) I spun back to face the bartender. (mike!)

Mike glanced at me. I jerked my head towards the back rooms. He nodded, gave me a thumbs-up and went back to tending bar. I stood up and motioned Koizumi towards the back. (step into my office.)

We wound our way through the crowded bar until we reached the back rooms. I opened the door, motioned Koizumi through, then entered. Once inside with the door closed, the overwhelming noise cut off like I'd thrown a switch.

"Much better," I said. "Now, Mr. Koizumi, you and your 'SOS-dan.' You're quite the talk of the Convention, you know. Calling one under the emergency clause, then staying quiet about your motives. To say nothing about the initial notice."

"Ah, yes. That." Koizumi had the good grace to look embarrased. "Miss Suzumiya, our leader, wrote that and had it translated herself. Her written English isn't the best and she refused to let others proof it. She can be... willful." He seemed to be putting some emphasis on the last word.

"No foolin'. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"I was sent here to request your assistance."

"Uh huh. My assistance in?"

"We - that is, the SOS-dan - would like you and your crew to support Miss Suzumiya's initiative tomorrow. More to the point, we would like you to support the initiative even if it fails to win the vote."

I blinked. That was not quite what I had expected. "Why us?"

Koizumi gave me that damnable half-smile. "Not only you, Captain. My associates are contacting other independent fen as well. In your case, you and your crew are famous, Captain," he said. "You have a quite large following, even if you don't care to notice it yourself. Your ship, the... exploits involved in acquiring it, your adventures since... well." He shrugged. "Also, you, your crew and your ship have certain skills that may be necessary."

I shook my head. "Okay, wait one minute kid. Before you go any further, would you mind telling me what your boss's proposal *is* first?"

So he told me. The story leading into it was elliptical in the telling but pretty straightforward in the gist. Apparently the SOS-dan had lucked into some sort of intelligence about the raiders; bases, numbers, goals, something like that. Instead of giving the intel to Starfleet or SSX, this Suzumiya woman had decided to instead use it as leverage to form a sort of multifractional taskforce to deal with the raiders. He finished his summation with that classic line beloved by politicans everywhere, "May the SOS-dan count on your support?"

I thought about it. "I don't rightly know," I said. "What you're proposing is... big. Really big. Without a clearer danger I doubt your boss will be able to push this through the full vote. We've all got enough rocks in our ruck without signing on to this crusade or whatever."

Koizumi nodded. "In truth, I don't expect it to pass," he said. "However, Miss Suzumiya was insistent, and I've found it wise to just, ah, let her do her thing."

"As for me and my crew," I continued, "I'm not sure. I admit that I'm tempted. If it was just me and Ptichka..." I shook my head. "But it isn't. I won't speak for my crew in this, they'll have to decide for themselves."

"Of course," Koizumi replied. "Perfectly understandable. When might we be able to hear a decision from your crew?"

I gave it a little thought. "Your boss is going to make her proposal tomorrow morning, right? You or somebody else from SOS can swing by and hear our decision an hour or so before the opening session. We're making base camp on the 33rd floor of Hab Block D."

Koizuma bowed. "I shall do so. Thank you, Captain, for allowing me to state my case."

I didn't return the bow, but gave him a coridal nod. "Best of luck in your future endeavours, Mr. Koizumi."

Koizumi left the room, letting a brief blast of noise and half a verse of "Banned From Argo" ("we're the Federation's finest, and our record is our pride") into the room. I leaned up against the wall, trying to sort through everything Koizumi said, everything he *didn't* say, and trying to make sense of it.

One: Based on what I'd heard earlier in the bar, along with other rumours, the raiders were getting bolder and more organized with each attack. Even if they're just hitting rockrats and the ice stations, sooner or later - presume sooner - they'd be a threat to the big Inner System stations: Phobos, Deimos, Luna, Stellvia, the Island, ISS.

Two: Like it or not, the belt miners *are* our primary economic link to Earth. Without the metals trade, our economy crashes.

Three: SSX usually keeps the Main Belt free of hostiles. If they're having trouble, losing ships, then it's probably something too big for any one fraction to handle on their own.

Primary hypothesis: Suzumiya is right, and some sort of multifactional force is needed.

However... Four: SSX Base hasn't admitted to losing ships in combat yet. But the SOS Brigade knew. The Brigade has been off-Earth less than a year, maybe less than six months. How did they know? Pirates don't blab no matter how drunk you get them, and certainly not about something like *that*.

Five: Koizumi said they were seeking out specific free agents. Not asking the faction leaders for assistance.

Secondary hypothesis: This is a setup. Either SOS is trying to lead fandom into an ambush, or they're the catspaw for another entity trying to do same.

Question: Cui bono? Fandom's made a lot of enemies since the wave hit, a lot of them have the money and talent necessary to play this kind of game. Whoever's behind the raiders (or SOS) could be... almost any of them.

Tertiary hypothesis: One way or another, the answers lie with the SOS-dan. The logical option would be to play along until the truth is out.

I sighed. Just enough information to make me curious, but not enough to come to a proper conclusion. Koizumi was either that good, or I was that gullible. Probably a combination of both.

In any case, I wasn't my own master anyway. My crew needed to know what was up. I pulled out my cell and dialed the ship. "Ptichka, get the others, have them meet me back at the hangar. Something's come up."

So I slip out of Callahan's and I'm on my way back to the Star to brief the crew on the SOS-dan's intentions when I'm jumped by a fan.

Jumped by a fan at a Convention. Yeah, I know. Big shocker there. But this fan was... unique.

I heard somebody call out my name behind me. The voice was high, young, female with a bit of something synthetic behind it. I turn around, and I'm expecting something like a 15 year old Warsie in stormtrooper gear who wants me to sign something. I tell you true, I was not expecting what happened next.

"OMG Captain Mal! I'm like, *so* your biggest fan! I read all the stuff about you in National Geographic and I've seen all your documentaries and it's like, wow!" My interlocutor was a spindly, flat-topped robot, rolling along on six small wheels. A mast toppped with twin cameras at right about my eye level looked at me as the 'bot unfolded her manipulator arm in friendly greeting. "I'm Opportunity! Nice to meet you!"

Never let it be said that Captain S. Malaclypse Fnord of the good ship Ptichka is an ungracious boor. I took Opportunity's manipulator and gave it a friendly, um, handshake. "A pleasure to meet you, Opportunity," I declared. "As it happens," I added in a bit more confidential tone, "I'm something of a fan of yours as well."

Opportunity's cameras swiveled. "Really?" she asked. "Cool! We need to, like, do a book or something together! I can write and you can take pictures!"

I smiled. "You know, that's actually not a bad idea," I said. "Do you have a phone number or something handy? I'm sorry to be in a rush, but I've got to meet with the crew and I'm kind of pressed for time..."

"Oh, no problem! No problem! Just call the Terraforming Office and ask for me, I'm always on-call. It was nice meeting you!" I signed her just-bought copy of 'Lonely System: Ceres' and she rolled away happily, drawing stares from even the more jaded fen.

I turned back to the path towards the hangar deck when lo and behold I found two of my crew standing there with bemused expressions on their faces. I guess they came in near the end of that exchange. "So what was that about?" asked Zib. Kat didn't say anything, she just gave me that look, the one where she didn't know what the hell was going on, but was impressed all the same.

"Oh, just another one of our adoring fans," I said breezily, grabbing them both by the arm and pulling them into the crowd. "I'll tell ya though, this place gets weirder every fucking year."