the forensics of spume

part 1 here

Sipping coffee at a Paris café wasn't earning her any points with CASA, but she didn't care. In the weeks after touchdown and mandatory cell regeneration, Jasmin had sold her and Alex's two thousand square foot condo in Manhattan, then rented a flat here in Paris for an open ended amount of time. She explained: I've lost my husband of fifteen years to overexposure, due to negligence (none admitted) of your administration, and I can damn well take as much time off as I need. And want.

The investigation was still on, and CASA was implicating everybody aboard - certainly not itself. Still, it would look bad to formerly charge the widow unless direct evidence suggested otherwise. Central Authority let her go, Jasmin was hardly beyond their authority, no place on the planet was.

Jasmin drained the small cup and a twinkle in the dimming sky caught her eye. One of thousands of satellites, Europan owned, that spied on and punished human extremes. Jasmin threw a hand up and a passing waiter filled her cup. To be honest, the Europans cared little for your common, individual transgression. Those were still worked up by the local authority. The Europans, creepy little space sea monkeys, had made the world by large a fair and organized society. Everything was easier, better, but nobody liked to be controlled. Jasmin tapped the round water bowl in the center of her small table. The water sparkled with dust as it caught the rays from a falling sun. The swimming dust swirled and one mote pressed its eye against the glass and winked. Jasmin wrinkled up her nose, and the Europans - or were they just the tools of Europa?- formed into an eddy and coalesced to the top of the bowl in a frothy swirl, like a galaxy seen from afar.

She absently fingered her mobile time piece, wondering if there was a message from Bill. But no, there wouldn't be. Second captain Bill Green was a premiere CASA pilot, always walking a tight line and a company man. She was sure he had been grounded, for the time being, but that was only a formality because of Alex's premature death. Jasmin suspected she would get tagged for some sort of gross negligence in the accident, whether it was her fault or not. The only question in her mind was, would they sell it as an honest mistake, or foul play? Did Central know she and the pilot were playing patty fingers on the side? Had Alex known? He was always so absorbed with his work and data. The sun, Sol, was his obsession.

Jasmin noticed the time now. Seven o'clock. Certainly it wasn't too early for something stronger. She pushed the coffee cup away and ordered wine.

part 3 here