by M. D. Cooper
“Consider it signed,” Winter said.
Ranstock sat up a bit straighter, and Grayson could see she was clearly vexed. “You don’t have the authority to do that, Winter. Chimin’s a democracy; you weren’t voted in.”
Grayson shrugged. “He has the support of the people. For now, that’s good enough until we can get an official election underway. The elected governor will need to ratify it, as well.”
Ranstock sighed and visibly deflated in front of them. “You’re not here to negotiate anything, are you, Colonel? You’re here to tell us what to do. For the good of Silstrand.”
Grayson shrugged. “So far as I can see, we want the same things, you and I. You brought aid and supplies to Chimin, as did we. Silstrand wants to get the Hanoi System back on its feet and take out these Papote and Revolution terrorists whose goal is to harm humans and destroy AIs. We can work together, but you’re going to need to have the Coalesce Legion sign a treaty with the Alliance…we’ll have to figure out how to fold you into Silstrand…maybe as a local militia of sorts.”
Ranstock’s eyebrow raised, and her lips pressed together even more tightly. “You’ll just absorb us into your collective government, is that it?”
“We’ll work together. You’ll still be an independent people, an independent fleet, but operating under the terms of the accord. I can have Alice send further documents over to you for your review. No need to sign it right away, I’ll be in the system for a while yet.”
Ranstock’s jaw tensed. “Do that.” She slid her chair backward and pushed herself up. “But a word of warning. You’ll not get Battia to join Silstrand, no matter who you are, no matter whose authority you are here under. There’s no way that dictatorial woman will agree to anything that even hints at lessening her sovereign right to rule the way she wishes. The only reason she even gave lip service to Peter Rhoads was because of what he did to Hubei.”
Grayson nodded, understanding that he had a lot more research to do on Battia. “Thank you for your cooperation and for your warning. I’ll go in with both eyes open.”
Alice reported to the group.
Ranstock rose and slowly backed away from the table before walking, spine rigid, toward the exit. Grayson breathed a sigh of relief that the meeting had gone a bit easier than he’d expected. He sank a bit lower in his seat and enjoyed some more of the hot coffee. It was better than military issue and much better than he was used to in Kylie’s galley.
“Damn, you enjoyed that.” Winter reached for the carafe and topped off his cup. He offered more to Grayson, who readily accepted it, then blew the steam off the coffee before answering.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Winter chuckled. “I enjoyed watching it, too, much as I hate to admit liking anything the SSF might do. Maybe this will keep her from breathing down my neck for a while.”
Stars, Chimin really is in a sorry state, if Winter is the only one who stepped up for the job.
Grayson hoped it would afford Winter more room to maneuver. As much as he hated to admit it, Winter might actually be the best man for the job—at least for now.
“Keep an eye on her. She’ll be a slippery one for sure,” Grayson said.
Winter nodded. “What’s next?”
Grayson took another sip of his coffee. “I’d like to talk to some local heads—make sure you really do have the support of those on Chimin, but I’m expecting it to be a formality. After that, I’ll explain the accord and hope you’ll sign it. It might take a while for an official election to take place here. The real question I have for you is how long can I expect you to stay here?”
Winter thought about it with a shake of his head. “I don’t know, man. I haven’t given much of anything beyond raw survival a lot of thought. Getting these people through. I don’t want this job half-assed, and I’m not comfortable walking away until it’s finished.” He paused as he considered his decision. “I guess I’ll stay long as I have to. And not a moment longer.”
Grayson could accept that answer, even found he respected Winter for it. “Wonderful. Let’s get moving, and I’ll send word for the Polis Fury to ready some fresh food to be brought down. The more time we can buy these people, the better.”
“Great.” Winter stood and showed Grayson to the exit, then walked side-by-side with him through the hall. “Then maybe you can explain why your ship has a stupid-ass name like the ‘Polis Fury’.”
“I kind of like it,” Grayson said, feeling rather insulted.
Winter laughed and slapped him on the back. “You would.”
“It means ‘The People’s Fury’, loosely translated.”
“Sounds like penis to me.”
“Shut up, Winter.”
* * * * *
Grayson had shaken enough hands that he was starting to feel like he was running for office. Emergency crew workers, farmers, miners, the woman who ran the servitor repair shop, everyone seemed thrilled to have help arrive—even if it meant a military organization that they hadn’t at all trusted in the past.
