Sol (The Silver Ships Book 5)
Page 13
“Why now, Tribune?” Julien challenged. “Is it because the UE is failing, economically and politically?”
“That’s —” Brennan started to say and then stopped. “That’s not a well-known fact,” he finally said.
“How bad?” Alex asked. The group had come to a halt and formed a small circle around the tribune, forcing the station’s inhabitants and visitors to flow around them.
“Twenty years or so,” Brennan admitted.
“If you wait until there’s an economic collapse, Tribune,” Julien said, “your system will descend into chaos.”
“There’s always that remote possibility, but —” Brennan started to argue.
“A 0.1 percent possibility of avoiding a chaotic end,” Z added.
“I wouldn’t argue with the SADEs, Tribune,” Alex said. When Brennan showed his confusion, Alex said indicating the two SADEs next to him. “Allow me to introduce Julien and Z, cognitive digital entities. What you might refer to as artificial intelligences. Strange term though. There’s nothing artificial about them.”
Ian Brennan looked across the faces arrayed in front of him — large, slender; ordinary, beautiful; human and artificial — and felt his legs go weak, but he never felt the strike of the deck. When the black mist began to dissolve, Ian felt powerful arms under him, carrying him toward a door labeled medical clinic. Black fading to gray allowed him to identify his rescuer as the president.
Suddenly, another beautiful face with flame-red hair swam in front of his, calling out his name. “How does everyone know me?” Brennan mumbled before passing out again.
* * *
Ian Brennan came back to consciousness on an extremely comfortable medical table. Touching his head, he felt the cool metal of a small device attached to his temple. Shifting onto his side, Ian sensed the table arrange itself to accommodate his new body position. For a moment, he thought the movement under him was indication he might be overwhelmed and about to pass out again, but no nausea or blackness came on. In fact, he felt fine.
“You may sit up, Tribune Brennan,” Terese said, sweeping into the cubicle. She examined her medical reader and reached up to remove the monitoring device from Brennan’s temple.
“Were you aware of the extent of your thyroid condition, Tribune?” Terese asked.
“Thyroid condition?” Brenan echoed in confusion. “I knew I was suffering lately from fatigue, always tired, but I thought it was just stress, the work,” Brennan replied.
“Yes, I can imagine playing tyrant is extremely taxing,” Terese replied. “Well, you won’t need to bother seeing a doctor now. You’re free to go. I’ve commed the president. He’ll be waiting for you outside. Through there, Tribune,” Terese said, gesturing down a corridor and walking away.
“Wait … won’t I need continuing medication?” Brennan called out.
“Medication? For what purpose?” Terese asked tersely.
“To keep the symptoms at bay,” Brennan replied.
“You’ll have no more symptoms, Tribune. As of this moment, 73 percent of your thyroid function has been restored. Within two more days, it will be fully restored and should remain that way. Be on your way, Tribune. I have people who I prefer to treat.”
Brennan found his way out of the clinic. The president was waiting for him as the red-haired woman had said he would be.
“Well, Tribune Brennan, now that your medical disaster has been permanently averted perhaps we can continue our conversation,” Alex said, indicating they should continue walking.
“That’s what the woman said … the striking woman with the red hair … she said I was cured. But how?” Brennan asked.
“Another of those technological advancements of ours,” Alex replied.
“Do you think that you might share some of these capabilities with us?’ Brennan asked.
Alex stopped and faced the tribune. “First, stop warring on your own people. Prove you can act like a civilized human society, and then come visit us in peace. Maybe then we’ll see about sharing what we know. Come to think of it, I advise you to send the good Captain Lumley. He knows the way … that is, of course, providing the captain doesn’t leave with us.”
* * *
Cordelia left the station’s admin offices, intending to join Julien and meet the tribune, who had just arrived. Instead, she heard Jason’s young voice desperately calling her name.
“Come quick, Cordelia,” Jason urged, running up to the SADE and grasping her hand, unaware that he was tugging on an avatar, to no effect whatsoever. “Hurry! It’s Ginny. Something’s wrong.”
