“Mr. President, may I say a few words?” the admiral asked.
“Certainly, Admiral Delgado.”
Admiral Delgado was a short bulldog of a man, with a heavy frame that indicated he’d probably played football at some point in time.
“We’ve been doing some testing at Pearl. The first time I saw a F-16 lift vertically off a carrier’s deck... well that was pretty exciting. We’ve put Benko-Chang turbines on a half dozen birds, now. We’ve been testing their flight characteristics, their ability to deliver ordinance.
“It was pointed out to me by Captain Gilly that it wouldn’t take much more modification to make those jets able to function beyond the atmosphere. As a result I’ve ordered two more birds pulled for those modifications, plus I ordered a captain and a couple of commanders to come up with some training regimen planning. If I can be excused shortly, I’ll use those as nucleus for the training and plans group.”
“That’s fine. Right now, we need to discuss our options in the Middle East. Madam Secretary,” he gestured to the Secretary of State.
“Mr. President, President Sarkozy of France assures us that the French can read maps as well as we can, and that they know that the Iranian ICBM launch was intended as a direct intimidation of France.
“We know what the French response was intended to be. A hundred and twenty megaton thermonuclear weapon that would have detonated about a million miles from Earth, directly ‘overhead’ of Tehran at midnight on a clear night.” She grimaced. “It would have been many times brighter than the sun and there would have been a fair number of people with eye injuries. We have, for the time being, talked him out of a nuclear response to a non-nuclear threat.
“To put it mildly when one nuclear-club country launches an empty ICBM in the direction of another nuclear-club country, even if it lands short, and the second country threatens to detonate a nuclear weapon in very high orbit... things are bad. Very, very bad. At some point in this exchange of bluff and counter-bluff someone will make a fatal miscalculation and a lot of people are going to die. None of us want that, but on the other hand, what can we do? Iran cannot continue to rattle its nuclear sabers.
“We have engaged our allies and selected other countries in both bilateral and multilateral talks. Everyone is nervous and, frankly, most of the smaller states would be happy to do almost anything to get rid of the threat — anything that didn’t cost them money or rock their domestic political boats.
“At this point, sir, we need to pull a diplomatic rabbit out of the hat.”
The President turned to Stephanie. “Professor Kinsella, what is the status of the Ad Astra Project?”
“We flew the final test flight a week ago. The Space Service is reviewing the flight test data and expects to accept the ship in another week or so. Then three weeks for final crew prep and loading and then the ship will launch.”
“And if the Space Service signed off tomorrow, how quickly could the ship be up?”
“Seventy-two hours later, sir.”
“So, a week from now wouldn’t be a stretch?”
“No, sir.”
The President pointed to Admiral Delgado. “Your first official act is to do something about training. Your second official act will be to see that the Space Service signs off on Ad Astra by tomorrow unless there are substantive reasons not to. Your third official act is to review personnel files and promotions of officers assigned to the Space Service.”
“Yes, sir!” Admiral Delgado said with considerable eagerness.
“After that, give whatever support is necessary to get Ad Astra ready to go a week from tomorrow.”
“Yes, Mr. President!”
The man that Stephanie recognized as the Speaker of the House spoke up. “What’s the rush, Mr. President? It wouldn’t be good to have something happen to this ship because we rushed.”
“I will give the House and Senate leaders a separate briefing shortly, but suffice to say that I’m planning on pulling a diplomatic rabbit out of my hat.
“This is ultra top secret — which means that if it’s leaked in advance we will find the source of the leak and if it’s someone from the Executive Branch, they’ll be fired and under indictment at once. If it’s one of you august legislators, you’ll be persona non grata at the White House for the rest of my term, and I’ll go on national TV during prime time to explain why I think the individual shouldn’t be reelected. I will actively campaign against whoever it is, even if that person is from my party.
