His eyes narrowed. “What?”
She tried her best to look innocent. “Nothing.”
He drew her closer against him. “It’s not nothing…but since you’re smiling, I’ll just go with it.”
She responded by kissing the corner of his mouth and snuggling into the crook of his arm.
They lay there in silence for several minutes, and in truth she might have begun to drift off when he shifted beneath her. She blinked awake and covered any drowsiness by dancing fingertips along the curly hair trailing down his abdomen to his navel.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Since we’re hanging out here not sleeping, mind if I ask you something random?”
“Hmm? Sure.” She propped her chin on his chest to be able to catch his gaze.
“The name of your ship. I’ve run it through every Russian dialect and half a dozen other languages and encyclopedia compendiums, but no matches. And I was…wondering.”
She laughed and scooted up onto one elbow. “It wouldn’t match anything.”
One side of her mouth curled up of its own volition. “So the story goes—I was three years old, far too young to remember it with any clarity—my dad and I were stargazing in the backyard one night. I babbled away, asking dozens of wacky questions only a child could think of about the stars and ships and what space was like. He was humoring me, like he always did.
“And I uttered some nonsensical proclamation like, ‘One day I’m gonna be a star.’ And he…he hugged me and said, ‘Na den’ vy siyat’ s snova siyaniye chem vse svetilo v nebesnyy nebesa,’ which roughly means, ‘One day you will shine with more radiance than every star in the celestial heavens.’”
He chuckled. “Quite a mouthful for a little girl.”
“I know, right? He had a definite flair for the dramatic. I understood ‘na den’ vy,’ common words and all, but I’d never heard the rest before and didn’t yet have a full eVi with a translator. I looked up at him, my face scrunched up in a child’s perplexity, and tried to repeat it. But I stumbled over the ‘vs’ and ‘sv’ phonetics, since English doesn’t often use them. I garbled out ‘siya…ssn…niye…v nebe…ne…,’ stopped, went back and tried again and still totally mangled it.
“Finally I stared at him in desperation and whispered, ‘siya-…ne-…?’ then waited for him to fill in the rest. He laughed, hugged me tighter and said, ‘Siyane is perfect, sweetheart. My little star shining brightly.’”
She swallowed away the lump in her throat. “And it sort of became his pet name for me. He didn’t use it a lot, but whenever he was acting particularly affectionate or melodramatic he’d whip it out for added impact.”
She shrugged in his arms. “So I guess the best way to put it is…the name represents an affirmation that I’m trying to live up to his belief in what I could be.”
He pulled her yet closer, careful not to press on her wounds, and kissed the top of her head. She wished she was able to see his expression, but he held her securely against him.
“I’d wager if he were here, he’d say you’re doing a hell of a lot more than trying.”
“In fact…” his embrace loosened “…that’s what it is, isn’t it?”
“What’s what?”
“What you do.”
She regarded him curiously. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“How you find things others cannot. How you somehow knew the TLF wave wasn’t coming from the pulsar, and discovered its origin point. How you stared into space and saw where to find a tiny, cold, silent star buried deep within nebular clouds.”
She bit her lower lip, her gaze drifting away from him. After a moment she rested her head on his chest. “It’s not magic or anything. It’s simply…the universe has rules. Even the exceptions obey the rules. Though so immensely complex it appears to most like chaos, in truth the universe is ordered and structured and perfect.
“More than that, I understand the structure. It makes sense to me. I look out into the void and I see the interconnections and relationships—the gravitational pull of a supergiant subtly tugging at a stellar system kiloparsecs away, the excess glow along the edges of ionized gas as it collides with an H I region, the absence which marks a dark star or a gray hole.”
His hand wound leisurely through her hair, reassuring her she wasn’t crazy, encouraging her to continue. “And since I understand the way things must be, when something seems out of place, wrong or merely odd…I can recognize the reality of it. The hidden object or event or force which brings space back into alignment with the rules of the universe.”
She lifted her head to crinkle her nose up at him. “But I don’t get what any of this has to do with the name of my ship.”
He brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “When we were at the center of Metis and you were looking for the pulsar’s companion, you stared out the viewport and whispered, ‘Come on you little star, shine for me.’”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I don’t…. Well, I suppose it does kind of feel as though that’s what happens, but…. Even if it’s true, the stars do the shining. Not me.”
He drew her up his body until his lips met hers. They were soft and gentle, like the ocean breeze on a rare warm Pacifica summer afternoon. She’d never imagined a man capable of such violence, of such intensity, could also be capable of the extraordinary tenderness he showed toward her.
He pulled back a fraction to meet her eyes and gaze into her soul. “Are you sure?”
77 Earth
Vancouver, EASC Headquarters
Miriam did all her staring in disbelieving horror at the unimaginable landscape of destruction from the transport as it circled twice overhead.
She had seen destruction before. During the First Crux War she had witnessed firsthand the aftermath of more than one battle. But that war had never come close to reaching Earth. To reaching home. This, though…she had spent the last fourteen years of her life working in the building which now lay crumbled in smoldering ruins.
