FORTY-TWO
Whatever happens from this moment on, Holly, remember that I was here when you needed me.
—Nightwalk
“Belle, are they reacting to us?”
“They know we’re here.”
“Okay, give me manual.”
“You have it.”
They were all around us. None that I could see without the scopes. But the kinds of weapons these things carried made that dim consolation. “Let me know if we light up, Belle.”
“Of course.”
“Okay, give me a channel to the station.”
“You’re open.”
“Samuels, this is the Belle-Marie. Approaching from Sanctum. What is status, please?”
“You’ll have to get in line, Belle-Marie. We see you. Hold steady on present course. I’ll give you instructions in a few minutes.”
“Ops, I’m out here surrounded by Mutes.”
“That’s affirmative. Don’t worry about it.”
“Why not?”
“They’re here to help.”
“How do you know?”
“They said so.”
“You believe them?”
“What’s the alternative?” He signed off. Moments later he was back. “You’re Chase Kolpath, right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. We’re going to move you to the front of the line, Kolpath. You’re being taken off assignment. We’ll have a replacement waiting. When you dock, please report to the ops center.”
“Samuels, can you tell me why?”
“Don’t know why, ma’am. Just come on in.”
The head of the line doesn’t mean a whole lot when you’re two days out. But I proceeded accordingly. On the way in, I picked up reports that the evacuation was going to go a lot more quickly, and that work was moving ahead on a second, larger, space station. Meanwhile, more shuttles were coming online. Spaceports were being designated around the globe, where landers could descend to pick up passengers. Ships coming in from the Assemblage had already arrived at Sanctum, carrying supplies and engineers.
I got in as quickly as I could, burning extra fuel on the way, and reported to the chief of the watch. He said he was proud to meet me, told me a private shuttle was waiting, and handed me two sealed envelopes. One contained the following: Celebration tonight (the 20th) at the Sariyavo Hotel. Your attendance mandatory. Congratulations. Tao Kilgore.
“You Sirian Koslo?” I asked.
He grinned “Yes.”
“Thanks.”
“My pleasure. Go get ’em, Chase.”
The other was from Alex: Chase, they’re telling us that if you make a reasonable jump, you’ll be able to get to the Sariyavo for the party. If not, the Administrator promises me they’ll throw another one tomorrow. Or over the weekend. Or whatever it takes. You’re the lady of the hour.
If the situation had improved, I wouldn’t have known it charging through Samuels. The children were still there, surrounded by dismayed adults, waiting for their rides to arrive. There was still only a handful of Mutes in the concourse. And, considering the way the locals steered clear of them, it was just as well.
I was halfway to the shuttle launch area when two CSS agents scooped me up. “Heard you were on the way, Ms. Kolpath,” one of them said. “If you’ll follow us, please.”
I love playing the VIP. They opened the hatch for me, the pilot asked to shake my hand, and they provided a box of goodies to munch on on the way down. My luggage arrived, and they stowed it in cargo. Was there anything else they could do for me?
“Sure,” I said. “What’s it about?”
“You don’t know?”
“Should I?”
“Chase, you’re the woman who brought the Mutes.”
There were no other passengers. As soon as I was belted down, we were on our way. We passed through some storm clouds and arrived at the Marinopolis spaceport in a driving rainstorm. They transferred me to a government skimmer, and we took off and headed east toward the center of the city. Fifteen minutes later we landed on the roof of what I assumed to be the Sariyavo, where I was handed over to two other agents. They collected my luggage, refused to allow me to touch it, took me inside, down one floor, and opened a door to a luxury suite. Lights were on, candy had been placed on the bed, music was playing softly. “Your room while you’re here, ma’am,” one of them said. She opened a closet to reveal an exquisite black gown. “I think you’ll find it’s the right size.”
“It’s nice,” I said. And I know that was a dumb response, but I wasn’t functioning at full capacity.
“They’re just getting started in the main ballroom. When you’re ready, call us, and we’ll escort you down.” She smiled. “Take your time. The party won’t really start until you get there.”
I could hear the noise before I got out of the elevator. Music. People laughing and cheering. The agents took me to the entrance and turned me over to one of the best-looking guys I’ve ever seen. Mash Kavalovski. He was the son of a treasury secretary from one of the associated states. The music stopped, and the crowd cleared a space for us. He kissed my hand, and said he was honored to meet “the hero of the hour.” A cheer went up. A few Mutes were sprinkled through the crowd. Times were changing quickly.
Mash danced with me while everybody backed away. Then they all joined in. When the music stopped, Mash handed me over to Alex.
“Alex,” I said, “how’ve you been? I missed you.”
He was all smiles. “I missed you, too, love. How was life with the Transit Authority?”
Somebody brought me a purple-colored drink that left me feeling as if I owned the world. There were more introductions to people from around the globe. To more people from the Confederacy. To fleet officers. And to Mutes, some in uniform, some not. Eventually I wound up back in Mash’s arms. “Chase,” he said, “I don’t suppose I could talk you into running off to the Golden Isles, could I?”
