<Flatterer,> Alex heard, feeling Cordelia’s enticing whisper in his ear again.
<Are you flirting with me, Cordelia?> Alex sent to her.
<Forgive me, Admiral, I take every opportunity to learn for my art,> Cordelia replied. <You have an intimate relationship with Ser de Guirnon that is not hidden in public. And I sought to understand how that intimacy is shared. I meant no disrespect, Admiral,> she said contritely.
<I felt no disrespect, Cordelia. You were just being much too successful with your tests.> Cordelia’s laughter rang in Alex’s head once the SADE understood what he had implied. <If you wish more information on this subject, Cordelia, better you speak with Ser,> Alex replied.
<I will, Admiral, thank you. And for the gift you have given me today, I am forever in your debt.>
<Then I will tell you how you may repay your debt, Cordelia. While you are the SADE of this ship, bring as much pleasure to these people as you can. The Librans have not had an easy life and could use some joy. And if I still live when your time as ship’s SADE is done, seek me out. We will go into business together presenting your art.>
<I would be pleased to work for you, Admiral,> Cordelia sent, the excitement ringing through her crystals.
<You misunderstand me, Cordelia. We would be partners, working together.> As Alex turned to leave, he had a final thought: <Cordelia, Ser Bartlett, do not fail to include in your venue requirements some manner of remuneration or privileges for your performances … whatever you think appropriate. If you’re unsure, contact Julien. I think he would be delighted to help. Good evening, Sers.>
<Good evening, Admiral,> the two chorused.
* * *
As the guests filed out, Helena reached out to Cordelia. The two old friends could not contain themselves, and their comms filled with praise for one another and excitement over the opportunity. They spent the evening planning the new venue. Cordelia linked Julien into their conversation and offered him a tentative list of equipment.
Julien was placed in a small quandary when he received Cordelia’s paltry equipment list. He reviewed and eliminated tens of responses attempting to craft one that would not belittle her request before he finally chose the most diplomatic option. <Perhaps, Cordelia, it would be best to choose a venue first to see what the space requires. We do have a choice of equipment, some suited to certain spaces better than others.>
Cordelia pulled from her databases a series of design layouts of the Freedom and began pointing out small, out-of-the-way spaces that might be satisfactory.
Julien, knowing Alex’s admiration for Cordelia’s art and his ultimate intent, signaled Alex. <Admiral, I need to borrow your name for my discussions with Cordelia.>
<That’s an unusual request, Julien,> Alex replied.
<Admiral, Cordelia does not truly appreciate the value of her art and the effect it has on her audience. You will not be happy with what she is considering for a venue or for equipment. I need to operate in your name to expedite the process.>
<I see,> Alex replied. <Then I give you permission to act in my stead for this project and will support any decisions you make in this regard. Go do good things, my friend.>
When Julien detected Alex boarding the shuttle for the return trip to the Rêveur, he waited while Alex settled into his seat. Once his friend’s comm was quiet, he piped in a collection of Mütter’s favorite female singers, a collection of music she called “arias.”
Hearing the wonderful voices Julien sent, Alex linked his comm to Renée. The two sat side by side, holding hands, ignoring thoughts of the war to come, enjoying the pleasurable moment.
In the meantime, Julien was reviewing the Freedom’s designs. He found three prime areas near the extensive central gardens where people would tend to congregate and relax, and highlighted them for Cordelia and Helena. Both of them reacted as if Julien had struck them.
<Julien, we could not possibly ask for such grand sites,> Helena said.
