“Van filled me in on some. All in all, I approve. I’m at my office. I can be down in an hour.” Dad’s suite was in the legislative tower overlooking the U.N. Rotunda.
“No, I’ll come to you.”
He asked, “Can you walk?”
“I haven’t tried yet, but I’ll be there.” I rang off.
When Mother came back to gloat over her success I said, “Have we heard from the Seaforts?”
“No messages. Why would they call?”
So Kahn had kept his bargain; Mother’s response told me the Captain’s involvement wasn’t public news. Good; I owed him that much.
I wondered how the story was playing. “Can you lay hands on a Holoworld?”
“Yes, but don’t bother. Abbreviated edition, compiled over the nets. Their home office is closed, along with a dozen other towers.”
“Good lord. Did the Subs burn them all?”
“The Sheraton was worst hit, but there’s been trashing, looting, and fire. The Mayor’s advised everyone in midtown towers to work from home for the day. Ah, here’s the nurse to help you dress.”
Two hours later an aide was wheeling me into the Hugo Von Walther Senatorial Office Building, an address I hoped to claim after the next election. Built on the extensive grounds of the enlarged U.N. compound, it was one of the city’s few towers that had entrances both above and at streetside.
Outside his private office Dad gave me a quick embrace. “You look better than I feared.”
“I’m well enough. I don’t need this chair.”
“Stay in it for a day. Anything I should hear privately? I have Rex Fizer from the Senate U.N.A.F. Committee and Admiral Jeff Thorne from Lunapolis in the office.”
“In brief, Kahn agreed to total clearance of the streets, and I promised we’d give him no flak.” Quickly, I summarized our conversations. “Arlene Seafort gave me the opening, and I leaped on it. I also got Kahn to keep the Seaforts out of it. Dad, the heat will be his to bear, and we’ve cleared the way for our construction people.”
“You did well.” For a moment, his hand flitted to my shoulder. I basked in his benediction. “Confidentially, Jeff Thorne supports a change of government. Fizer is of course a Supranationalist, and with us. But don’t rub their noses in the political aspects of our agreement with Kahn.”
I was nettled. “Obviously not. That was for your ears.”
We joined their meeting in progress. Dad said, “Kahn’s people called this morning. They want a visibly bipartisan committee to consult on this one. No doubt Kahn will keep his distance and send a flunky.”
Admiral Thorne nodded. “You’ll include the military?”
“Yes, I’ll propose you for the Navy. And Rex here, from the Supras’ Senate caucus. For the Assembly, I thought perhaps Rob would be a good choice. So as not to upstage him, I’ll find urgent business in Washington for the week.”
I made sure my face revealed little. Dad liked to spring surprises on me. Political training, he called it. What my face would have shown, if I’d allowed it, was elation. I’d be in a position not only to inform Dad but to influence events.
I also noticed Dad had played it like the wily fox he was. The Boland name would be prominent, but not his own; he could take credit for success, and avoid the worst of the fallout if some fiasco ensued.
I asked, “Who’s in charge overall?”
“General Ernst Ruben. Mildly political, but professional through and through.”
“Where is he?”
“At the moment, Lord knows. He’s made headquarters in Franjee Tower on Fortieth.”
I said, “I’d like to watch from there. Can you swing it?”
“I imagine. Give me ’til this afternoon. Now, I don’t know why you went down to the street, but don’t let it happen again. That’s why we train joeykids as soldiers. You served your time.”
“Aye aye, sir.” It was deliberate, to remind him he was issuing orders in front of our allies.
“They say it’s a nightmare down there.” He went to the window, but it fronted on the river, and none of the carnage was visible. “Mrs. Kahn’s aunt was evacuated in the Sheraton fire. All sorts of people are inconvenienced, and many are hurt.”
“I was there,” I said dryly.
“Of course. Forgive me.”
After our conference I borrowed a desk, netted with Van and our office puter, and delegated as much of the routine work as I could.
No word from the Captain or Arlene.
In the heli heading to Franjee Tower, I tried Seafort’s personal caller code, got only his voicemail. He could be maddening. Most joeys let their puter screen incoming calls and forward those it thought important. But the Captain refused to work with intelliputers, no matter what inconvenience he caused others.