“And, I might add, leak if you want, but it won’t change anything. This is going to happen. You can either put your shoulder to the wheel, or, if so disposed, oppose me... once it’s made public.
“A few weeks after Ad Astra returns we will hold a conference of world leaders in Australia. Only democratically elected governments will be invited. The topic of discussion will be the formation of a new international group that will lay out the rules for establishing off-world colonies.
“After the conference, I will stand in the well of the US Senate and ask the Senate to rescind the US membership in the United Nations. I will propose that henceforth that we pay dues only for certain organizations such as the World Health Organization.”
There were indrawn breaths. “One of the points we’re pretty sure we can get passed in the international conference is a statement of intent from the other countries to at least review their UN memberships.”
“But the UN...” one of the deputy Secretaries of State murmured, awe-struck.
“Has had its day,” the President said simply. “In the last dozen years it has passed more than a hundred Security Council resolutions requiring action on the part of the members. Zero of those have been implemented in any meaningful way and most of them were watered down to begin with. For seven years running the United States has tried to gain a seat on the UN Human Rights Council. We have failed each and every time while nations like Syria, Iran, Cuba, China, Venezuela and Russia succeed... I could go on and on, but the inmates are in charge of the UN asylum.
“I would prefer to concentrate our efforts on a multi-national international organization that will actually do something.
“And where the inmates won’t be invited to join.”
There was a lot more talk, and then the meeting was adjourned. John Gilly turned to Stephanie. “I feel like I was sandbagged.”
“Nothing of the sort, John,” she replied.
Admiral Delgado appeared. “Captain Gilly?”
“Yes, Admiral?”
“One of the names that will be going to the President before the close of business today will be yours, to be in charge of the Space Service Rescue branch.”
Captain Gilly looked startled. “I’d certainly like that, sir. But I’m committed to the Ad Astra mission.”
Admiral Delgado grinned. “Captain, if there was any way that I thought I could knock you out and impersonate you on that flight, I would. I’d even trade you jobs.”
“Yes, sir. It would be quite a fight.”
“So, your appointment will be effective the day after Ad Astra is due to return.”
“In that case, Admiral, I’m your man!”
“Admiral,” Stephanie interjected.
“Yes, Admiral Kinsella?”
“About this Admiral Kinsella stuff. It would be rude to turn it down or resign, you understand?”
“Very rude,” the admiral agreed.
“So, the President has asked you to review the Space Service personnel files. I’d be obliged if you would find my file and flag it ‘Review for promotion: January first, 2030.”
The admiral laughed. “And what makes you think you might be qualified for another star a week after you’ve turned forty-two?”
“Oddly enough, I think that was how old you were when you were up for your first star.”
He laughed harder. “Now that you remind me, I have to say that I was indeed.”
Stephanie smiled at him. “Just so you know: I do like to win; I love
being first.”
Admiral Delgado gave her a salute. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Admiral Kinsella, I have a number of action items I have to deal with as expeditiously as possible. You’d hate for me to forget even some of the lesser ones, wouldn’t you?”
Stephanie tossed him a wave. “That’s why we have aides, Admiral.”
A few minutes later, Stephanie picked up her cell phone as they went through the last gate at the White House and entered DC traffic.
“Anna? Stephanie. They want to launch in a week. I’ll assume the Space Service will promptly notify the military members of the crew. Notify the scientific staff, if you will, and it wouldn’t hurt to remind the military crew, in case there’s a slight delay in them getting the word. Check with Colonel Saunders to make sure that all our ducks are in a row.”
Stephanie snapped her phone shut. John Gilly grinned at her. “So, the yellow brick road is a couple of weeks closer than I expected.”
“As soon as I heard I was scheduled for this meeting, I alerted Anna that we’d be going early. My bet was a week.”
“It must be nice to predict us so well.”
She turned to face him. “John, I wish I could. If I predicted things that well, I’d have told them no on the Fore Trojan rescue attempt. On a lot of other things. I never imagined, for instance, that the Israelis would be so eager to find a new home. I’m in awe that they got one probe back, much less two.”
