Conclave (The Silver Ships Book 20)
Page 12
Alain replied.
Jess explained.
Alain sent.
Krokticka waited until Alain left the salon for his sleeping quarters. Then she made the call.
Krokticka sent.
Jorjatok sent and closed the link.
Krokticka wished she’d objected to her patriarch managing the request. There was no doubt in her mind that Jorjatok might have something in mind other than what the envoy had specifically requested.
In Jess and Lucia’s sleeping quarters, Lucia inquired, “Talk now or later in the morning?”
“I’m awake now,” Jess replied unenthusiastically.
“I’ll make thé,” Lucia replied. Then she climbed slowly and deliberately across Jess to exit the bed.
Jess chuckled at the exhibition. Then he left the bed and headed for the refresher.
“What are you thinking?” Lucia requested, as she placed thé in front of Jess and sat next to him on the couch.
“This feels like round two,” Jess said cryptically.
“How so?” Lucia asked.
“We’ve more potential technological power, and we intend to use it to influence alliance politics,” Jess replied. “Has Alex often used Omnian technology this way?”
“Absolutely,” Lucia replied. “Dangling our tech has done more to stop wars and bring peace to areas of space than our combined fleets.”
Jess frowned, and Lucia set her mug on the holo-vid table. Then she turned toward Jess, her knees touching his legs. “It’s not just offering our tech,” she explained. “It’s the conditions that are wrapped around the offer. Alex has always been careful about that. Omnians don’t gain influence over a race or races because of the exchange. We’ve given away much of our tech, except for the training of citizens and the license fees for our ships.”
“Then we point out to the Tsargit membership that the next phase of our tech might be the ability to move Messinant domes,” Jess reasoned. “For that knowledge, we request the members do what?”
“The subtlety required is Alex’s forte,” Lucia replied.
“That’s not an answer,” Jess grumped.
“I know,” Lucia agreed. She reached for her mug, sipped on the hot liquid, and added, “Then again, you and I aren’t Alex, which requires we think longer and harder on the problem. We’ll get there.”
“Let’s approach it from the other end,” Jess offered. “What’s our desired outcome?”
“Balance,” Lucia promptly replied.
“You need to start giving me better answers than that,” Jess retorted.
Lucia laughed. “I’m encouraging you,” she said. “You’re the commander and the one who knows the alliance races.”
Jess was tempted to laugh at the absurdity of their conversation, but he realized his partner was right. He’d been hoping that Lucia would come up with a solution, but that was his job.
“Okay,” Jess said, focusing his mind on what he considered desirable outcomes. He sat in thought for so long that they finished their thé.
Lucia sat their mugs on the table, curled up next to him, and fell asleep.
When an idea finally occurred to Jess, he wondered why it had taken him hours to come to the conclusion. He sent a request to the Trident on station at Hyronzy. Then he rested his head against Lucia’s and closed his eyes.
Alain woke and checked his message queue, which was managed by the Trident’s controller. Most of them were notes of welcome. Embedded in the list was an acknowledgment from Jarmonin’s staff that he was cleared to speak first to the membership. He knew Krokticka was too thorough to allow such a simple error.
“Whose machination is this?” Alain mused. “And why first?”
Further down the queue was a message from Jess, and he quickly connected.
Jess would have continued, but Alain’s laughter interrupted him.
When Alain stopped laughing, he sent.
Alain had to chuckle at the suggestion. It was sim
ple and elegant to the point that it carried Alex’s trademark. After time in the refresher, he enjoyed his meal and finished as Krokticka entered.
Wiping his mouth, Alain said to his senior staffer, “I’ve confirmation of my speaking slot.” That Krokticka ducked her head told Alain what he suspected. “You spoke to Jorjatok.”
“Yes, Envoy. I only meant to relay the news that you’d speak to the representatives,” Krokticka said apologetically.
“You’re in a difficult position, aren’t you?” Alain queried.
“I admit I made a mistake, Envoy. I’ll resign from my services,” Krokticka replied contritely. Her head hung low.
“Do you wish to resign?” Alain asked gently, which popped Krokticka’s head up.
“No,” Krokticka declared softly.
“Then what are you going to do about the problem?” Alain inquired.
Krokticka drew her slight frame upward. “I’ll speak to my patriarch,” she declared. “I’ll inform him that my duties are to the outpost envoy, and that he should no longer expect me to divulge any information or communications with you unless specifically requested by you.”
“Then make it happen,” Alain said. After that conversation, he left the table to prepare for his presentation to the members.
Immediately, Krokticka called Jorjatok.
Krokticka was stunned. She’d assumed fealty to her patriarch was paramount. Then her responsibilities to the envoy had clashed with Jorjatok’s actions. Now she understood that he’d been leading her to this critical moment when she must decide where her duties lay. She’d chosen, and he’d welcomed her choice. A huge weight was suddenly lifted from her slender shoulders.
Alain emerged from his sleeping quarters to find an emotionally resurrected senior staffer. “I take it the problem has been resolved,” he said casually.
“It has,” Krokticka replied, flashing her teeth. “Apparently, I was slow to understand the nature of my duties. My patriarch has approved of my choice to be fully committed to you, Envoy.”
“Good to hear,” Alain replied. He turned toward the salon’s exit, and Krokticka signaled the doors open.
Alain and Krokticka rode lifts and walked corridors to reach the huge assembly chamber. At the entrance to the hall, Krokticka left Alain and headed for the gallery. Whereas, Alain entered the corridor that led to the short lift to the assembly dais.