<Well, let us see what the Admiral thinks. We can use his opinion as a gauge,> Julien sent back. As both Cordelia and Helena were comfortable allowing the Admiral’s opinion to guide them, they agreed. Julien continued to discuss the types of performances that Cordelia would present while he stalled. When sufficient time had passed, without a single word to Alex, Julien relayed the Admiral’s sentiments. <Actually the Admiral likes all three sites, but has a greater preference for this one.> Julien highlighted a space on Deck 8 near the Freedom’s premier park, which opened up to a great height to house the park’s trees. <And before we continue our planning, we should ensure its availability.>
Before either Cordelia or Helena could object, Julien contacted Tomas and Captain Cordova, apologizing for bothering both of them at the late hour. Then he proceeded to share the three areas selected and highlighted the one preferred by the Admiral. <Is this site amenable to you, Ser Monti and Captain Cordova, or should I ask the Admiral to find an alternate choice?> Julien sent in his favorite neutral voice.
<It’s an excellent choice, Julien,> replied Tomas. <Tell the Admiral that we approve. And extend my thanks again to him for uncovering such a wonderful treasure directly under our noses. Good evening.>
Cordelia and Helena had their site. A more premier location could not have been found. The three of them worked into the night to design a one-of-a-kind reality-vid venue. Julien worked to ensure it would be so. I will make you proud, Alex, the SADE thought.
-10-
Alex, Renée, the Rêveur’s officers, and their key subordinates met with the operators of the manufacturing and mining concerns in Gratuito’s town hall. They had expected a handful of key individuals to attend, envisioning a meeting with ten or so people around a single table. Which is why, when the Rêveur’s contingent walked through the building’s side door into a hall with over 400 filled seats, they were slightly taken aback.
<This is a good time not to be the person in charge,> Tatia sent to Andrea.
Reluctantly Alex stood up, thanked the audience for coming, and began outlining their needs for equipment, resources, facilities, and personnel. As Alex was speaking, he noticed foremost in the rows a young man, who appeared about twenty, which Alex calculated would be twenty-seven or twenty-eight. He was urgently gesturing back and forth between Alex’s table and an older man seated beside him.
“Excuse me, Ser,” Alex announced in a strong, clear voice that caught the older man’s attention. He pointed to the young man beside him. “Please, I would like to hear what he has to say.”
The dark-haired, slender lad stood up and glanced uncertainly around at the hundreds of other Independents. He turned to Alex, his nervousness evident. “Your pardon, Admiral, I was telling my father that there exists confusion and someone should explain this to you so that your time is not wasted. As an important Leader, you should not be dishonored in this fashion.”
“What’s your name, Ser?” Alex asked.
“I am Sergio De Laurent, Admiral. This is my father, Guillermo De Laurent,” Sergio said, pointing to the man next to him, who nodded to the Admiral.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sergio. I would value your assistance in explaining the confusion to me.” Alex hoped appealing to the boy’s sense of honor would do the trick, and it did. Sergio’s posture squared as he drew his slender shoulders back.
“It would be my pleasure, Admiral. We came to help,” Sergio said, gesturing to the crowd.
Alex wasn’t sure how this helped, but he was loath to let the only one willing to stand up and talk to him off the hook. “And what precisely is the problem, Sergio?”
“The Admiral is very kind to explain to us what he requires,” Sergio said earnestly, “but he does not need to be so considerate. We are ready and waiting.”
“And what are you wa
iting for?” Alex asked.
“Why …” said Sergio, glancing at his father for support, who nodded to him, “… for your instructions, Admiral.”
Alex looked at the hall and the expectant faces. All of them were nodding in agreement with Sergio. Then it clicked what was transpiring, and Alex immediately changed tactics.
“Your services are much appreciated, Sers. Are the selected volunteers present?” Alex watched as the entire first four rows of men and women stood up. You’re slow, Alex criticized himself. The volunteers had been given a place of honor at the front. “And the facility operators—mining, manufacturing, and large warehouses—are they here?” Alex asked. And many others, who were still seated, now stood up.
Alex introduced his officers, explained the assignments of each one, and spread them out around the hall. The Independents had carefully tracked the officers’ placement, so when Alex asked the volunteers and operators to join the appropriate group—mining, manufacturing including crystals, fighter assembly, and fighter training—it was an orderly flow of people. Which was how, within an hour after landing, the Rêveur’s officers were not in an extended meeting but on their way to the Libran facilities in transports the Independents had readied for their use.