By the time she stepped off the transport she was instructing on-scene EASC staff who were ambulatory to meet in the primary conference room in Administration in twenty minutes and generating a queue for the intervening minutes.
She used the limited moments to review the updated list of deceased and missing and set up a routine to customize the condolence notifications. Next she tracked down the head of emergency response and received a personal status report, implemented additional security measures beyond the hastily erected checkpoints, and lastly located Richard and give him a quick, and private, hug.
Now she stood at the front of the conference room and regarded the gathered staff members. Many were covered in dust and debris and several still bore streaks of blood.
She gave the room a genuinely sympathetic smile, an expression most had never seen from her. “I won’t take much of your time. I recognize you have a great many things you want and need to do. I imagine for some of you this includes helping in the rescue efforts—but we have emergency responders from the entire Cascades region on-scene, so I ask you to let them do their jobs and instead focus on helping to restore order.
“For those of you who had offices in the Headquarters building, we will be taking over the 14th–20th floors of the Logistics building for the immediate future. This means most of you will have to double-up. It’s a necessary and hopefully temporary situation. Submit your request to this address—” she sent the new account to the staff “—and you will receive a space assignment.”
She paused, pursing her lips for a breath. “Take what time you need to recover your files and anything else you’re able to salvage, but unfortunately there is still a war going on—and make no mistake, our adversary will be all too happy to take advantage of our distraction in the aftermath of the attack. Therefore, I must ask you to return to your regular duties as soon as you are capable of doing so. We have doubtlessly lost a number of good people and good friends to
day, but we cannot allow this to make us weak. It’s what the enemy wants. Instead, let it make us stronger.
“Things are bound to be a bit chaotic for the next few days. Route any problems or special requests to the ‘issues’ queue at the same address. Also, please monitor the news updates at the address. Important information, changes and new procedures will be posted there.”
She nodded sharply. “That’s everything for now. Let’s get to work.”
As they began to disperse she grabbed her bottle of water and quickly exited. She did not have the time to entertain questions or desperate inquiries regarding loved ones. The fatalities list was available for everyone to examine and she possessed no further information. Many of them would require comfort and that above all was something she could not provide.
In front of an audience she managed to perform well enough; one-on-one, gazing into broken eyes, however…. In the long run comfort was a hollow, shallow lie, and she simply couldn’t find the will to pretend otherwise.
She headed down the hall toward her next meeting, with the military police commander. It would be followed by meetings with the admin managerial staff, the transport supervisors, preliminary planning with the maintenance and construction chief, another update from the head of emergency response, and the first of what was certain to be numerous press conferences.
She wouldn’t be seeing a bed for quite some time.
Some five hours later she snuck away for a moment of respite in the small gardens between Administration and Logistics. The thermos of coffee warmed her hands and the optic fibers embedded in the pavement lit the path beneath her feet against the late night darkness, though the glare from the enormous floodlights placed by the rescue crews added a sallow glow to the sky.
The death toll already stood at upwards of two thousand and was likely to double by the morning. While rescue efforts continued, the simple fact was the detonations had been scorching and violent. The few who survived the initial blasts had found themselves with no way down or out before the fire or the pervasive smoke reached them.
Even five thousand dead represented a mere blip on the scale of historic disasters. But these were the best, the most dedicated and patriotic of humanity. They were also the people essential to managing the bureaucratic intricacies of fighting a war. An indelicate and unfortunate reality.
Thousands upon thousands of troops needed to be moved around, assigned in a strategic yet orderly fashion and supplied with millions of munitions and foodstuffs and bunks. Important assets needed to be protected while blind spots minimized. Every person and resource needed to be utilized in an efficient and optimized manner.
War was a complicated affair when spread across the galaxy; it always had been. This she knew all too well.
* * *
“Director of Logistics for the entire North American Region? Miri, that’s wonderful.”
The moonlight shone through the window to transform his beautiful eyes to liquid silver as he grinned at her. She lay facing him in the bed, snuggled up so close their noses almost touched. “Maybe.”
“With a war on it will be an enormous responsibility and even more work….”
She frowned. “You don’t think I can do it?”
“Naoborot dushen’ka, I think you will be spectacular at it. If I possessed your brilliant mind I might get to stay on Earth in a prestigious job, too.”
“Don’t even start with that, David. They’re not giving you command of a cruiser because of your looks—” his mouth turned down in a playful pout “—they could, of course, but it would make for a poor war strategy.”
She kissed the pout away then rolled onto her back to stare at the ceiling. “I’m not sure I’m going to accept. I don’t want to send you out into the middle of the war while I get to remain comfortable and cozy in our home. I should be fighting as well.”
He propped up on an elbow to catch and hold her gaze. “You will be. If you don’t do this job correctly, the whole damn operation falls apart. And besides…it would give me so much peace of mind while I’m out there to know you’re safe.”
