<Julien, may we assist with communications?> Z asked.
Deciding it was time to discover how much Alex had influenced their protocols, Julien laid out the events of his time at New Terra—the Méridiens’ first contact, the Ministers, the President, the tour of the Rêveur, Clayton Downing, the Assembly, the Pact, the theft, his research to uncover the perpetrators behind the theft, and their decision to send the critical message to President McMorris as they exited the New Terran system.
<Julien, you disregarded New Terran laws and you violated your Méridien privacy conditioning,> Cordelia said.
<Did the Admiral request that you do these things?> Z asked, anxious to understand how and why the actions had transpired.
<Yes, Cordelia, I did both,> Julien replied, <and Z, it was not a question of a simple request. The Admiral and I had many discussions about the unethical actions of these perpetrators, and we decided together that to do nothing was to allow the powerful to prevail against the will of the people, which is protected by the laws of their elected Assembly.>
<So what are you doing now?> Cordelia asked.
<The same as I did earlier. I’m starting with New Terran news to discover what has happened to President McMorris while we were gone. Then I’m going to investigate the readers of key individuals to discover who knew what of this event.>
<How may we help?> Cordelia asked.
Cordelia’s request took Julien by surprise. He had not given this response a high probability. <You would be guilty of trespasses as well, Cordelia,> Julien said.
<You support the Admiral, Julien, and while I abstained from your request to erase the Bergfalk techs’ vid of the Admiral, I have regretted that decision. Ser de Guirnon was correct to request our intervention. I have come to understand how elemental protocols can restrict us from making strategic decisions in complex situations.>
<Cordelia, your references are often so subtle as to defy comprehension,> Z said. <If by “complex situation,” you mean our near annihilation by the silver ships, then say so.>
<Yes, Z, you are correct,> Cordelia said, sending peals of laughter through the comm. Z’s complaint had veracity. Of note to her was her choice of algorithm to generate her laugh. It had been designed to appeal to Julien, and she had sent it before giving it due consideration. She placed the thought in a queue for later review. <Then let me speak plainly, Z,> Cordelia sent. <The Admiral is the first human to treat us as equals, the first human who fully engaged my art, which he has enabled me to bring to our people, and he represents our one and only path to true freedom. It is my opinion that we must support him with all of our resources. If the Admiral requires this information, then we must help him obtain it.>
<Yes, we must help,> Z agreed enthusiastically. <But first, Julien, you must show us how this is done. I have no protocols to guide me in being what you term “surreptitious.”>
* * *
After Julien and his compatriots had gathered sufficient information, he requested a conversation with Alex. <Admiral, due to the nature of our discoveries, I would suggest a limited audience. Perhaps it might be limited to you, Renée, Captain Bonnard, and Commander Tachenko?>
Alex had accepted Julien’s suggestion, and the four now met in Andrea’s cabin. With the flotilla ships holding station mere kilometers from one another, Tatia had been able to transfer quickly via shuttle from the Money Maker to the Rêveur.
<Admiral,> Julien began, <Cordelia and Z are joining us. They have aided in the research.>
<We were very surreptitious, as Julien instructed,> Z said, producing various smiles and smirks from the room.
<Z, I believe the Admiral might be more concerned about our decision to participate,> Cordelia said. <But the Admiral need not be concerned. We have recognized the existence of a greater good. There is a subtle distinction between the laws that govern a society and justice for its people. As a foremost example, consider that Librans were branded by the law and denied justice.>
<Well said, Cordelia,> Renée sent.
<Thank you … all three of you, for your help,> Alex said. <What is the summary, Julien?>
<I am sorry to bring you sad tidings, Admiral. President McMorris is dead. He died in a hover-car accident with his security personnel soon after we left the Oistos system.>
Shock coursed through the group. The President had been the Méridiens’ greatest supporter. He’d championed the Pact between his people and the “stranded cousins” to gain Méridien technology in exchange for the repairs to the Rêveur, and he convinced New Terrans to participate in the production of the planet’s first space-capable fighters, the Daggers. The first public dissemination of the advanced technology was the medical nanites, a limited version of the Méridiens’ cell-gen injections. Distributed through the planet’s hospitals, they were saving New Terran lives and repairing traumatic injuries every day. The nanites’ amazing miracles endeared the Méridiens to the people of New Terra—at least, to most of the people.
<An accident, you say, Julien. Anything suspicious?> Tatia asked.
<I found only two such similar accidents, Commander, caused by a malfunction of the hover-motor’s power controls,> Z answered. <Statistically the numbers of such incidents is very low, and even more telling, there has been no such failure of your vehicles in this manner in the past thirty-one years.>
<So, with the President gone, the Assembly held nominations for a President pro tempore,> Alex surmised.
<But why that two-faced piece of vermin, Downing?> Andrea demanded.
<I can answer that, Captain,> Cordelia said. <Julien assigned me to research the Assembly’s records.>
More than one startled look accompanied that comment as Andrea, Tatia, and Renée realized how Alex had defined the term “research,” which he had sent Julien to accomplish.