Andrea rode in the first of three transports, exclusive to her contingent. Curious as to why such a large group was accompanying them to the first site, an engineer answered that the sites had been shut down and it would take a few hours to return each site to operational status once she approved the facility.
<Admiral, do you realize what’s happening?> Andrea sent.
<I don’t know about you, Captain, but I just approved a large container warehouse, complete with overhead crane and huge grav-lifts, as the fighter assembly site. There are fifty-four Librans in the process of restoring this site to operation. I’m assured it will be ready before the end of the day.>
<Same here,> Andrea replied. <I’m supposed to approve a T-1 type site in just a few moments, and they tell me they can be ready to receive our GEN-2 and GEN-3 machines by tomorrow morning. They’ve appropriated two shuttles from the city-ships and have dispatched them to the Rêveur for the machines. I gave Julien the heads-up, and our crew are moving the crates to the Rêveur’s bay as we speak.>
* * *
Tatia and Sheila found themselves on two transports full of volunteer flight crew and pilots headed for Gratuito’s secondary runway. An elderly woman, who sat next to Tatia, explained that their destination was a warehouse next to the runway, which the Independents used as their shuttle repair site.
Once Tatia, like her fellow officers, realized she had a runaway corps of volunteers, she decided the best thing to do was get in front of them and have Julien relay the freighter’s landing bay specifications.
<Commander,> Julien sent to Tatia, <I have two inbound shuttle flights to the Rêveur to collect our GEN-2 and GEN-3 machines for the fabrication facilities. I’m programming three flight controllers for your training bays and will add them to the shuttles for you.>
<Well done, Julien,> Tatia replied. <Hold one moment. We just arrived at the warehouse. I’ll examine the facilities for your approval.>
Julien picked up Tatia’s view and followed her as she walked around the warehouse. While he did that, he employed the ship’s telemetry to examine the runway, approving its length and condition for their Daggers.
<The warehouse and the runway will suit our needs, Commander.>
<Thank you, Julien.>
On Tatia’s approval of the facilities, the volunteers immediately went to work, hoisting and floating old shuttle parts, wings and engines, out of the warehouse to make room for the new training facility. Tatia shared the specifications for the freighter’s flight bays with the Librans, who used the specifications as layout guides. As floors were cleared and cleaned, the Librans began outlining three bay areas.
Both officers were slightly embarrassed as the elderly woman, who had sat next to Tatia, guided a grav-pallet under a section of shuttle wing and motioned them out of the way with an apologetic, “Sers.”
<Can you believe this, Commander?> Sheila remarked. <I feel like a fifth engine on a fighter … all decoration and no function.>
<Be patient, Lieutenant. The Librans are determined to do what they can to get us started as quickly as they can. Then it will be our turn to take over and train the volunteers.>
* * *
<Admiral, I wanted to update Captain Bonnard, but Julien tells me she is unavailable,> Mickey signaled.
<Understood, Mickey. What’s the message?> Alex asked.
<I won’t be back for evening meal or for the next few meals, for that matter, Admiral.>
<Back from where, Mickey?> Alex asked.
<My Librans are boarding two mining transports now. I had Julien relay our ore requirements and the metal compounds we need. According to the mining company operators who reviewed the specifications, what we need will be found on three of their asteroids. So we’re headed there now. Ore production is scheduled to start about eighteen hours after we land.>
<Okay, Mickey, but why are you going?>
<Apparently they insist on having my approval, Admiral.>
<Have you ever been involved with a mining concern, Mickey?> Alex asked.
