Pavel’s attention is still on the doorway when Igor, his old adversary, steps into the room. Igor stops and stares back at Pavel for a few seconds, then without uttering a word, also sits down. These two men have battled wits across this table many times, usually in disagreement. But over the last couple of years, they have begun working together in an unprecedented level of cooperation.
Once the last invitee arrives, and takes his seat, Pavel walks to the double doors and closes them.
Pavel immediately speaks up, loudly and authoritatively, “Presidents come and go, yet we remain.” He runs his gaze up and down the rows of seated men, and then continues, “Igor and I have called this meeting to discuss the return of the Terran, and the impact it will have on our plans.”
Igor stands, rests his hands on the table top, and leans forward purposefully. His expanding belly rests against the table’s edge and threatens to knock over his glass of water.
Pavel motions to Igor, and says, “Igor, the floor is yours.”
Some of the committee members fidget nervously. They almost preferred it when Pavel and Igor would argue. The growing cooperation between these two men appears to be a move by one, or the other, for the Presidency.
Igor’s powerful booming voice belies his short stature, “Since the moment of the Gamin’s departure, we have assisted the Americans, Australians, British, and others, with vast resources. In the beginning, we provided the Terran with twenty, state of the art nuclear reactors; then we provided the Americans with vast amounts of aid following the destruction of the Californian coast line. This last year, we have assisted the British in converting from an oil-dependent nation, into self-sufficiency.”
Many of the committee members begin to mumble amongst themselves as Igor’s brief history lesson reminds them of what they have done for other nations.
Igor steps back from the table, and begins to pace the room. He continues, “Last night I received a communiqué from Petrovich. It details both the successful establishment of the new colony, and lists a number of design flaws in the Liberty.”
Pavel puts a hand to his chin and grins as committee members demand to know what flaws. None of them seem to ask the same question he did when Igor informed him last night of the communiqué. That question was; ‘how did he do it without leaving the ship?’ The answer should be obvious, but the concept of trust is too much for many of those present.
Igor’s voice rises above the growing bedlam, “This affects us in more ways than any of you realize.”
The room becomes quiet with the comment. Many turn curious gazes to Pavel and Igor as they wonder what they have not been told.
Igor places his hands on his hips, which only serves to exaggerate his growing girth, and says, “Our own spacecraft utilizes the same technology as the Liberty.”
“What spacecraft?” Demands one of the committee members, visibly irritated.
Another shouts, “We should have been involved in such a decision!”
A third voice, loud and angry, dominates the room with the words, “Since when did the President stop seeking this committee’s consent for...”
Igor interrupts the man by shouting back even louder, “The President does not know.”
The room falls into an uneasy silence after Igor’s comment.
Pavel stands, lifts both his hands high in the air, and says, “Gentlemen… gentlemen! Our new President has been in office for less than one year. He knows almost nothing about what we have done, and what we are doing.”
“Treason,” calls out one of the committee members, “this is treason!”
A few members quietly mumble their agreement, the word treason runs up and down the table like a tidal wave.
Igor shakes his head from side to side, then demands loudly, “What would you have us do? Tell this new President everything we know? Seek his permission?” He stares at those seated, walks to the table, slams his fist on it, and shouts. “No! We do what is right for Mother Russia. The stupid people voted out the man who was with us from the beginning.”
While Pavel and Igor are trying to regain control of the meeting, the room’s double doors open. A tall thin man enters the room, his expensive business suit is impeccable. Pavel catches Igor’s blank stare and open jaw, then turns to see who has intruded upon their meeting.
The Russian President walks to the table, puts his hands on his hips, and asks bluntly, “What’s going on here?”
The tension in the room instantly escalates, and while many of those seated take pleasure at the situation, two men in particular are not happy. Igor opens his mouth to speak, but Pavel beats him to it when he says, “Mr. President. The committee welcomes you.”
“Indeed,” he replies scornfully, then adds, while glancing around the room with narrowed eyes, “If so, then why did my invitation come from the Minister of Economics?”
One of the seated men suddenly coughs. His face flushes, he did not expect to be called out.
While the room falls into an uneasy silence, the President steps to the table, places his hands on it, then demands, “Tell me everything.”
Five hours later, the room is occupied by only three people. The President holds out his glass, which Pavel fills with vodka once more. Igor, who is quite drunk, begins to chuckle. He holds up his glass, sloshes alcohol over his hand, and says, “Comrades in space!”
The President begins to laugh, and replies, “I don’t think the other committee members will be a problem anymore.” He chuckles even louder then adds, “I would not be surprised if we get a resignation in the morning.” He scoffs, “Minister of Economics, indeed, that fool can’t even balance his own bank accounts.”
Igor laughs loudly, “You should have seen the look on his face when you mentioned him!” He laughs even louder, then adds, “I thought he was going to have a heart attack!”
Their leader’s expression becomes serious for a moment, “I detest backstabbing politicians more than anything else.”