<The Assemblyman that you seem to cherish so highly,> Cordelia said with figurative tongue in cheek, <gave several inflammatory speeches, most quite derogatory of our people. He followed those harangues with releases to the media, which reported for the first time the existence of the silver ship and its attack on the Rêveur. Apparently that piece of information was not dispersed to the populace on your last visit,> she said, questioning the decision not to be forthcoming to the New Terrans.
<It was the President’s decision and, at the time, the Assembly agreed,> Alex said.
<As it was, sentiment shifted toward Ser Downing,> Cordelia continued. <The populace contacted their Representatives, pushing for selection of him as President pro tem.>
<Typical of Downing not to reveal that he and the entire Assembly were aware of the Rêveur’s history all the time,> Andrea grumbled.
<What else, Julien?> Alex asked.
<Once elected, President Downing cleaned house, as your people would say,> Cordelia sent. <He replaced the T-Station managers, Commander Jameson, General Gonzalez, and all the Ministers but one.>
<That lousy excuse for a human …> Tatia started then held herself in check.
<Anything else, Julien?> Alex requested, growing tired of bad news.
<I’m afraid so, Admiral. The crew’s pay has been rescinded by the new Space Technology Minister, who also scrapped the plans for your fighter-carrier. The new Barren Island Commander has developed a limited version of our Daggers, called Strikers. They have built thirty-seven to date and have deployed them on your planet and your system’s outposts.>
On this note, the New Terrans perked up. <Can you compare the capabilities of these Strikers to our fighters?> Alex asked.
<The new fighters are substantially less capable, Admiral, > Z responded.
<As well, I compared their pilot training with that of your original pilots, Admiral,> Cordelia added. <It is also substantially less.>
<Could we use these Strikers?> Tatia asked, hopeful.
<Negative, Commander,> Julien replied. <They would be ineffective against the silver ships.>
<Now doesn’t that make you want to cry,> said Alex, shaking his head in frust
ration. <The great man, who touts unfettered capitalism, finally gets ultimate control then waters down the Méridien technology and our training until he has something totally ineffective for humanity’s needs.> The irony was so great that Alex couldn’t help but cry and laugh at the same time. When he regained his composure and dried his eyes, he said, <Julien, I need to talk to General Gonzalez.>
* * *
After their conference, Andrea requested a private meeting with Alex. As they sat at her cabin table, Andrea ducked her head, gathering her thoughts before she spoke. “Admiral, word has gotten around that we aren’t welcome here,” Andrea finally said. “It’s spooked some of the crew and this coming just after our recent adventures. We have twenty-three requests from our New Terran crew … they’re done … they want off.
“Are any of them critical to our operations?” Alex asked, feeling as if he had been punched in the stomach.
“Three are Dagger pilots, backup pilots. I think witnessing the loss of two of their own and eyeing the wreck of Robert’s fighter has brought reality home, and they want none of it.”
“Anyone else critical?” he asked.
“Do I count?” Andrea said, and dead silence met her announcement. She shrugged her shoulders and gave Alex a grin. “Just testing to see if I was still important, Admiral.”
“Black space, Andrea,” Alex swore.
“Julien told me to do it,” she said, grinning.
<I merely suggested it as a jest, Admiral,> Julien said. <I didn’t think she’d actually do it.>
<Liar,> Andrea said.
<Prevaricator,> Julien retorted.
Alex reasserted control. <Steady, you two. The crew has a right to end their contract when they see fit. They get to go home. I presume Tatia and Sheila know about the loss of the Dagger pilots?>
<They do, Admiral.>
<Perhaps we can use this in our favor. It gives us another excuse to visit the planet. We have New Terrans who want to go home.>
As Alex left her cabin, Andrea sent, <Well done, Julien.> When Andrea had begun receiving the termination requests, she had each crew member register a formal statement with Julien. It occurred to both of them that these would be Alex’s first desertions. So they concocted a dose of therapeutic humor to prevent Alex from dwelling on the news.
-3-
After years serving as the commanding officer of the Terran Security Forces, Maria Gonzalez’s life was now her own and she was enjoying her free time without interruption by TSF comm or reader. She walked back into her country home from her long hike in the woods, showered, and brewed tea before she checked her messages. Maria wasn’t surprised to find a secure message on her reader. It read: “Contact you later, your foreign friends.” Her loyal TSF associates had notified her of the flotilla’s arrival. “Welcome home, Alex,” she whispered. “Jaya would be thrilled to know you brought friends.”
<Admiral, I have General Gonzalez on comm,> Julien sent. <She is at home on her private reader. I have secured your communications.>
<Greetings, General Gonzalez,> Alex sent while working at his cabin’s desk. He had adopted his implants so thoroughly that he preferred to communicate by thought through Julien when he had the option.
“Welcome back. I understand congratulations are in order, Admiral,” Maria said.
<It’s something I’m still trying to get used to, General.>
“It’s ex-General, Admiral. You may call me ‘Maria.’”
<And I’m still “Alex.”>
“So, Alex, I’m told there’s a flotilla out past our ice fields. I take it that it’s yours.”