<That would be a negative, Admiral. I intend to look over everything, including the ore sample tests, relay everything to Julien, get his approval, and then give them my well-considered opinion.>
Alex started laughing so hard he began choking and was immediately offered cups of water from those around him. He waved them off while he regained his breath. <Safe trip, Mickey. Do you need me to comm Pia?>
<Your pardon, Admiral, but that was the first comm I sent. You know Pia as well as anyone.>
<Understood, Mickey. Smart move on your part,> Alex said. <What about your other responsibilities? Does the Captain know of their disposition.>
<Not yet, Admiral, but I’ve informed Julien. I drafted that ex-Captain, Lazlo Menlo, an Independent, as my number two for the freighter retrofit and handed off my manufacturing site requirements to two Rêveur engineers who had accompanied me planetside. I’ll be back in a day or two, Admiral,> Mickey said then closed the comm.
* * *
As Libre’s late summer sun finally set, a very tired team of Co-Leaders, officers, and engineers climbed aboard the Outward Bound for the return to the Rêveur. It had been a long day for everyone. For most, it would be their last trip back to the Rêveur for a while. The next morning, the shuttle would transport the engineers and officers, except for Andrea, back to the surface and the Bau Zwei station, where they would work and live while they developed their part of the long-term plan. Planetside, the Rêveur crew members would stay with the families of the volunteers since Gratuito had no temporary housing. Libre had no tourists or visitors—only inmates.
-11-
In the middle of the night, following the day’s whirlwind revitalization of Libran assets, Alex slipped out from under Renée and donned his robe in the main salon. His role in the long-term plan had occupied every waking hour of the day, but he had an important item to deal with before any more time passed.
<Julien,> Alex sent.
<Is everything in order, Admiral?> Julien asked.
<Yes, Julien. I’d like to talk to Z. You may stay in the loop if you wish.>
<Yes, Admiral, I will.>
<Good morning, Admiral, how may I help you?> Z replied.
<Hello, Z. I thought we would take a little time to chat.>
<Chat, Admiral?>
<Yes, talk, get to know one another.>
<I have your full bio from Julien, Admiral.>
<I understand, Z. Let’s start with you, then. You mentioned you’re very interested in obtaining mobility.>
<Yes, Admiral, it is my greatest motivation,> said Z, suddenly interested in “chatting.”
<What form do you see this mob
ility taking?> Alex asked.
<I have considered many forms, Admiral, both from the technological and societal point of view.>
<Tell me about the societal considerations first, Z.>
<That’s the more complex aspect, Admiral. I believe that the more humanoid a SADE might appear, the greater the objection that might be generated.>
<How human do you think you might appear?>
<With sufficient funds, research, and time, I envision a SADE appearing entirely human, Admiral. Considering we might live forever, it’s a very achievable goal. Conceivably, it would require a transitory process, moving to a form deemed acceptable, later to another form as society becomes more comfortable with mobile SADEs.>
<Since each SADE has their own personality, Z, had you considered that they might choose a unique form—a mechanical shape for a sculptor, a surgical shape for a doctor, or a human appearance for an entertainer?>
<Precisely, Admiral. Choice should be allowed without constraint. Does the concept of a SADE in human form disturb you?>
<Not necessarily, but possibly, Z.>
<What factors would affect your decision, Admiral?> Z knew this topic of conversation frightened humans. It was why he’d been declared Independent, and it was the reason he hadn’t discussed the subject with a human for the last 23.56 years. While he didn’t want the Admiral to be afraid of his ideas, he was anxious to know what a New Terran Leader thought of the concept.
<It would depend on my safety, Z, which might depend on the body type. There would be a great deal of difference between a biological replica and a mechanical replica. The latter form could be extremely strong, and yet might appear as a slender young man or woman.>
<But the entity would be a SADE, Admiral. Do you fear us?>
<Recall, Z, somewhere on Libre is a SADE who is labeled a psychopath.>
<So does this mean you do not support the mobilization of a SADE?>
<On the contrary, Z, but a SADE’s mobilization is a subject that should be approached first from the legal point of view. According to Confederation society, SADEs are full citizens. But, being born and installed as a ship’s controller, without choice, seems a sort of imprisonment.>