I wasn’t very familiar with what passed for dancing in Marinopolis, but I’m fairly flexible. Mash and I were gliding around the floor when the music changed tempo, slowed, and switched to “Time of Glory.” It was the cue for the Administrator to make his entrance.
And there he came, through a side door, still in conversation with someone. He broke it off quickly, mounted a rostrum, and waited for quiet. The music stopped. Everyone turned to watch. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “I’d like to welcome you all to this special celebration in honor of some very special people. These have been a pretty happy few weeks. And we have more good news tonight.
“The good news first: The Confederacy has announced that the bulk of its fleet is being committed—” It was as far as he got. The crowd applauded loudly, and for several minutes it would not stop. Finally, when it did, he proceeded: “—The bulk of the Confederate fleet, virtually all of it, is coming here to assist us—”
The applause started again.
Kilgore tried to continue, but his voice got drowned out. The crowd was out of control, cheering, clapping, embracing each other. I got hugged and kissed and passed around, and I didn’t mind it a bit.
Eventually he got control: “—There’s more—” he said. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s my happy duty to inform you that we believe we now have the resources to put a shield in front of the world. Even as we speak, work has begun.”
If the other announcements had gotten everyone excited, that one blew the roof off. The Administrator took a few sheets of notepaper from his pocket, glanced at them, shrugged, and put them back. It was, I thought, not a time for details.
While the hall continued to rock, he shook hands with everyone he could reach, including several of the Mutes. Those who were not in fleet uniforms wore brilliantly colored robes. I knew enough about them now to understand bright colors reflected good times.
Eventually, the audience subsided. “There’s something else,” he said. “The Coalition wants to recognize some of the people who made this night possib
le.” An aide wheeled a table out, up an incline in the side of the rostrum, and placed it beside him. There were medals on the table. With ribbons.
“The Grand Award of the Coalition is bestowed for outstanding service. It has been given to only four individuals during the entire thirty-year history of the Coalition. We will double that number tonight.
“To Alex Benedict, who was first to grasp what had happened, and whose quick action to bring it to our attention made it possible to confront the problem. Alex, would you come forward, please?”
Alex loved public recognition. Well, in all honesty, who doesn’t? He strode through the crowd and up the three steps of the rostrum. The Administrator examined the medals, selected one, and placed it against his breast. He let go and took a moment to admire the award. “Thank you, Alex,” he said.
Kilgore invited him to speak. Alex looked out over the crowd. “It’s an honor,” he said, “to have been in a position to assist the people of Salud Afar.”
More applause. And the Administrator picked up a second medal. “Is Chase Kolpath in the audience, please? Chase, are you out there?”
My heart stopped.
Now, I’m not going to pretend I didn’t think I’d made a major contribution to what was happening. But I didn’t expect to get any recognition for it. Usually the recognition goes to Alex, Alex says something nice about me while he’s accepting the award, and that’s the end of it. And it struck me as I left Mash on the edge of the dance floor and walked forward that he hadn’t mentioned my role. He’d known.
I mounted the steps. Kilgore gazed happily out at the crowd. “I’m not sure where we’d have been without Chase. She did much to bring the Ashiyyur and the Confederates here tonight. And she was largely responsible for sidestepping efforts by a rogue unit of this government to keep the Callistra event secret.” He smiled at me. “We’ll always think of her as the lady who rode the taxicab into orbit.”
Of course I hadn’t had the acceleration to achieve orbit, but that seemed picky at the moment.
He pressed my medal to my gown and gave me the floor. I tend to get stage fright, so I just said thanks and hustled back down off the podium.
“Next,” said Kilgore, “the Coalition would like to recognize the lady who helped mobilize support for us in the Assemblage: Bon Selvan. Bon, would you come forward, please?”
I hadn’t realized she was there. The crowd quieted as she strode across the dance floor. The three steps up to the podium didn’t fit her very well, so she simply ignored them and climbed up in one stride. It broke what might have been an awkward moment. There was some laughter, then a wave of applause. Kilgore held her medal and looked up at her. The audience laughed again, as did Kilgore. He couldn’t reach an appropriate place on the robe, so she bent down, and he smiled and attached the medal. Then he got serious. “I don’t know what to say, Proctor Selvan, except that we will always be grateful to you and your companions. We know it wasn’t easy to do what you did. And that the Ashiyyur were willing to take a risk in sending their fleet here. I hope this will be the beginning, as someone once said, of a long and beautiful friendship.”
She turned to face the audience. “Thank you, Mr. Administrator. Thank you all. We share your sentiments. Unfortunately, our joint history has not been an admirable one. Let us begin today. Let us make this a first step on the long road to cooperation and harmony.”
“The final award,” said Kilgore, “recognizes the contribution of a young lady from Rimway, who came here seeking inspiration, and who discovered the terrible danger that was rushing toward us. She sacrificed her life and a brilliant career in an effort to warn us. This award will be placed in a special station in the Coalition Hall of Fame. Ladies and gentlemen, we all owe a great debt of thanks to Vicki Greene.”