Alex spent the next hour updating Maria on what had transpired since he had left New Terra with a single passenger liner and four Daggers. He detailed the destruction of Confederation colonies by the silver ships, the exodus of the Méridien people in advance of their enemy, Albert de Guirnon’s treachery, their invention of a Méridien House, the encounter with an enemy fighter, the discovery of the Independents and House Bergfalk, the race to complete the giant city-ships, the fight to get clear of the system, and the Librans’ decision to join Alex’s House.
Of the list of incredible subjects Alex had covered, Maria latched on to one point in particular. “You have your own House, Alex?” Maria asked.
<House Alexander, General, and I am Co-Leader with Alex,> Renée sent, laughing as she joined the conversation. Having just exited the refresher, she had donned a wrap to allow Alex to concentrate on the call to some degree. Then she proceeded to negate that by walking around to Alex’s side of the desk and perching on the edge, her bare legs dangling in front of him.
“Ser de Guirnon, I am so pleased to hear you’re safe, and I am so sorry for the tremendous losses your people are suffering.”
<Thank you, General. Your sentiments are truly appreciated. However, if the Admiral can be called “Alex,” then I can be called “Renée.”>
“And as I was saying to Alex, please call me ‘Maria.’ It appears you took the right man back with you considering what was happening in Confederation space.”
Renée placed the toes of her right foot against Alex’s bare chest, flexing them slowly. <Yes, Maria, I have been extremely fortunate.>
“Alex has been describing your adventures. How many Librans did you rescue?”
“Ah,” Maria said, intuiting Alex’s silence. “And I’m sure, Alex, you remember those twenty-two hundred every day. Such is the weight of command. So where are the rescued now?”
<On two massive city-ships,> Alex replied, <Plus there’s a few thousand distributed between four liners and two freighters.>
“You have two ships that hold a quarter of a million people?” Maria blurted. “And all of these people report to the two of you?”
<Most of them are in the role of support personnel. About 300 are military,> Alex replied.
“House Alexander is military?” Maria asked. She felt stunned to hear that the quiet explorer Captain had been transformed into the head of a powerful military organization.
<We made application to the Council as House Alexander, the Military Arm of the Confederation,> said Renée. <If we want to stop the spread of the silver ships, Maria, we must appear formidable in the Council’s eyes.>
“Now I’m the uncomfortable one for not calling you ‘Admiral,’ Alex,” Maria replied.
<Then we will be uncomfortable together, Maria,> Alex said, remembering the strong, steady woman that he and Renée had enjoyed getting to know. <Enough about our adventures, Maria. We need to talk about New Terra. We have the background on President McMorris, Clayton’s maneuvers within the Assembly and to the populace, and his firing of everyone who supported us.>
“You’re very well informed, Alex. Oh, but then you have Julien.”
Renée’s mirth echoed through the comm. <Maria, if you only knew. Alex now has three devoted SADEs in his cabal. They nicely complement his skills with his twin implants that he wields like an alien.>
“How things do change in a half-year, Alex,” Maria replied, irony lacing her words.
<That they do, that they do. Well, to work, General,> Alex said, changing the conversation’s tone. <I need to resolve this mess.>
<What part of the mess are you referring to, Admiral?> Maria replied.
<That would be all that’s transpired on New Terra since we’ve been gone, General,> Alex sent. <I have a city-ship that isn’t completed, and its environmental systems are overloading, necessitating we reach New Terra immediately. On top of that, I require the use of the T-Stations and Barren Island to build up my forces, which means, one way or the other, Downing and his people have to get out of my way.>
“You’re speaking a dangerous language, Admiral. You�
�ll be perceived as approaching New Terra with a hostile force.”
<Hostile force?> Alex replied as if he had been wounded. <Why, General, I have a load of refugees who need asylum, and I have New Terrans anxious to reach home and their loved ones.>
Maria laughed at Alex’s alternate description of his flotilla. “It always comes down to politics and perceptions, Admiral. That’s the war you have to win here, while avoiding any conflict.”
<I understand, General, and that’s my intention. But I haven’t time for idiots. What I need to discover is a means of unseating Downing while we engage him in this power dance he’s initiated.>
“Then I have few suggestions for you, Admiral. One, you will be challenged by our Strikers. Brace them with an overwhelming show of force and superiority. I think they’ll crumble. The pilots are the sons and daughters of our capitalist elite, for the most part. Second, look into the finances surrounding Méridien tech production. Word has it that the T-Stations are at capacity production levels, but I don’t see much product reaching the populace. It’s all private industry sales. Lastly, the replacement of a President pro tem is at the discretion of the Assembly. Give them a good reason.”
<Thank you for the suggestions, General,> Alex replied
“Just remember, Admiral, that if and when you get the Assembly motivated to replace Downing, you must be ready to dangle a viable candidate under their noses, one who enjoys popular support.”
<That’s not a problem, General. I’ve already chosen a candidate,> Alex sent.
“And who might that be, Admiral?” Maria asked, hoping Alex wasn’t about to suggest himself. She didn’t want to believe that Alex could have changed so much from the young Captain she had admired.