I tried Arlene’s line, and she answered. “Rob?”
“Thank God! Where are you?”
“Refugees have taken every hotel room in the city. We’re with the Tamarovs, Alexi and Moira. Do you know them?”
“I met Alexi once, after the war.”
“They’re putting us up until Philip’s found. You saw what he did?”
“He headed down in the elevator.”
“And he disconnected his caller; we can’t trace him. In the Sheraton stairwell, a Sub told him Jared was nearby.”
“Did you look?”
“Rob, we can’t get near midtown. No helis are to rent, the helicabs won’t consider the trip. The Unies won’t take us, or the police. The Tamarovs’ tower is at the foot of the island overlooking the seawall, or we’d walk. Nick is beside himself.”
“Stay off the streets. The soldiers are on edge.”
Her voice broke. “Rob, I need to find my son.”
“I’ve been assigned to the oversight committee, and I’m on my way to military HQ. I’ll do what I can.”
“Please! And keep us informed.”
“I will.” I rang off.
The caller buzzed immediately.
“Rob, it’s Adam Tenere.”
“Wonderful. Are you all right? Have you a caller with you?”
“Programmed to my home number. We have a problem. I just got a call from the Commandant. It seems Jared escaped the Subs and is on the street.”
“We’ll do everything we can to—”
“Remember Colonel Wirtz, on a Hundred Tenth? He’s about to gas the Sub tunnels.”
“It’s probably for the best. Knockout gas is humane. In the long run, it will—”
“He called off the knockout gas. Apparently the Subs counterattacked in midtown. Overran a Unie post, about seventy U.N. casualties. No wounded. The orders are now to kill on sight. Wirtz has a new plan to flush the tunnel with cyanide gas.”
“Lord Jesus.”
Adam’s tone was urgent. “Even the trannies don’t deserve that, Rob. You’ve got to help.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
“Hurry!” He rang off.
We set down on the rooftop of Franjee Tower. As the blades slowed I ducked out, hurried to meet the officer waiting to escort me to the elevator.
“Mr. Boland? Major Groves.” We shook hands. “General Ruben’s headquarters is on floor ninety-three.”
“What’s the latest?” My ribs were still sore; I slowed my pace.
“You heard about the massacre on Fourteenth? The General’s called for massive reinforcements, and meanwhile we’ve pulled back.” Savagely, he punched an elevator button.
Ninety-three was a whirlwind of activity. Ernst Ruben had commandeered the floorwide offices of Peabody & Company, one of the larger real estate companies. Desk consoles had been cleared of civilian business, callers appropriated, detailed city maps displayed on the sales screens.
I made a mental note to see the Peabody firm was amply compensated; they were among our firmest supporters.
“General?” Major Groves snapped a salute. “Assemblyman Boland to see you.”
Ernst Ruben turned from a viewscreen, pointer in hand.
“Goot to meet you, Assemblyman.”
“Call me Rob; everyone does,” I said smoothly. Major Groves edged away, giving us privacy.
“In that case, I’m Red. I understand you were on the streets with Seafort?”
“God, yes.” I grimaced. “You have no idea ...”
“Oh, I do, believe me. They ambushed us yesterday, and ...” His eyes searched mine. “You realize this has gone far beyond a mere riot?”
“I’d call it full-scale insurrection.”
“Ja. Truth is, we can’t contain it with the Seventy-fifth Regiment alone; I’ve called in Thirteenth Armor.”
“Tanks and artillery, for an urban disturbance?”
“They’ll support our troop carriers in the house-to-house assault.” Ruben’s gaze was steady. “We’re only going to do this once. That’s straight from the Rotunda.”
“At what cost in lives?”
“None, if the trannies give way.”
I hated to begin my liaison with an objection, but morality and Dad’s upcoming campaign left me little choice. “General, for politics’ sake, if nothing else, we have to give them a chance to surrender.”
“I already have.” He grinned. “They sent an envoy of sorts.”
“You’re joking.”