The celebration lasted well into the night. I danced with Alex and Mash and half the males in the place, including several of the Mutes. I won’t try to describe how that must have looked. You’d have had to see it.
I talked with Proctor Selvan, and received an invitation to visit her whenever I could. “How did all this happen?” I asked her. “How is it possible?”
She gazed serenely down at me. “It was too good an opportunity to miss. We knew that from the moment the situation first developed. But we needed someone to help us pull the trigger. To create the political wave. You did that rather nicely when you spoke to the Chief Minister.” She drew back her lips. “That’s the wrong word. Connected is as close as I can get. When you connected with the Chief Minister.”
“You mean the interview?”
“Of course.”
“But I wasn’t talking to him. I had the Director in mind. Whiteside.”
I got the fangs again. “You were talking to both,” she said. “And it appears both got the message.”
Toward the end of the evening, I found myself back in Alex’s arms. “Brilliant performance, Chase,” he said. “From start to finish.”
“Thanks.”
“I guess you’ll be wanting a raise.”
“I could live with it.”
He grinned. “We’ll figure it out on the way home.”
“Okay.”
Kilgore must have noticed Alex was getting ready to leave. He came over and shook his hand. “Thank you, Alex,” he said. “We’ll never forget what you’ve done.”
Alex looked around. And ushered us—himself, the Administrator, and me—toward a corner. Kilgore signaled his security people, and they formed a wall to keep everyone at a distance.
“What is it, Alex?”
“Mr. Administrator, I was surprised you mentioned the rogue element.”
“The crisis is over, Alex. Anyway, there’s really no way to keep something like that quiet. Best to get out in front with it.”
“Yes, sir. Of course. You know Wexler made an attempt on our lives.”
“Of course.”
“But he wasn’t in it alone. May I ask whether you’ve acted against those who were involved with him?”
“We’ve found some. Perhaps all. To be honest, we can’t prove criminal intent against any of them because we don’t think they knew why they were getting the warnings.”
“Mr. Administrator, you can’t really believe that.”
“No, of course not, Alex. But knowing it and proving it—” He shook his head. “Those who were involved have been terminated from their positions. Sent quietly away.”
“I see.”
He gazed into Alex’s eyes. “Was there something else?”
For a long time, Alex stared back. There was more he wanted to say. Maybe about power and responsibility. Maybe simply about paying attention. “No,” he said finally. “Nothing else.”
“Good. I’m glad you and Chase were there to help set things right.” He shook Alex’s hand and turned on his heel and walked off, but got only a dozen strides away before several of his guests approached him. One held up a drink to him as we watched, and offered a handshake. His smile returned.
FORTY-THREE
People like to say, during a journey, that only the journey matters, and not the destination. Believe me, Lia, the destination matters. Oh, yes, it matters.
—Dying to Know You
Even with the Salvation Fleet, as it became known, combining the naval forces of both sides with a vast number of private and commercial vehicles, escaping the Thunderbolt was still a near thing. It was never clear that the shield could be assembled in time, or, if it were, that it would be possible to synchronize its arrival at Salud Afar at the exact hour it was needed. No task had ever seemed more daunting.
The decision to go ahead with the shield stopped all evacuation attempts. When it became firm, it provoked worldwide criticism. The Administrator was put under extreme pressure, and there were even two assassination attempts. But he stayed with it, and when the critical hour arrived, so did the wall to block off the deadly gamma-ray burst.
Today he stands not only as a towering hero, but he has also become
a symbol of the interspecies peace movement. No one, they will tell you, has done more to promote a reasonable rapprochement between the two civilizations.
We did not see him again, in person, after the awards ceremony. When we checked out of the hotel the next morning, we found flowers waiting for us, with a text message that he wished us well, and informing us that we would always be welcome on Salud Afar.
I spent a rousing weekend in Kayoga, the city of romance, with Lance Depardeau. He’d recognized me from the news accounts and told me he would never have believed anyone would be crazy enough to take the chances I had in the taxicab. A few days later he showed up unexpectedly at another celebratory luncheon, and proposed to me. “It’s short notice, and I know it’s not smart to commit myself so quickly, and I’m risking losing you. But I’m also going to lose you if I stand by and watch you go back to Rimway.”
He was right, of course. We’d be too far apart to carry on a serious relationship. So I said thanks, but let’s wait and see. I fell in love with him, and left him. I entertained for a while a dream of eventually going back, or maybe of his coming to Rimway. But it never happened. And he recently let me know he’d met somebody.
I tracked down Jara, who was assigned to the Traffic Control station in East Quentin, outside Marinopolis. Unlike Lance, she hadn’t gotten a good look at who was riding in the taxi. She was too busy trying to hang on to the door.
I arrived as her shift finished, and said hello. She, too, knew me immediately as the woman who was getting all the attention in the media. But she didn’t connect me with the runaway cab. When I told her, her face darkened. “You could have gotten us both killed.”
“I had to keep going,” I said. I told her about the asteroid.
“Why didn’t you just explain?”
“Because the CSS was after me. I couldn’t afford to—”
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