Jason released Cordelia’s hand and ran down the corridor, waving for Cordelia to follow, but his spindly little legs weren’t anywhere as fast as the algorithms that drove Cordelia. She raced up behind Jason, scooping the boy up in her arms, and moving through the corridor at a speed that frightened humans, Earther and Haraken alike.
“Point the way, Jason,” Cordelia said, keeping her voice calm for the boy.
She needn’t have been concerned for Jason. The breeze created by Cordelia’s pace was blowing the boy’s half-scalp of hair back and only accented the smile momentarily plastered on his face.
“Turn here,” Jason said, pointing to a side corridor.
With her avatar’s weight, Cordelia’s feet were unable to maintain traction against the decking for the sharp turn, and she quickly shifted Jason to her right side as her left shoulder impacted the corridor wall, leaving a significant dent in it.
“Uh oh,” Jason whispered, looking back at the dent. He directed Cordelia for a few more turns before he cried, “Stop, Cordelia! She’s in there!” Jason was pointing to an abandoned supply compartment. The door was slightly ajar. “She won’t let anyone come close to her, Cordelia. Not even me, and I’m her best friend. She just cries and holds her ears.”
“Stay here, Jason,” Cordelia said, setting the boy down gently.
The door was jammed, but Cordelia forced it. The resulting squeal of metal elicited sobs from deep in the room. Cordelia made her way as quietly as she could through the wall of empty shelves, finding Ginny huddled in a far corner, tears streaking her face and hands covering her ears.
The sounds of our world overwhelming you, little one? Cordelia thought. She lowered herself next to Ginny, making as little noise as possible.
In moments, Ginny abandoned her corner and crawled into Cordelia’s lap, pulling her legs up to her chest, forming the tightest ball she could.
I’ve only just become mobile, little one. I’ve no experience as a mother, Cordelia thought. Searching for information on children, Cordelia was struck by the image of the Swei Swee young, riding the backs of the matrons, and falling asleep to Mutter’s lullaby serenades. The centuries-old SADE had been gracious enough to share her extensive library of human compositions with Cordelia to use for her visual art, and Cordelia carried many of her favorites with her. Selecting the gentlest renditions and barely whispering, Cordelia began to sing.
Song after song came from Cordelia’s lips until Ginny slowly uncurled and crawled upward to place her partially repaired ear on Cordelia’s cheek. Over time, Cordelia ever so slowly increased the volume, and Ginny slid back down into her lap, placing one ear against Cordelia’s chest.
The tiniest whisper of feet signaled Jason creeping through the shelves. When Cordelia saw him, she held out an arm, and Jason snuggled in close, timidly reaching out a hand to Ginny, who reached out to hold it.
Cordelia continued to serenade the children until both fell asleep. It was hours later when Julien eased through the open storage door and silently crossed the room to Cordelia. The sight of the two children huddled asleep in Cordelia’s arms stopped his processing for the barest of moments. For the gifts that continue to come our way, thank you, my friend, he thought.
Julien, listen
ing to Cordelia’s soft voice, sat down across from her and the children. In one hand dangled the pair of Earther noise-canceling ear covers Cordelia had requested.
-13-
Space Admiral Li Chong, the supreme leader of the UE’s naval forces, having completed three days of ship requisition planning with staff, returned to his headquarters housed in one of Mar’s more expansive and well-appointed domes. After exiting the connecting airlock from the transport dome, Chong chose to walk to his quarters.
The admiral’s adjutant was careful to keep his distance. This was one of the few opportunities Li Chong had to decompress. He enjoyed people watching and letting the lush greenery, planted along the walkways, ease the tensions created by the duties of his office.
After an enjoyable meal, Chong took his glass of wine to his desk, letting out a long sigh. He expected his message queue would be extensive and it was worse than expected. Pulling up those marked urgent first, he worked for several hours, before the desire for sleep overcame him.