Entering the council ring, Alain noticed the eyes and orbs of every councilor on him. While he still found it difficult to read the expressions of most aliens, the councilors’ glares were easily recognized.
“I sincerely hope you have something helpful to say, Envoy,” Jarmonin remarked as Alain passed.
Alain merely nodded and waited to be introduced by the lead councilor. When his time came, he stepped out of the council ring and walked downstage.
“I greet the Tsargit’s representatives and their staff,” Alain said. “I’ll be brief. I’ve a project update to share with you and a request from the outpost commander. At this time, Mickey Brandon and his engineering teams are moving a dome.”
As Alain expected, his first statement created a buzz among the assembled individuals. Questions from the members were shouted at Alain, but he held up a hand and soon the representatives were quiet.
“The initial step of moving a dome was facilitated by the discovery of the method by which a dome can be safely deactivated,” Alain continued. “Undoubtedly, you will want to know why this project is underway. The simple answer is that it might take lifetimes to recreate the power and engineering abilities of the Messinants. However, we’ve discovered many domes in systems where sentient life isn’t present or never will develop. It’s our intention to prove that a dome can be relocated. If we’re successful, then we’ll be able to connect far distant worlds.”
When Alain paused, the representatives erupted in an attempt to be first to pose their questions.
Krokticka caught the flick of her patriarch’s eyes toward her. A quick scan of the audience revealed the Crocian member staring at her.
Despite Jarmonin’s request to Alain that he hear the first question on his list, which would be from an elder race’s representative, Alain pointed a finger at the Crocian.
The Crocian member rose. He was aware that he walked a fine line. The project’s secret was out, but the specifics of what the Crocian engineers had learned were still to be guarded. The engineers and the techs from his home world had been hired under a directive that they weren’t to discuss the project’s details, and they’d complied.
“If you’re successful in this endeavor, Envoy, can you tell us how you’ll make the discovery available to alliance members?” the Crocian asked.
“That’s an excellent question, and, in the near future, you’ll have the ability to answer it,” Alain replied. “Alex Racine is organizing a conclave. Within the coming annual, it will be held at Sol, the humans’ home world. One of our city-ships will be here to transport a committee representing the Tsargit to the conclave. We recommend that you discuss the distribution of domes there.”
The Crocian held up a scaled, clawed hand. “A remark, Envoy, if I might,” he said. When Alain nodded, he said, “You promised a request from the outpost commander.”
“I did,” Alain replied. He glanced toward Jorjatok, who raised an eyebrow. The offhand expression told Alain who had arranged his morning presentation.
“The outpost recognizes that this is a challenging time for the Tsargit, and the commander hopes that the new elections will signal stability within the organization,” Alain said. “Commander Cinders would be pleased to report to Alex Racine that the Tsargit’s committee to the conclave and the new councilor election will well represent the political body.”
The audience was stunned by Alain’s final statement, and staff members hurriedly parsed the implications inherent in the message. To many, it was clear.
Alain didn’t wait for questions. He left the stage, entering the council ring. As he passed Jarmonin, the lead councilor nodded at him. “Better than I could have expected, Envoy,” Jarmonin said.
Krokticka connected to Alain to relay the next actions within the hall. She wasn’t surprised when her patriarch was recognized, which annoyed the elder races.
“Councilor Jarmonin, under the circumstances, I think it would behoove the membership to retire and reconsider the slate of councilor candidates,” Jorjatok said. “It’s obvious that the resources of Omnians and allies are ushering a dynamic new future into alliance space. Based on the envoy’s remarks, we’d be advised to consider the implications of the outpost commander’s request and his future view of the newly remade Tsargit council.”
While there were objections from the elder races, the centrists and the consortium members overrode their complaints, and the meeting was adjourned.
Krokticka chittered.
12: Resistance Tactics
As a moon orbi
ted a verdant world and spun slowly, darkness progressed across its face. When it fell across the dome, a traveler slipped over the horizon, flying close to the rugged terrain. The pilot used canyons and craters to get as near to the dome as possible without being detected.
High above the dome, telemetry antennae focused on the action on the platform deck.
The carrier captain, Norsitchian commander, Ude, and the other brassard leaders watched intently.
Platforms fired continuously, and insectoids maneuvered cargo from one platform to the other. Then they disappeared in flashes of blue light.
“I think the constant light within the dome makes visibility of the moon’s landscape impossible,” the Earther captain opined.
“Why isn’t the Colony focused on this planet?” a brassard leader mused aloud. “It’s a healthy planet, no sentient cultures, and the twin shuttles in the launch tubes appear operational.”
“Priorities. Whatever they might be,” the Norsitchian commander replied. “The insectoids are intent on defending some other location.”
“I would suggest that it has something to do with the dome network,” Ude volunteered. He was the single human among the carrier’s forces, who were responsible for clearing the Colony from domes and planets.
“Elaborate,” the Norsitchian commander requested.
“While I was recuperating from my repairs, I studied the dome network with the help of a SADE,” Ude explained. “We might have expected the Messinants to have created a clever integrated network. It’s anything but that. There are many terminal lines that radiate from the central mass.”
“We’re aware of those,” a brassard leader pointed out.
“If you were the Colony, and you knew that you faced a determined enemy, what regions of the dome network would you protect?” Ude posited.
Ude’s question gave the commander pause.
“What would you protect, Ude?” the Norsitchian commander asked.
“That depends on what I believed would be the war’s outcome,” Ude replied. “Previously, the insectoids might have thought they were winning. Now they might believe that it’s necessary to fortify some sections of alliance space to protect their gains.”