“Surely you’re not jealous!”
“Of course not! I don’t want to send an instrument package to Tau Ceti — I want to go and see for myself. But they were happy to share the data with us.”
“And no one else.”
“John, Anna has a new job.”
“A new job?”
“Sure. She’s given her notice. Two weeks after Ad Astra returns, she’s off to ‘other opportunities.’”
“And that is significant how?”
“She’ll be building a ship on the east coast of Taiwan. The Zion.”
“An Israeli ship? Wow!” He whistled at the last.
“John, please don’t tell anyone, but that ship will be the size of Ad Astra and nuclear powered. When it’s complete, it’ll lift to the outer asteroid belt where the Israelis already have a manufacturing complex. There it will go from a hundred meter sphere to a hundred meter sphere with a boom a half kilometer long. They are already testing personnel modules that can be built to simple designs, at least relatively simple designs, and hooked together. As many as life support permits.
“Anna says that they will take a thousand colonists out the first time, then increase the numbers for each trip after that. Substantial increases.”
“They expect to move everyone?”
“Probably not more than half,” Stephanie replied. “But it will substantially reduce the risk to the Jewish people that a moonbat in Iran can wipe them off the map.
“Not to mention, the Taiwanese want a chance to get out of the shadow of mainland China. The Chinese crackdown in Hong Kong two years ago effectively ended any hope that Taiwan will willingly agree to hook up with China.”
“Who would have thought that they would kill the goose that laid golden eggs?”
“They didn’t kill her, John. They just gave her a hysterectomy.”
“Now what do you want to do?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Back to my hotel. I’ll get a limo tomorrow, early, for the flight back to Hawaii.”
“I’d be happy to give you a lift.”
She patted his arm. “John, once before I threatened to tell your wife how easy it is to seduce you. Tonight you need to spend time with her, getting her adjusted to one week instead of four weeks. You will not help things if you tell her that you want to get up at 4 AM to get me to the airport for my flight.”
He laughed. “Actually, I’m not sure I want to get up that early, myself.”
“I get to sleep on the flight. When we arrive in Hawaii it won’t even be noon! I’ll have all those extra hours in my day! I love it!”
“Admiral Kinsella,” he started to say.
“Uh oh! I’m in trouble!” she said lightly.
“If I thought you’d actually sleep on the flight, I’d be a happy camper. Instead, I’m sure you’ll stay awake until eleven or twelve, Hawaii local time, tomorrow night, working. If you were one of my officers on a war patrol I’d have some of my ship’s masters-at-arms tie you to your bunk and I’d have the doc sedate you for a few days so you’ll be refreshed and ready for Ad Astra’s mission.”
“John,” she said softly, “answer me something honestly. Have I ever seen you nod off in a meeting?”
He nodded.
“And have you ever seen me do the same?”
“No, but I’m not in my early twenties. I didn’t nod off back then, either.”
“Well, the first time you see me fatigued, you can bring the subject up again.”
She laughed at him. “Besides, you missed my briefing of General what’s-his-name. It took a bit to get myself assigned to the bridge. I’m going to make coffee and do environmental readings. Not exactly rocket science and I’m not exactly going to be busting my you-know-what.”
“Your father taught you how to make coffee; you’re an expert. Why would you want to do that for men who are certifiable assholes?”
She grinned. “Why, Julian Schwartz bet me ten bucks that his environmental scrubbers will deal with all the complex hydrocarbons that living things excrete. I’m about a hundred times more positive than he is that he’s wrong. Still, if they can deal with the complex aromatics that coffee gives off, they can deal with practically everything. He trusts me enough so that he’ll let me make environmental readings.”
She grinned smugly. “We all have our niches to fill on a trip like this. We just can’t have someone sitting on her bottom, doing nothing, no matter what she had to do with getting the ship ready to lift.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“A word that you’d stump our esteemed General with, since it’s longer than three syllables. Colonel Saunders would ask you to spell it.”