With the demands on Chong’s schedule, it was two more days before he opened Admiral Portland’s message, which hadn’t been marked as urgent. Chong got up from his desk to get another cup of caf, while Portland’s message played, but in moments he was hurrying back to his desk to hit replay, listening intently to the message.
Portland was heard saying, “I’ve obtained reliable information, Admiral. The Harakens are intending to make a play for the moons of Saturn. It’s a logical move on their part. Saturn is entering an alignment phase with Neptune. But in good conscience, I can’t wait until the Harakens have backed my forces into defensive positions against our moons’ colonies and stations. It’s my opinion that the only way to handle this problem is to interdict the Harakens before they’re underway from Idona. My fleet is headed there as of the time stamp on this message.”
Chong’s eyes flicked to the message’s date and swore enough to blister his monitor’s coating. Portland had been underway for over seventeen days. Immediately, Chong opened a message to Tribune Woo, attaching Portland’s message to his own.
“Tribune Woo, you should be as shocked by Admiral Portland’s message as I have been,” the space admiral recorded. “It was my understanding from you that the Harakens were hands off unless they moved inward. Portland indicates he possesses information that the Harakens are planning just such a move. This seems specious to me. I believe Admiral Portland is glory hunting. If you haven’t bypassed my command, which I doubt you have, then you had best check your own ranks. Portland wouldn’t have made this move without someone putting him up to it.”
Chong closed the message and sent it as admiral priority. What I wouldn’t give for some of those Haraken FTL comms probes about now, Chong thought. He debated sending a recall order to Portland. Even knowing it would arrive too late, he finally decided to do so just to have it on the record.
What bothered the space admiral most of all was the Harakens would soon spot the fleet headed their way, if they hadn’t already, and they would have no way of knowing that Admiral Portland’s actions were unauthorized by Tribune Woo or him.
“Well, Portland, you always wanted my job,” Chong said to the empty room. “Let’s just hope against all odds that you’re successful. ’Cause if you’re not, my over-adventuresome fool, you might end up unleashing the fury of these strangers on all our heads.”
* * *
Tribune Woo was in her chambers when the comms operator called about an urgent message he was transferring to her console from Space Admiral Chong. After unlocking it, Woo sat back in bed with a glass of lemon water to listen and then spilled it down her nightgown rushing to sit up and restart the message.
After several replays, Woo sat thinking about Chong’s warning that he thought someone in her ranks put Portland up to this action. She knew it wasn’t Brennan and his associates. They were keenly interested in coopting what the Harakens were accomplishing. That left the enclave of high judges and Tribune Lucchesi.
Despite knowing that she should wait to confront Lucchesi in the morning, she leapt out of bed, dressing quickly and hurrying down the corridors to Lucchesi’s wing. Security passed her through the first two checkpoints, but the man stationed outside the Tribune’s private quarters stated that Lucchesi had retired for the evening.
“Tell you what, Sergeant,” Woo said, looking up the 30 centimeters to the guard’s face and locking eyes with him. “How about I just announce a general breach of security within the Tribunal’s domain? Then a fresh set of security will sweep all of you up and sort through who broke protocol. And while they are escorting you off to some deep, dark hole, I’ll have my chat with Tribune Lucchesi.”
The sergeant’s swallow was quite evident before he replied. “One moment, Tribune Woo, I’ll let Tribune Lucchesi know you have an urgent matter to discuss.”
“You do that, Sergeant, but tell the tribune not to keep me waiting.”
The sergeant returned within minutes, ushering Woo into a sumptuous sitting room and quickly vacating her presence. Woo took in the quality of the furnishings and whistled softly. “It appears someone is making the most of their title,” she murmured.
Woo sat in one of the plainer chairs, still a plush piece of furniture, and fumed for the additional quarter of an hour it took Lucchesi to appear. Yet, he still looked as if he had just rolled out of bed, tying his robe about his ample waist.
“This is most irregular, Tribune Woo. What’s the emergency?” Lucchesi demanded.
