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A news article about the portals gets into the Wall Street Journal. Isabella gives a small press release to the others. She raises the price. She buys a parking garage each in Chicago, Houston, and Philadelphia, and over the next week Adarin puts portals in them. She raises the price again, because there's only so much room in the hub. She is attacked by various blogs accusing her of elitism and an entitlement complex.
She takes her accumulated ticket money and her loan money and hires contractors to build a proper portal port (it amuses her to say this phrase) on her land into which the portal walls may be moved. (She made them out of relatively portable - ha - material; they should be movable into their new homes when ready without cracking, and if one breaks, Adarin can replace it.) The estimated date of the portal port's completion is in very late October, and that's because it's a rush job she's paying exorbitantly for. She expects to want to replace it with a more congenially located and prettily architected building in two or three years, not to mention better solutions than repurposed parking garages on the far ends, but an adequate port now will be better than an ideal one in a year. It has asphalt for cars to drive on and plenty of dangling signs and paint on the ground to direct them on the first floor, and ramps up for pedestrians to go from portal to portal (around a circular promenade with spaces for restaurants and suchlike to nest in, if they care to fork over the outrageous rent.) There are slots for two hundred and fifty portals in this structure and room to build another ring around it for an equal number more if she doesn't have the big pretty permanent version up soon.
She buys a garage in Phoenix, hires people to paint over its misleading signage, and Adarin puts a portal in it. She raises her prices but also starts selling week passes for just three times the price of a round trip ticket. She tells the manager-level staffperson to hire more underlings and promote one or two. She could repay her loan, now; she doesn't, in case she needs the slush fund for something.
Between portal-makings, Adarin makes mirrors; Isabella's parents get half-pairs, and there are extras around for people's daemons. Ranata is not clear on what the advantage over telephones is supposed to be. Adarin receives a telephone. Isabella's house becomes home to a nice computer.
She hires security guards and a human resources person and a payroll clerk. She buys a garage in San Antonio and Adarin puts a portal in it.
She turns twenty.
dark_light
prodigal_miser
"Uh huh. Do they realize that would shock the entire economy to instantly change methods of transportation like that? It's also a slow settling, along with traffic capacity management."
prodigal_miser
He snorts with laughter. "I'll have to write some sermons. Lots of sermons. With good logical arguments and a time for openly discussed questions at the end. That'll convince them."
prodigal_miser
"But they're not part of the religion of sense, Isabella. They will probably be upset about the crowds."
dark_light
"Yes! Anyway eventually it'll be cheap and they'll find something else to complain about."
dark_light
"How dare I put my refugees on another planet instead of fighting to get them citizenship in an existing country? Alternatively, how dare I invite immigration into a plane that rightly belongs to Earthlings, every inch."
prodigal_miser
"That does just about sum it up, though I can understand if they're worried because - bunch of conquerors that can travel through planes. Though I hope to convince them otherwise. With my charm, good looks, and my ability to throw lots of money at the problem until it goes away."
dark_light
"I mean, someone could already triangulate the plane by looking for you, or Zeviana, the colonists won't much worsen matters."
prodigal_miser
Adarin winces. "Yeah, that. That too. Annoying how it works like that. Don't tell anyone that, there will be people who might want to throw us back to New Kystle."
dark_light
"I can ask Mom to do another layer of wards around the house over mine, and Zeviana I suppose spends a lot of time on the clan grounds. Unless they look for you a lot they might miss you, since witch wards work."
prodigal_miser
"... You know I didn't even think about how the wards would help? Wow, that's fantastic," he laughs. "Even if they look they might not find me."
dark_light
"I mean, they could still get lucky when you leave warded areas, but it will certainly make it less rewarding."
prodigal_miser
"Yeah. It's still nice to have some safety, it kind of - wears after a while. That they could just come after me and drag me back to my own personal, customized version of hell."
dark_light
"No, it's okay - I'll get Mom to put another layer down when next she's free. It's a good idea anyway."