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The Hot Gate - [Troy Rising 03]

Page 19

by John Ringo


  “As you say, General,” Benito replied. “May I have permission to lift? There are others awaiting our arrival in Washington.”

  “Yes,” the general said. “We should be going.”

  “Dario, you will stay here,” the foreign minister said. “There are matters to discuss.”

  “I have duties, Minister,” Dario said helplessly.

  “Benito must fly,” Dr. Palencia said. “What do you have to do?”

  “My position is in the flight compartment, Father,” Dario said. He looked at the general, in desperation. “Sir, my duties are in the flight compartment.”

  “If the foreign minister orders you to remain, you will remain. That is an order.”

  “Yes, General.” Parker is going to kick my ass for this.

  * * * *

  “Twenty-Four, prepared to lift.”

  On a hunch, Dana activated the internal flight cameras.

  “One, you don’t take off without your engineer’s butt in the cup,” Dana said. “Especially when we’re going through Earth’s rubble belt. Two, you were specifically ordered to have minimum contact with the DPs. I’m seeing two gross violations of orders at the same time. Joy.”

  “When you’re ordered by a general to sit, you sit, Twenty-Three.”

  “Holy hell,” Dana muttered. “Stand by.”

  * * * *

  “Holy hell,” MOGs muttered. “How sure are you on the boat?”

  “Sir, it’s my division’s boat,” Dana commed. “Or I wouldn’t have brought it. It’s good.”

  “Can’t that stupid son-of-a-bitch understand orders?” MOGs snarled. “I’m going to roast him over a slow flame.”

  “Apparently General Barcena gave the order, sir,” Dana commed. “I’m thinking last order from a superior sort of holds, sir.”

  “The details of how we define who is and is not permitted to give orders to whom start getting complicated. Technically, no, he’s in direct violation. Flagrant, even. But I’m not going to piss all over DPs. Thermal, remote monitor Twenty-Four. Permission to lift without the engineer’s butt in the cup.”

  “Permission to lift, aye.”

  * * * *

  “Where the hell are they?” Tyler fumed.

  “Sir, with respect,” Admiral Gina Duvall said. Admiral Duvall was short and pushing fifty with red hair and a permanent set of smile wrinkles. Most career military, especially career female military, tended to develop a completely different set of wrinkles. Duvall seemed to be stuck on happy. “With South Americans, it’s a bit like herding cats. They’re probably still having negotiations over who gets what seats.”

  “In fact, that is not the case, Admiral.” Rafael Velez was a deputy assistant undersecretary from the South American desk in the State Department. “While the inclusion of Engineer’s Mate Parker in the party was noted, with some trepidation on the part of the State Department I might add, the fact that she was one of the pilots somehow escaped our attention. Which is unfortunate. This has caused a bit of an incident.”

  “Because she’s not a Sud?” Tyler asked. “Or is it the blond hair? God, I hate racists and sexists, and South Americans meet both criteria.”

  “In fact that is not the issue, exactly,” Velez said, in a slightly strangled tone. “The issue is that... Engineer’s Mate Parker has come to the attention of some of the South American distinguished persons before. Most of them, in fact.”

  “Why?” Tyler asked. “Nevermind. There they are! Why the hell are they taking it so slow?”

  “They were specifically ordered to maintain calm flight conditions, sir,” Admiral Duvall said. “Can’t bang the DPs around.”

  “Why not?” Tyler asked. “I’d have done a hot drop.”

  The shuttles very carefully dropped the last few hundred feet and landed, lined up with the two already on the ground.

  “Okay!” Tyler said, bounding out of the terminal. “Which one’s Twenty-Three? Never mind, I see the markings...”

  * * * *

  “Ah, that is Mr. Vernon,” the Argentinean foreign minister said watching the short figure more or less running out of the terminal. It had nearly come to blows who would be the first to exit the shuttle, Argentina or Chile. Finally, EM Palencia had pointed out that the ramp was more than wide enough for both of them to exit side-by-side.

  “He seems excited to see...” Dr. Werden started to say as the magnate continued on into the other shuttle.

  “Minister and... Minister,” Mr. Velez addressed them as Vernon strode past. “It is a pleasure to see you in Crystal City once again...”

  “Where is Mr. Vernon going?” Dr. Barreiro asked sharply.

  “Ah, as a matter of fact...” Velez said, cautiously. “I am not sure....”

  “This is hardly what I call proper protocol,” Dr. Werden said.

  “Unfortunately... I don’t have any control over Tyler Vernon, Minister. I don’t think anyone has any control over Tyler Vernon. I’m not sure Tyler Vernon can control Tyler Vernon. He is less a rich man than a force of nature.”

  Vernon appeared from the shuttle, practically dragging Parker by the arm.

  “Hey, is this the South Americans?” Tyler asked, trotting up the ramp of Twenty-Four and throwing his arm over Parker’s shoulder. “Guys, I want you to meet one of my best friends. This is Comet Parker. Comet, this is Dr. Barreiro, the Argentinean foreign minister and Dr. Werden the Chilean foreign minister. I’m surprised you guys rode the other boat. When I knew I was going to have to take Myrms I specifically requested Parker as my driver. She’s the best damned coxswain in the Navy and a great engineer. If she says a boat’s good, it’s good.” He paused and looked around at the assembled DPs. “Something wrong?”