“My wife taught me in the first few months we were married never to use a word I can’t spell. She teaches third grade and is a spelling tyrant.”
Chapter 9 — Off to See the Wizard
Stephanie looked at the face next to hers in the steamy mirror in the bathroom as she dried off after her shower and as she started to brush her hair. “I was concerned, you understand. I’ve never really let anyone get close before. Letting someone into my life was a really big step. This has been better than I would have dared to imagine.” She smiled broadly, but he just continued to wash his face.
“Thomas, at first I thought I’d be okay with leaving you for a month or two so I could go tom-catting across the universe. Now I have trouble imagining not seeing you when I get home at night or when I wake up in the morning. I don’t think I can go that long, cold turkey.”
Thomas paused and looked at her, then went back to washing up.
“Look, I knew I screwed up when I arranged for you not to be able to come along. At the time I was just being my usual clever self, not really thinking about the ramifications of you being without me — and vice versa.
“So, Thomas, I’ve decided. You are going to stowaway on the first starship. Piece of cake! You will go down in history! A permanent place in the Guinness Book of World Records, because this will be the one and only first manned interstellar flight! I just hope you’ll still be speaking to me once you’re aboard! It’s going to try your patience, but you will just have to keep quiet until you’re a fait accompli.”
As if in response, he stopped washing and looked right at her. “Meowr!” Doubting Thomas contributed his feline punctuation to her thoughts.
“We’re going to scandalize the Air Force, of course. First of all, the only bag that will work for you is my camera bag. I’m not about to leave my cameras home, so they will have to go in my duffel bag. Thus, something
from my duffel bag has to stay at home. The stupid dress the Space Service says a rear admiral should wear, that’s what isn’t going! A dress! Can you imagine a ship full of female officers in free fall? Every last one with her hands rigidly at her sides, trying to keep her skirt from floating over her head? Idiots! Morons!”
Stephanie Kinsella went into her bedroom and looked at the clothes she’d laid out on her bed for this trip. Her mother, she knew, would be appalled, but Stephanie had no intention of making her bed this morning; she only made her bed once a week when she changed sheets, and this wasn’t the day. Why change sheets today, when in a couple of weeks when she got back, she’d have to do it again?
Jeans and a t-shirt for today. She was sporting her favorite t-shirt, the one with a map of the galaxy and the “You are here!” arrow. She had a little surprise that she’d made up to go with it, but that was for later. Don’t all reserve rear admirals wear Nikes, jeans, t-shirt and no bra on their first duty assignment? Oh yeah, the President and a raft of others were going to be there and there would be speeches and all of that.
She grinned. Nope, a short black woman wearing jeans, a t-shirt and no bra wasn’t going to be on the speaker’s list. She’d looked up her position on the official crew list. She was listed as “supernumerary personnel.” A spare, in case of trouble. Well, she had a little surprise arranged for that eventuality if it happened, just like she’d arranged so many other things.
No wonder military officers were strange! The only way she would achieve her heart’s desire on this flight was if one of two people died. A lot of military officers owed promotions to battle or disease that opened up slots for them to fill. A hell of a thing! She didn’t care if her mother would be scandalized by her language. It was insane to pin hopes of advancement on someone else’s death.
Thomas came and sat on the bed to watch her dress and she suppressed a giggle. Imagine the surprise of the supply officer if he checked container CJ-47! Four tons of 'absorbent, oil,' complete with a mil spec number. That should have alerted anyone who knew her that there was something fishy about that cargo container. Not that even a visual inspection would have helped, because a lot of places use kitty litter for oil absorbent. Only if someone went through the entire container would they have any chance of finding the four twenty-five pound bags of cat food and the two cases of canned mackerel that Thomas just adored, which she had snuck aboard as well.
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