“Not at all. A ragged old man. Came under white flag.”
“What does he say?”
“He’s waiting for our terms, but I’m letting him stew. The trannies must be worried; they’ve already sent him a messenger.”
“When will your offensive push off?”
“Probably not before tomorrow. We’ll give their negotiator one chance to make peace.”
“Can he? The trannie tribes are scattered all over the city.”
“It’s a problem. I’ll set him a test, I think. Later tonight.”
I looked around for a place to sit. “The oversight committee ... where will we meet?”
“By vidcon, mostly. Admiral Thorne’s gone to the Earthport Naval base. Senator Fizer’s still in Washington, and the SecGen flew to London.”
“As far from responsibility as they can get.” My tone was glum.
“Oh, there’s always Timbuktu. But I doubt you’ll have trouble getting them on the caller.”
A window rattled, as one of the incessant military helis flew past, closer than was absolutely necessary.
Ruben snapped, “Groves!” The major left his map. “Once was funny, twice was a nuisance. Tell the flyboys to give us two hundred damn feet clearance, and I mean it!”
“Right, sir.”
“And get me another coffee. Then find Mr. Boland a console.”
Groves strode off. I said, “General, I’ll try to stay out of your hair, but we have problems that can’t wait.”
Suddenly his look was less friendly. “Such as?”
“I had a call from Adam Tenere, who works for former SecGen—”
“I know of him.”
“At your outpost on a Hundred Tenth, a Colonel Wirtz is planning an attack on the Sub tunnels.”
“And?”
“Have him wait until we can discuss it. He intends to use gas, and there may be civilians—”
“When Groves gets back, I’ll tell him. What else?”
“SecGen Seafort’s son.”
“Thank God he’s been found; having him off the streets makes our job less of a nightmare.”
“Well, that’s a problem. He went back.”
“He what?”
“Ran away again. They had him at the hotel and ... he was searching for a friend, and the trannies torched the hotel, the situation was confused ...” I trailed off.
Ruben’s eyes were ice. “Assemblyman—Rob—we’ve lost a hundred-twelve troops as of last count. I hope the boy’s all right, but if his parents had him and let him go, I’d say we were absolved of responsibility, and I’ll so advise SecGen Kahn.”
Chapter 45
PEDRO
I SAT IN WINDOWLESS room, a negotiator without negotiate. Early in day, govermen troops escorted me to tower office. Wasn’t long ’til brusque Unie officer Groves came to ask what I wanted. End to fightin’, I said. Have trannie rebels come out and give selves up, he replied.
I shrugged. “What else you offa?”
“Nothing. Only the chance for you to save lives.”
Be patient, Pedro, I tol’ self. You be a traytaman, and understand. Trannies won’t give in without trayfo. But Unies don’t seem to want nothin’ ’xcept total surrender, which you can’t give. Halber’s fightin’ might change that, but isolated in negotiate room, I wouldn’t know what he achieve. Prollem.
Wait ’n see, I told major; maybe one of us change his min’. Without a word he got up an’ left. I heard door lock from outside.
Alone, I sat. Wished I had my teapot, or old bound book for read.
After hours passed, door to my windowless prison opened. Fisherman’s joeykit walked in, dirty and dishevel.
“Peetee!”
His eyes flickered to the guard. “I’m Chaco,” he said casual. “I brought—brung a message. Private.”
I looked at guard, then door. “If ya don’ min’?”
Soldier sniffed, stalked out to the hall.
I beckoned Peetee close, whispered in his ear. “They prolly listenin’. What you doin’ here?”
“I’m ... not sure.” For a moment he groped for words. “I found Father, the hotel was in flames ... the Subs in the stairs mentioned Jared ...” Haltingly, he told me his story, and how Barth led him to me. In return, I tol’ him how I made myself negotiator for trannies.
“Do you know where Jared is, Mr. Chang? I’ve got to find him.”
I shook my head, whispered, “I gotta send you back, joeykit. We need Fisherman’s grateful.”
“Don’t you understand?” His voice trembled. “If I go back without Jared, it’s all wasted. The fighting, the respect I’ve lost forever from my parents, even ... Chaco.”