“You’re the emergency, Lucchesi,” Woo replied hotly. She wanted to get off her chair and poke a finger in Lucchesi’s ample belly, but during the time she waited, she schooled her thoughts to consider her evidence, which was suppositional, at best. “Admiral Portland’s fleet is sailing toward Neptune to engage the Harakens!”
“This is indeed news,” Lucchesi replied, “but couldn’t it wait until morning? There is little that we can do about it at this late hour.” Lucchesi chose one of the most sumptuous chairs in the salon to settle into while he appeared to be surprised by Woo’s announcement.
“According to Space Admiral Chong, Portland has no orders to leave Saturn’s space, much less to travel to Neptune to take on the Harakens. According to Chong, someone put the idea in his head. My credits are on you or the enclave of high judges.”
“That’s a felonious accusation, Tribune Woo. I would be careful making such libelous statements,” Lucchesi said, pretending a show of indignation. He would have jumped up to emphasize the point, but those days were long past. Struggling to rise would not suit the show of resentment the moment required. “What’s your proof of the enclave’s or my involvement?”
“None, as of this moment.”
“Hah, thought so. You come here, in the early morning hours, throwing about your malicious accusations, all because you have a rogue element … in your military, I might add, and you’re seeking to make a scapegoat of the judiciary.”
“Don’t play your games with me, Lucchesi. I know you’re complicit in this, and I will find the proof. What you don’t realize is the great mistake you’ve made. Tribune Brennan’s reports indicate Idona has become enormously profitable with minimal problems. It could be a model for the UE, and Portland is about to end that.”
“How? By ridding us of the Harakens?”
“You actually think he will win against the Harakens? You’re deluded.”
“A UE fleet anchored by a battleship, several cruisers, two destroyer squadrons, and loaded with sixty patrol ships … how could Portland not win?”
“For a man of the judiciary, you seem to know quite a bit about this particular fleet.”
“Well … well, I read the military bulletins, Tribune,” Lucchesi stammered.
“Only there are several problems with your plan, Lucchesi,” Woo said, standing to hold up a finger to him. “One, the population has been squeezed economically as far as we can manage without inciting a general revolt. Word is out about Idona Station, and people wa
nt to see it succeed … are hoping it will succeed. How do you think they’re going to react to the military wrecking that?
Woo moved closer to Lucchesi to make her next point, and she could see the tribune disliked the imperious action, but his ego and his weight kept him pinned in the chair. “Two, Portland just left Saturn uncovered, which allows the single, greatest concentration of rebels in our system free access to freight and passenger drops to support them. What if they decide to revolt against the resident militia while Portland is gone? And, three, what if the Harakens simply pull up stakes from Idona and take over Saturn’s colonies and stations? They have the speed to outmaneuver our ships or didn’t you read that military bulletin, Tribune?”
Woo watched the emotions flick across Lucchesi’s face. This was the moment she hoped to have when she chose to confront him in the middle of the night. What she saw was Lucchesi reconsidering his plan in light of the arguments she just enumerated. You’re guilty, you idiot, of making the biggest mistake with the Harakens since High Judge Bunaldi played heavy-handed with them, Woo thought. She shook her head in disgust at Lucchesi and marched her small frame out of his salon.
* * *
A senior comms officer was woken in the middle of the night by the head of the Tribunal security. “Up and at ’em, Captain. Tribune Woo needs you on the Harakens’ comms as of now! Don’t bother taking time to look pretty. The tribune said it’s an emergency.”
The captain took one look at the head of security, whose jacket was absent and whose shirt wasn’t even tucked into his pants. He jumped into a pair of pants, pulled on lined boots, and threw a shirt on. The two men hurried from the officers’ quarters to the comms station, where Tribune Woo, dressed in her nightclothes and a robe, was waiting impatiently.
“Ah, you’re here, Captain,” Woo said in greeting, pulling out the central comms chair for him. “I need to speak to Tribune Brennan.”
The captain halted in mid-position as he was rotating the chair to sit. “But Tribune Woo, Tribune Brennan is on Idona.”