It was good for relations, Grayson thought, for him to put a face on the SSF in a system so far from Silstrand. Maureen and her squad were helping out, as well, currently assisting with the final work on the central lift shaft.
Those on the Fringe often felt as if they weren’t thought of, and while it was unfortunate, it was mostly true. The reality of the situation was that the SSF couldn’t be everywhere at once—and systems this far outside the Alliance’s borders were all but on their own.
Visiting the hospital was the most somber of moments. Grayson met sick and injured men, women, and children who hadn’t left their beds in several weeks. He handed a teddy bear in an SSF uniform to one of the kids and watched her face light up with happiness.
“Is that standard issue?” Winter asked.
Grayson smirked. “Oh, of course. All Silstrand teddy bears wear this uniform.”
The little girl laughed, showing off her two missing front teeth as she bounced her teddy bear around. “I’m going to name him Kylie! After the hero of Chimin!”
Well, isn’t that something. The declaration caught Grayson off guard, but he forced a quick smile. “I’m a good friend of Kylie Rhoads’, did you know that?”
The little girl shook her head, and Winter rolled his eyes. “You’re already on her good side, man. Don’t push it.”
“Did I hear Kylie’s name?”
Grayson turned around and saw a woman approaching the door. She held a walking stick and reached for the doorframe with her other hand. Clearly, the woman was blind. He recognized her from Kylie’s reports as Doctor Grace.
He met her at the door as he excused himself from the room. The little girl was playing with her teddy bear and didn’t seem to notice as he introduced himself to the doctor.
“Colonel Grayson of the SSF Polis Fury.”
Grace glanced just to his left and then to his right. “Winter, I know you’re in there, too. Say something before I hit you with my cane.”
Winter sighed. “Right here, Grace.”
“Good.” She smirked. “If I have you to thank for all those medical supplies and the extra hands, I’m forever in your debt, Colonel.”
“Don’t even think of it. Happy to do what we can to help.”
“Careful what you say to a blind woman, recent or not. I hear that slightly insincere tone in your voice. You want something.”
What Grayson wanted was to suggest that the ship’s medbay could repair her eyes, but Winter had warned him that it was a sensitive subject with the doctor.
“Everyone does,” he said amiably. “Doesn’t mean I’m not happy to lend a hand or part with some supplies. The future of Chimin is important, not just to you, but to Silstrand, as well.”
“Hmm, that I do believe. Well….” Grace paused for a moment, then said, “Hungry? I’ll show you and Winter to the break
room. Maybe you can tell me a bit more about Kylie. She was an enigma, yet she fought hard for all of us. I’d love to hear a bit more about what she’s like.”
Grayson snorted as he followed Grace out into the hall. “I hope you have enough time.”
“Colonel, I’m a blind doctor on an asteroid floating through the ass-end of space. I have all the time in the world.”
* * * * *
Doctor Quxa reported in first,
While he had found that most did support Winter in his role as quasi-governor, there was an underlying tension amongst some of the workers. It wasn’t Winter’s fault—he was doing the best job he could with limited resources. But Grayson wanted to change that around and cut off any festering resentment before it turned into something worse.
Once Grayson’s conversation with Maureen and Doctor Quxa was done, he turned his attention back to Winter, who sat drumming his fingers on the table, a look of impatience on his face.
“Sorry,” Grayson apologized.
“Figured you’re ordering around all your lackeys.” Winter shrugged then paused for a few moments. “Hey, so. where do I fall in the mix?”
“More of a…peon, I suppose.”
Winter raised his eyebrows. “Well, isn’t that awesome.”
“Good news,” Grayson said to change the subject. “Most of the people on this rock favor your leadership—will wonders never cease.”
Winter clapped his hands together. “So, I get to sign the accord? Show me the plas.”
Grayson sighed. “First, let’s go over it so you at least know what you’re signing.”
“All right, all right. If I have to.”
With Battia on board, Grayson could secure supplies—non bug-infested ones—for Chimin and get them in the clear. He was hopeful that he could have the Hanoi System signed on to the Scipio Alliance as members of Silstrand before the rest of the fleet arrived—but one thing was still troubling him.
BEHIND ENEMY LINES
STELLAR DATE: 12.17.8948 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Good Eats, Chimin-1
REGION: Chimin Asteroid Group, Hanoi System (independent)
Lana caught up with Captain Ranstock in Good Eats, one of the cafeteria-style eateries on Chimin, not far from the old brewery. Everyone had to eat, even Ranstock, and Lana had figured it was only a matter of time before the woman would show up there.