“I dunno where he is, Peetee.”
He clutched my wrist. “Don’t call me that! If they find out I’m here, they’ll call Fath.”
I debated. Findin’ Peetee cut both ways. If I sent him back to Fisherman, was likely they’d fly off to Washington compound, an’ I’d never see again. On other hand, if boy went back to street and got diss, Fisherman never forgive. “All right, Chaco,” I say loud, for hidden pickups. “Stay with me a while, we see what happen.” I nodded to boy, put finger to lips.
I bent to joeykit’s ear, tol’ him what I had in mind. At last, he nodded, reluctant.
“Chaco, bang on door ’til they answer.”
A sergeant appeared, then a Unie major. “What is it?”
“Can’ negotiate surrender ’less I talk to tribes. Put me out on street with flag. I come back in coupla hours.”
“That’s up to General Ruben.”
“Ask ’im.”
“Fraz yourself, trannie.” The door slammed.
For while, Peetee fretted with hands, like counting.
Door opened, and thickset man with carrot hair come in. Wore fatigues, with general’s stripes. “Chang?”
I drew myself up. “Pedro Telamon Chang, speakfo tribes. We ain’t introduce.”
“Ernst Ruben. I’m in charge.” He didn’t offer hand. “You want to arrange a surrender?”
“Possible. Or cease-fire. Gotta talk to my joeys.”
“Do you have authority? Would all the trannies listen to you?”
I said with dignity, “I have authority they choose to give.”
“Here’s your chance to show it. I’ll give you two hours. As proof of your credentials, get me a trannie cease-fire for the rest of the evening, from Forty-third to Forty-first where we picked you up.”
“I’ll try.”
“Do more than try, Mr. Chang, or don’t come back.”
I nodded and said casual, “I’ll need Chaco here as messenger for after. He’ll stay here while I go out. No point riskin’ joeykit too.”
“Wh
atever.” He didn’t spare Peetee a glance.
“See he gets food. All of us, we gotta take care of joeykits in world.”
Ruben’s eyes lifted to my face, with a note of reappraisal.
Two soldiers came for me, poised at either side like they ready to grab in case I go heroic. I walked with them up to roof. Wind blew my hair and billowed my coat. Was different, above. Cleaner. Wind was stronger, and without grit from streets. But no time to appreciate; they bustled me in heli and a min later we swooped down to street.
Below, Unie patrol waited with white flag. Loudspeakers already blarin’ don’t shoot, don’t shoot, negotiator comin’ out.
They escorted me to center of Broad, left me to walk down mid of street by self, feelin’ like thousand eyes be watchin’. Maybe they were. I went into same build I first came out of, and wait ’til Barth march in, his flag held high.
Ten min later, I in Four Two Sub.
Halber met me few paces from stair, walked me to main cavern. “Losin’ too many joeys, Chang. C’n ya negotiate meds, help for wound? Laser burns be godawful. We dissin’ Trannies be hurt too bad.”
“Dunno. Unies wouldn’ talk all day, then allasudden their General anxious.”
“Didja trayfo?”
“Nothin’ yet.” I saw his look of disappoint. “He sizin’ me up, Halber. Be natural, if ya haven’ trayfo with someone before. Ain’ Chang bes’ traytaman aroun’? Trus’ me.”
“Why’d you come unner?”
“I need info to tray. Tell me ’bout fightin’, and what ya doin’ next.”
“How dat gonna help?” His tone was suspicious.
“Righ’ now all they want is we give up. If we hurt ’em, maybe they settle for less. Don’ waste time, only got coupla hour. Talk.”
He sat back, thought a min, described the trannie war.
The south tip of island was beyond our savin’; too many Uppies, too few trannies. Far north, near Bronxbridge, not so many towers built yet, so Unies were givin’ it less attention. Washhites holdin’ on best they could.
The Hundred Ten wall at park had grown to major Unie base. Govermen pushout Nor’ Broads near alla way south to Ninety Six.
Three Four was another Unie camp, ’long with Four Two at Sixth, a mere two block west of where we sat.
Voices of Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 5) Page 38