"Bull, hope this finds you well. Bull something's come up. Bull, here's the bottom line: Give up this Honeycomb business. You've made your money in the Kuiper Belt, it's time to get back home where we can talk real-time and start on the next project."
The face in the message was Jackov “Jack” Blunt, one of Bull's best managers back on Mars. He was medium height, well dressed and pretty standard looking for a suit-type. He was thinning on top, but he kept his weight down and dressed well. As best Bull could tell, he'd never revealed an original idea in his life, but few people were faster at grasping someone else's and polishing it up to present it as a shining gem. Bull needed someone on-site to be his eyes and ears, and Jack did a wonderful job of that for him on Mars.
"I wonder where Jack got this idea?" Muttered Bull, “Who put him up to it?"
Bull realized he was being unfair. Jack had simply thought about his own pocketbook, and he was fully capable of doing that on his own. Bull was selling steadily to pay for this expedition and his investment in Push-on, and ultimately that would eat into Jack's revenue. A "Sugar Daddy" big enough to support Jack's tastes was a rare commodity, and Jack didn't want to lose his.
Bull had told him several times, but Jack never wanted to believe, that the properties were there to support the hobby. It was Jack's nightmare that he would lose an empire, and now week after week, that nightmare was coming to life.
But this time on screen Jack looked quite different--a combination of uncomfortable and relieved--like a constipated man who finally gets something to happen.
"Let me introduce Mr. Phertipton, a lawyer representing your nephew, Zedakia."
The next shot wasn't in the same room, and it probably wasn't on Mars, either. It was a lawyer's office, and it was certainly the best done lawyer's office Bull had ever seen. It was done in that antique endangered species style that screams money and power ... in an understated, and very correct way. Bull paused the message. This part of the message was sent full VR so that he could stroll through the scene and admire it in detail. This lawyer was splashing money around, and something like this was a wonderful break in Bull's routine, so Bull was willing to take the time to enjoy the show.
The details were impressive, there were old books and artifacts around the walls that dated back hundreds of years on Earth, and back to the founding days on Mars. "Christ!" Muttered Bull, “It's a Magna Carta. There are only twelve originals."
This was the highlight piece, displayed in a glass-topped table in front of a mantle. Bull knew it because he'd seen one in the Australian parliament building on a school tour long, long ago. Bull completed his tour, then started the message again.
The lawyer who entered was as impressive as the office. He was perfectly done, his blond hair, graying at the temples, was conservatively styled around a handsome and fiercely intelligent looking face. The body was lean, the face skin was still firm, although this man was clearly a senior partner. The clothes were expensive and just short of immaculate. Immaculate was too easy, this slightly rumpled, hand tailored look was much harder to attain. Following him in was Zed, who had spared no effort to look impressive for this occasion, too, but next to this lawyer he looked garish and shabby.
"Mr. Burnmeshorts," The lawyer said, “John Bears Phertipton, here. I'm sorry I'm not getting the opportunity to meet a man of your accomplishments in person. Perhaps at a later date.
"I represent your nephew concerning the matter of your fiduciary responsibility to him. He is an heir to your estate, and it seems that he's concerned about your mental state, and concerned that some infirmity is causing you to do him harm by irreparably damaging that estate.
"This is a costly expedition you're undertaking, Mr. Burnmeshorts, and you did not receive my client's consent before starting it. This costly expedition could be the result of insanity, or it could be a form of relative abuse--you're taking money from my client's future income stream--which is causing him severe mental distress.”
The lawyer's tone now turned sinister and stormy, “Further, Mr. Burnmeshorts, this might not be you at all issuing the orders that are draining your estate. You could, sir, be an impostor, a poseur, destroying the estate simply for your illicit personal gain! Sir, how could you!"
"Yeah!" Chimed in Zed meaninglessly.
"Mr. Burnmeshorts ... presuming that is who receives this message, I have formally expressed my client's concerns to Judge Green here at Northern Territories Circuit Court. I have received a preliminary injunction from the court here, and it states that the court finds your actions are clearly out of character, and your assets will be frozen until this matter of identity and sound mind is fully resolved. I suggest Mr. Burnmeshorts, if this is truly you I am speaking to, that you make every effort to confirm your identity and sound mind as soon as possible.
Please do so and end this distress you are causing your nephew, who loves you dearly."
The lawyer turned to Zed, who finally remembered to say, “Yeah, Uncle. Please come back, we love you dearly and we miss you. ... I ... I want to be sure you're OK."
The message cut back to Jack, "What can I say, boss? I've got our lawyers looking into this, but they won't have anything to report for a couple days. Let me know what you need."
Bull sat there, and sat some more.
"Christ, I didn't realize I was that rich," he yelled to himself, "My goddamn nephew has found a high-priced bloodsucker and he's making a play for my money!"
Throughout the next day bad news poured in, a lot of bad news. Managers of fully 60% of his Earth holdings reported they were being served and his assets frozen. Bull ran a modestly complex web of finances, and Northern Territories, Australia isn't exactly the heart of the solar system. This suit should have been a nuisance suit. It should have been settled out of court. It should have been at most a 10% blip on his operations, and that blip should have come after weeks of discovery, claims, and counterclaims. But by kicking in a charge of relative abuse, Phertipton had neatly put this emerging global cause on his side, and globally, courts had taken notice. Somehow, without discovery, much of Bull's financial web had been revealed, not that discovery wasn't in progress.
"There are things on this list I didn't even know you owned," Commented Lester Walsh, his chief lawyer, "We've protested and counter claimed, of course, but this assault was well planned, Bull. I don't think the opening Japanese assaults in World War Two were as well planned.”
Lester leaned close to the screen, “Off the record, we're trying to find out who's the mastermind behind this. This seems clearly beyond Zed's usual areas of competence. Whoever is advising Zed and Phertipton haven't revealed themselves yet. But all this research takes time, and, painful as it is for me to admit this, we're behind the curve on this one.
He leaned back, as if he was back on record, “Bull, this has all the earmarks of getting expensive for you, very expensive, and I'd advise you to turn back immediately. If you're around, we can do some damage control. If not ... " He shrugged, “That's all I've got for now."
Bull paced. He thought about going out and inspecting the cargo hold, but held off. His mood wasn't a good one for that. Instead he headed for the exercise room, suited up, and called up Higuchi--it was time for some sumo wrestling. Bull need to hit something, and hit it hard. Bull usually played even with his opponents--he won half and lost half no matter how hard he was playing. But this time as he entered the dirt ring and bowed, he said, “Simon says: Higuchi-san, play at last session's level," And the exercise room complied. Bull's rage propelled him to five straight victories, then three loses. In the ninth round he came out early--punching, kicking and screaming in rage. Higuchi, nonplused as always, snaked a hand through all the flailing and ran him out of the ring with a simple throat hold. Bull was exhausted, battered and bruised. He slept easily that night, but the sleep was full of uneasy dreams.