Pavel is still reeling at his reaction, and expected him to be angry with them. But when the other committee members started bickering and deflecting blame, the President dismissed them. It would seem that even though he and Igor kept him in the dark, he understands why, and respects them for it.
Igor lifts a glass to Pavel, who responds by lifting his own. Their leader lifts his as well, then offers a toast, “To Mother Russia!” All three men down the contents of their glasses, then slam them upside down on the table.
A few minutes later, Pavel picks up and fills their glasses once more, then lifts his high in the air. With a wavering hand and a drunken grin, he toasts. “To the Kliper. May she last longer than the Liberty.”
The three men drink long into the night. They discuss Russia’s place as a world power, and of having their own settlement on New Earth. They talk of claiming an entire world, but reluctantly agree that a collaborative effort on one world is a more sensible step.
Location:
Starship Terran
Docked beneath Space Station Unity
Earth
Peter whistles happily while he checks his backpack. Even though he is officially retired, he has received orders to report to Minsk for further instruction. He shrugs his shoulders subconsciously, no one ever really quits being an agent for the Central Committee. He has no doubt that he will be permitted, if not expected, to remain on the Terran. He suddenly stops, and stares at the piece of fishing line he cut from the tree on New Earth. Pausing, he recalls how difficult the line was to cut, and the fact that it was found close to what could have been an old shelter. Then, there was the old rusty nail that was almost fully overgrown by a tree root. He puts the line in his pocket, to take with him for further examination.
Emma steps into the room behind him, puts her hands on her hips and says, “Going somewhere?” The question comes out as more of an accusation than a question.
Peter turns, grins, and says, “Don’t worry. We’re not going off on some combat mission.”
>
Emma’s eyes narrow, then she says sulkily, “Would you even tell me if you were?”
“Yes, I would,” he replies with conviction.
She nods her head and thinks, he probably would. Emma stares at the man she has fallen for. I hardly know anything about him, she ponders, then sighs, but that is part of his charm, she admits to herself. She shakes her head and says, “I am just worried that one of these days you will disappear. One day you’re Peter, the next you’re Petrovich. How could you even live like that?”
Peter’s expression softens as he replies, “You know who I am, and what I used to do.”
“Used to do?” She says with raised eyebrows as she turns her gaze to his backpack. Turning to face her man, she adds, “And yet you must still report to...” she leaves the sentence unfinished as she shrugs her shoulders.
Peter chuckles, then says, “Yes. But if Radclyf, Hayato, and I get our way, we won’t be reporting to anyone on Earth for much longer.”
“Ha!” She says vigorously, “I knew you guys were up to something. I just hope it’s not some dangerous mission, like last time.”
His grin widens, then he replies, “I already said it wasn’t.” He stares at Emma and adds, “I will say that John is going to be very busy ferrying people around.”
Emma’s eyes narrow, but she knows better than to press him any further.
Location:
10 Downing Street
Westminster, United Kingdom
Radclyf stands at attention before the nine men and two women seated around a large table. His full dress uniform is in pristine condition and adorned with various medals.
Those seated are all reading a single page of paper and shaking their heads. One of the cabinet ministers, a particularly chubby man, stands. He gazes at his colleagues for moral support, tucks his thumbs into his cardigan, and turns to Radclyf. With disdain heavy in his voice he says, “You’re gone for over a year, and all you can give us is this one page report?”
Radclyf places his hands behind his back and remains silent. His eyes stare directly ahead and focus on nothing.
The chubby man paces behind his chair, then in exasperation says, “Will you say something!”
Radclyf turns his gaze to the man, then says coldly, “The mission was a success. We did not meet any hostile forces. The colony’s defenses are in place, as are those on the Terran.”
“I have read the report,” the minister replies in annoyance as he motions to the single page. He stares at Radclyf for a moment, then says, “Why did we even bother sending you?”
“To get rid of me, Sir,” Radclyf replies blandly.
The chubby man did not expect that answer and swallows nervously at the blunt reply. He then mumbles, “Yes, quite right.”
Radclyf salutes, then says, “I will report back to the Terran, for its next mission.” He turns, then strides out of the room, leaving the group of people spluttering and stammering at his brazen exit.
“Hey, come back,” calls out the chubby man, “We’ve not finished with you.”
Radclyf continues walking, a wide smile fills his face. He chuckles as he replies, “Oh yes you have. I am resigning my commission, effective immediately.”
The group in the room is stunned into silence. Radclyf’s response is not out of disloyalty to his country; on the contrary, he would die for England, but he is tired of the political games. Being on the Terran has given him a new respect for humanity as a whole. No one on the ship cares where you are from. There are more important concerns than the petty disputes that are waged in the many meeting rooms around the world.
Radclyf reflects on how close he, Hayato, and the others, have become. The three independent combat teams have discussed their respective futures at length. He steps outside, stops, and turns his gaze to watch the cloudy skies. Within minutes John arrives with a shuttle to pick him up.
Location:
Riken Institute, Kobe
Japan
Hayato hands over his one page report to his superior, Minoru, a grey haired colonel. The report is identical to Radclyf’s in every detail. He salutes, then waits patiently. He does not have to wait long.