  * * * *

  “I was unaware that you knew Mr. Vernon that well,” Velasquez said.

  “So was I,” Dana said.

  “He ran into the compartment and practically tackled you,” the EA pointed out.

  “I know,” Dana said. “I wasn’t expecting it, believe me.”

  “Was it... was it a show, then?”

  “I don’t think so, why?” Dana answered. “Hang on, this window is a bit tricky. God, I wish they’d clean up the orbitals! It’s as bad as the scrapyard. No, I don’t think so. Tyler’s not like that. He just does stuff. I think he gave up a long time ago caring what people think about him. He used to play golf in the main bay of the Troy. You have to be pretty uncaring about what people think to do that. Because it looks crazy as hell.”

  “He’s not, is he?” Velasquez asked.

  “Don’t think so,” Dana said. “ ‘Bout the nicest guy I’ve ever met. Give you the shirt off his back if he couldn’t afford to give you a country instead. When it became apparent that his company had screwed up, or at least been part of the chain of screwups, that led to us losing a boat, he came down to the squadron area practically crying. I know cause I was on duty watch. I mean, he really cared. It wasn’t show. I think he’s got so much power and money about the only thing he doesn’t have is... friends? Most of the real friends he’s got are dead at this point. We’ve never... We’ve only exchanged a few words. I was surprised, too. But it was genuine. He doesn’t do anything for show. I’m still trying to figure it out.”

  “Okay,” Velasquez said.

  “We’re out of the rubble belt,” Dana said, straightening up. “From here on out it’s one grav to the gate. I can keep an eye on things. Why don’t you go up front and talk to your dad.”

  With Vernon obviously intent on using Twenty-Three, the South Americans, who were arguably the next highest DPs, had all decided that Twenty-Three was the shuttle to take.

  “Thank you,” Velasquez said.

  “De nada.”

  * * * *

  “... so there I was trying to breathe vacuum and thinking to myself, As a way to go, it’s sort of a moral victory but the method... sucks! Did that translate?”

  “Yes,” Dr. Barreiro said, laughing.

  “Very much so,
” Dr. Werden added. “It was courageous. I’m not sure I would have been willing to go up without a suit.”

  “Eh,” Tyler said, waving. “Nobody else could do it. Thank God we’ve got people like EA Velasquez here to go boldly forth. I hope your parents are very proud, young man.”

  “I am, sir,” Dr. Velasquez said.

  “He’s your son?” Tyler said, grinning. “How the hell did that happen?”

  “Dr. Palencia’s son is the engineer of the other boat,” Dr. Barreiro pointed out. “And General Benito’s son is the other... coxswain?”

  “I didn’t mean to insult your son’s driving, General,” Tyler said hastily. “If you want to transfer... we could probably stop at the Troy. It’s in position.”

  “Not at all, sir,” General Benito said. “My son said... much the same of... Engineer’s Mate Parker.”

  “Then he knows his coxswains,” Tyler said. “She’s got that special touch as a cox. I was there for her entry to the main bay. People call it luck. Nobody gets that lucky. That was genius. I decided right then and there that when she got out of the Navy, if she still had the reactions, I was going to hire her as the pilot of the Starfire.”

  “It doesn’t hurt that she is pretty, no?” Dr. Barreiro said, smiling.

  “What?” Tyler said. “Oh... Uh. No. Not...” He stopped and looked confused. “Okay, let’s be really clear about something. About my daughter’s age and some of the same looks. And... Wow. I’d never even thought about her that way. Now that you point it out... That seems kind of... stupid.”

  “If you took offense, Mr. Vernon ...” Dr. Barreiro said hastily.

  “Oh, no ...” Tyler said, still looking puzzled. “No offense taken. I just never even really noticed her looks. Which in twenty-twenty hindsight really is sort of boneheaded. You’re right. She’s hot. But I heard just before you landed you guys have had... You met her before? The State Department guy was saying something... ?”

  Dr. Barreiro’s face suffused for a moment.

  “She works with our sons,” Dr. Palencia said smoothly. “We have heard a good bit about the famous Comet Parker. Our sons talk about her... constantly.”

  “She’s really something,” Tyler said. “It’s people like her, and your sons, who are going to carry mankind to the stars. This war is going to pass. Earth will be safe and we will get out of this system and we will take humanity to the stars. We’re old, gentlemen. These are the star children.”

  “You are... very enthused by space,” Dr. Werden said.

  “I have been since I was a kid,” Tyler said. “If it wasn’t for this stupid war I’d just turn everything over to David, grab a boat like Wathaet’s and go hopping from star system to star system trading. That’s been a life-long dream of mine. As it is, the way the war is going I’ll be dead before that’s safe to do.”

  “Perhaps the negotiations in Eridani will bear fruit,” Dr. Barreiro said.