“But David—”
“Hush. I realize I’m being overprotective—I don’t care. And you’ll be here for Alex, which will make me very, very happy. She needs you.”
“Perhaps, but she wants you.”
“Miri….”
“I know, I know…I’m glad you’re her favorite, honestly. You’re my favorite, too, so it shows good judgment on her part.”
She exhaled quietly. “Okay. If you’re so certain it’s the right choice, I’ll take the position.” She shifted to face him once more and run a hand through his hair. “But you better come back to me, you understand?”
He smiled against her lips. “I will. I promise.”
* * *
He had not kept his promise. But David had been right in at least one respect—she had excelled at the job. Now she oversaw logistics for the entirety of the Alliance military, and it wasn’t her sole responsibility.
But she had just lost a significant percentage of the people who made it happen. She’d give it another full day, then start a recruitment search, keeping the hiring standards as strict as possible but—
Startled, she spun at the sound of approaching footsteps. Richard hurried along the path toward her. Figures…he’d be the only one to know where to find her, after all.
“Richard, you look terrible. You really should get some rest, or at least take a shower. I’m assuming you have let a medic take a look at you.”
“Later.” He reached her and came to a stop, at which point she saw the expression on his face.
“Is something wrong? What happened?”
“We may have a problem. I think you need to see this.”
78 Earth
London, Earth Alliance Assembly
Every Alliance news feed and most of the Senecan and independent feeds carried the open session of the Earth Alliance Assembly live. Some fourteen billion people stopped what they were doing to watch, likely sensing an event of import was on the horizon.
The Assembly met in the historic Palace of Westminster. It had been gutted nearly two centuries earlier, its foundation restructured to prevent it from sinking into the Thames then redesigned from the ground up to house a single congressional body and support the essentials of the modern world.
What once had been the Central Hall now formed the core of the Assembly Chamber, an enormous fan-shaped auditorium modeled after the old U.S. Congress—the justification being semicircle seating provided closer vantage points for a greater number of people than the rectangular arrangement of the former British Parliament. Homage had been paid to the original styling in numerous ways, however, from dark oak beams adorning the ceiling to brass accents gilding the doorways and classic fresco paintings decorating the walls.
The Majority Leader of the Assembly, Charles Gagnon, took the podium as the Secretary gaveled the session to order. In other circumstances it might have been the Speaker at the podium, but in the current situation such an act would have appeared unseemly and transparently self-serving.
Gagnon’s gaze moved with deliberate attention across the cavernous chamber. “Ladies and Gentlemen, Senators and honored guests. I come before you now in this dark moment for the Alliance to raise a matter I never wished were required.
“A few short hours ago we experienced a horrific loss in the terroristic bombing of Strategic Command Headquarters. The enemy struck at the very heart of our leadership structure, killing not only the Chairman of Strategic Command and three of its Board members but over 4,500 of our brave fighting men and women. Men and women who had committed their lives to keeping the Alliance and its citizens safe and secure.
“While emergency responders were still pulling the dead and injured out of the rubble, ships from Northwestern Regional Command were ambushed by Senecan forces while on patrol, the victims of cowardly mining of an asteroid field. They suffered devastating losses which could have been�
��should have been—avoided.”
He paused to sigh with dramatic flair. “The grim but undeniable fact is, Alliance governance now lies in chaos—within the military and within the administration. These latest events confirm something many of us had already begun to recognize. Prime Minister Brennon is not prepared to lead us in a time of war.”
A low rumble rippled through the chamber; he waited for it to subside before continuing.
“An ill-advised Trade Summit led to the tragic assassination of Mangele Santiagar. Anemic defenses on one of our most important Alliance worlds led to the annihilation of the Forward Naval Base on Arcadia. An inexcusable security lapse allowed high-powered explosives to be smuggled into EASC Headquarters, resulting in the death of thousands and the destruction of Strategic Command.
“This morning, the Prime Minister issued an executive order appropriating significant production outlays from a number of large Alliance-friendly corporations. Though it pales in comparison to so much loss of life, this move suggests he views this war fundamentally as an opportunity for a power grab rather than the grave threat it is.
“In these events and more, the Prime Minister has proven himself utterly incapable of responding to the realities of war. Nor can he provide the leadership necessary to drive us to victory over the rebels calling themselves a ‘federation.’”
He nodded, as if he had only now convinced himself of the necessity of his action. “Therefore, I find I have no choice but to call for a vote of no confidence in Prime Minister Brennon and his administration. Let us adopt new leadership while there is still time to ensure the Alliance remains strong and unbowed. Mr. Secretary, I submit Special Assembly Resolution SGR 2322-3174 for an official vote.”
The thin young man in black formal attire nodded and loaded the resolution into the Assembly voting system.
Perhaps cognizant the galaxy was watching, the vote went swiftly for 510 politicians. Four minutes later the vote tally flashed on the oversized screen floating high above the chamber. A low cheer erupted in the chamber, the dissonant contrast of boos echoing beneath it.
Rogue Stars Page 119