“Hayato!” Screams the colonel as he turns the page over in his hand. “Is this some sort of joke?” He demands as he stares at the page with its few paragraphs of text.
“No Sir,” Hayato responds in an even tone as he stares directly ahead.
“But one page!” Minoru retorts angrily.
“Yes Sir.”
“This pathetic excuse of a report will probably see you dismissed from service.” The colonel says in disdain.
Hayato turns his gaze to his superior, takes off his jacket, and then says, “So be it.” He bows, then adds respectfully, “My resignation is already on your desk, Sir.”
Hayato smiles as he leaves the room. This outcome was already determined weeks ago when he and Radclyf decided that if they were to continue working together, that their national uniforms were obsolete. Selecting who would be in charge has been a tougher debate, and one that has not been fully resolved.
Minoru’s jaw opens and closes as he stares blankly at Hayato’s back. Words fail to come to mind. He wonders what has just happened. He hurries to his desk and finds not one, but two, resignations. He gazes upward at the ceiling as his thoughts drift to the Terran in orbit. Shaking his head in disbelief he says to himself, “Both Hayato, and Chokichi. What is going on up there?” He ponders for a long time about what could prompt the two loyal men to resign so abruptly.
Location:
Outback
Western Australia
The days slowly blend together as shuttles travel to and from the Terran, ferrying crew members back and forth. However when it comes to the bridge crew, John is always on hand to provide his piloting skills. He has been particularly busy with George, but does not mind at all.
The construction facility’s cafeteria is fairly busy these days. Many crew members discuss whether or not they will stay on for whatever comes next. The generous paychecks are one incentive, while for others, just being on the Terran is reason enough.
George stares at a sealed envelope that rests on the table. His heart races with excitement at what he expects to find. He glances around the mess hall, which is occupied by easily seventy people, many from the Terran. He smiles and nods in response to those that acknowledge him. He is almost embarrassed as it seems that everyone knows him, and yet he knows so few.
Lisa and Johnny step into the room, stop, then look around, searching. The second Lisa spots George, she smiles, then hurries to him. George sees her, smiles, stands, and hurries toward his family. The second they meet he hugs his wife, then ruffles their son’s hair. Johnny’s eyes are glued to the envelope that rests on the table. The words ‘European Space Training Academy’ are boldly emblazoned across its front.
George grins, sits down, and says, “I have spoken to just about every politician, and military commander I could find, and I have some fantastic news.”
Lisa glances at the envelope, then sits down as well. She says, with a little exasperation building in her voice, “Well, out with it then.”
Her husband’s grin expands as he replies, “I can stay on Earth and will use the suit to help build the fleet of spacecraft.”
Lisa’s face brightens, “I don’t believe it. I was sure they would somehow force you to stay on the Terran and go on that mission.”
George replies, “Well, even though Cindy wants me on board, she did not press the matter.” He adds enthusiastically, “I also get my own personal shuttle, to travel to and from home and,” He looks at Johnny, then continues, “I was also able to push your application to the Space Command.”
Johnny’s jaw drops, he has done nothing but rant and rave about his desire to be on the bridge of the Terran, or any spaceship for that matter. George ceremoniously opens the envelope, then reads, “Johnny Stanton’s application has been accepted and successfully moved forward to the selectio
n committee.” George’s smile freezes, then fades, as he reads on, “existing crew of the Terran will continue to receive priority placement over non crewmembers, as has been corporate policy from the program’s inception.”
Lisa and George glance at each other apprehensively, then George quickly reads, “As a consequence Johnny’s application is on hold, pending an available opening at the Space Training Academy. We thank you for your interest.”
George does not read the last few lines, but stares at Lisa blankly.
Johnny slowly asks, “What does that mean, Dad?”
A single tear falls down Lisa’s face as George responds, “They got to me son, that’s what it means.” He sighs, then puts a hand to his jaw, “Damn, they found a way.”
Johnny glances at his parents warily. With concern in his voice he asks, “Why are you crying mom?”
Lisa blinks away any further tears, brushes her long dark hair back, then says resolutely, “You’re going to the academy! Now run off and let me have some time with your father.”
Johnny steps away from the table, and though he should be ecstatic about going, the way his parents are behaving bothers him. He leaves the table so they can talk. If there is one thing that he has learned, it is that he does not want to be part of whatever they are discussing. He glances back, frowns in confusion, then leaves the cafeteria.
George’s lips quiver as his feelings threaten to overcome him. He stares at his wife and states more than asks, “Why didn’t I see this coming?”
Lisa slowly shakes her head, takes a deep breath, then says, “We want the best for our son, and we will do whatever it takes to see that he gets every opportunity he can.”
George meets her unyielding gaze, then finally lowers his eyes. Once she has made up her mind, there is no changing it.
Lisa adds, “I will stay here while you go off, again! I won’t be a distraction to you this time.”
Alliance (Terran Chronicles Book 4) Page 4