  “Let’s hope they bear better fruit than the Multilateral Talks,” Tyler said. “If Eklit can keep from giving away the store I’ll be happy. No, this is the Phony War period, Doctor. With due respect to your experience. The Rangora respect power and only power. Their own internal politics is about power for power’s sake. They view anyone who does not strive for power for power’s sake as weak. I really don’t care about power. I know that sounds bone-headed, too, but it’s true. Control? I really like having control over my own destiny and that means having high degrees of control. That I’ll go for. But again, I don’t care about control—of money, of power, of people—for the sake of control. The Rangora do. The Horvath do. You’re a diplomat. You know you have to understand the other side to be able to figure out how to negotiate with them.”

  “Indeed,” Dr. Werden said.

  “What do your analysts say about the Rangora and Horvath?” Tyler asked.

  “Depends upon the analyst,” Dr. Barreiro replied. “But, in general, our analysis is the same. My earlier words were essentially a pro forma expression of a desire for peace.”

  “Ah,” Tyler said, nodding. “I suppose that is the duty of a diplomat to automatically desire peace. I desire peace. I also require freedom. Not only for myself, but for Earth. If that can be achieved through peaceful ends, wonderful. War is waste. However, the only thing worse than war is the loss of liberty.”

  “An interesting position on the part of an American,” Dr. Palencia said.

  “You’re talking about how we more or less figured we owned South America?” Tyler said. “Won’t apologize for it. Also can’t recall the last time we got involved in your internal politics. No, that would be the Honduras thing and if it makes you feel any better, I wanted to go up to DC and bitch-slap the entire State Department. No offense, Dr. Velez.”

  “It was ... more complex than was being presented on either side,” Dr. Velez said. “That is, there were strong arguments that the action was taken as a way of upholding the rule of law. Also strong arguments that it was using ‘rule of law’ as a pretext for a coup. I was of the minority camp that held it was a better choice to simply let the Honduran government and people sort it out and not play the Monroe Doctrine game. I also was not a policy maker.”

  “I’m generally all for letting people figure things out for themselves,” Tyler said. “I don’t like people telling me what to do and I don’t like telling other people what to do. Part of that whole liberty thing.” He looked over to where EM Velasquez and his father had huddled up. “I guess they have some catching up to do. I hope you got a chance to talk to your son on the ride over, Dr. Palencia.”

  “Quite a bit,” Dr. Palencia replied. “And I am looking forward to a longer talk when we get to Granadica.”

  * * * *

  FOURTEEN

  “Why didn’t you tell me she was friends with Tyler Vernon!” Despite the tone, Dr. Velasquez was a professional diplomat and kept his features in a friendly mien.

  EA Velasquez was not quite so practiced.

  “I didn’t know, Papa,” Diego said. “None of us knew. She said that she was surprised by his greeting. But she also had more encounters than she’d discussed. Frankly, she’d never talked about her friends or social life on Troy. When we made rendezvous with the 142nd shuttles, she was greeted warmly by all the personnel including the chief and the squadron commander.”

  “Those don’t matter...” Dr. Velasquez said, waving his hand.

  “Really, Papa?” Diego said. “Captain DiNote is the favorite for the combined small boats commander when he makes admiral. He has already been selected. His name only has to be presented to the American Senate. Which means he will be the admiral of the 143rd. We have heard rumors that if more transfers come from the 142nd, Chief Barnett is probably going to take over as Squadron Flight Chief and she has no interest in maintaining ‘cultural awareness.’ She is the only person Parker had ever mentioned around us and it is apparent Parker is her protégé. Think of having her as a senior NCO, which the Nortés treat as almost more important than officers, in charge of our flight group while her former commander is our admiral!”

  “I... was unaware of that,” Velasquez said.

  “Does Mr. Vernon know that Parker has been a target of...”

  “Our ire?” Dr. Velasquez filled in, smiling tightly. “Apparently not. Or he is hiding it quite well. I wish I had spoken to Captain DiNote. I do not know if he is aware. This is quickly spinning out of control.”

  “What are you going to do?” Diego asked.

  “That will be up to the foreign minister,” Velasquez said. “For now we must simply play the game and hope that it does not explode in our faces.”

  * * * *

  “Permission to enter the flight deck?”

  Dana looked at the sender, expecting it to be one of the South American DPs, and was surprised, again, that it was Tyler Vernon.

  “Permission granted,” she commed and keyed open the hatch.

  “Hey,” Vernon said, bounding into the compartment. “Any port in
a storm.”

  “We are approaching gate emergence, sir,” Dana said.

  “Which was why I wanted to be back here,” Tyler said. “Mind if I sit in the engineer’s bucket? I won’t touch anything.”

  “Not at all, sir,” Dana said, locking it out just to be sure.

  “You’ve got better viewscreens,” Tyler added. “I just think gate transfer is cool.”

  “Changing your screen, sir,” Dana said. “Sir, there is one issue. I am required to have the hatch closed for safety and security reasons. That will put—”

 

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