Tucking her hair behind her ears, Lana ambled over to the ration line. She picked up a tray and followed the captain’s movements, heading for a scoop of plain white rice and a broiled chicken thigh. As Ranstock picked up her plate, she turned, her gaze slipping past Lana. Without a pause, the captain walked straight toward an empty table nearby.
Lana grabbed her plate of chicken and waited a few seconds before following over. “Is this seat taken?”
Ranstock hadn’t started eating her meal yet—she appeared to be staring pensively at the food—and looked up with a jerk of her head when Lana spoke. “I suppose not.”
“Do you mind?” Lana asked, trying to be polite.
“Would you care if I did?”
Lana knew what she didn’t care for: the woman’s answer. She tilted her hips and frowned uncertainly, her movements eliciting a sigh from Ranstock.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know where my manners are. Please, sit down. It’s nice to see a friendly face.”
“Rough day, huh? I know all about rough, trust me.” Lana sat down and picked up her spork, placing her napkin on her lap. She’d decided to lace as many truths into her cover as she could, and gave Ranstock a bit of her backstory. “My dad’s a real hard-case. He’d always be barking orders at me. Nothing I ever did was good enough. That’s why I came over from Geonova when I heard they needed help here.”
“I know all about hard-case parents. I wasn’t raised here, but I was born here—well, in the Hanoi System, not Chimin. I thought it’d be nice to come back and try to make a difference. Seems no one cares what I have to say or that I really just want to help.” Ranstock spooned a helping of rice into her mouth, keeping her head down.
“They should be nicer to you. You brought supplies, and I heard that you sent one of your ships for more. Anyone that wants to help….”
Ranstock silently regarded her as she spoke. “What brings you here?” She asked finally, eyeing Lana with a mixture of suspicion and interest.
Lana shrugged and fluffed her sticky rice with her fork. “Duty, I guess. To prove to people I’m not the same scared young woman they remember. I’ve changed, and I can help. I can be serious. Do a good job. You think they’ll buy that?”
“Only if you buy it yourself.” Ranstock picked up her cup of water. “Do you? Believe in yourself, that is.”
Lana shrugged. “I guess. I thought I could, and then I came here. Things are really bleak. Is it stupid to think we can turn Chimin around?”
“Not stupid.” Ranstock leaned forward. “Just like everything else, we’ll fake it until we make it. That’s what my guardian always told me. A good man, and he was right; it did work. Maybe it’ll work here, too.”
Maybe. It sounded nice at the very least, and Lana thought it was good advice. She cut off a piece of her chicken with her knife and popped it into her mouth. “What were you faking?”
Ranstock smirked, and Lana wondered if she’d gotten everything out of the woman that she was going to—at least in the short-term. “Nothing so easy that I can put into words. If you’ll excuse me, Lana. As pleasant as this is, I need to check in with my ships.”
“Oh,” Lana feigned surprise. “OK, sure. Are you leaving Chimin soon?”
“Not yet. There’s still that ship coming back with supplies. I’m also waiting for some paperwork I signed to be ratified. Once that happens, though, unless I find a reason to stay, I’ll have no choice but to go. Nice meeting you.” Ranstock stood from her bench and picked up her tray of food, then set it down at a table where a woman sat with a group of children who had eaten all their food and still looked ravenous.
However, back at her seat, Ranstock had left behind the spork that she had used to eat her rice. Lana picked it up carefully and placed it in a small evidence bag. She felt a little guilty about spying on the Coalesce leader and forcing a friendship, but it was a mission, just like any other.
Were she to be honest with herself, Lana was happy to get any mission. She’d do anything to prove her importance not just to Winter or Grayson, but to herself.
* * * * *
Lana sat perched on the edge of a table in the hospital’s lab, waiting impatiently for the DNA results. Grace was present, as well as Doctor Quxa from the Polis Fury. B
eing blind, there wasn’t much Grace could do in her old ER position, but she liked to busy herself with supervisory work across the hospital.
It didn’t make sense to Lana that the doctor hadn’t had her eyes replaced. Though the hospital was poorly stocked, there had to be modders on Chimin with a spare set of peepers. The Polis Fury would certainly be able to give her a new set in under a day.
She’d considered raising the question, but realized that others must have brought it up already, and Grace was still blind.
Stars, people are weird.
The initial tests that Grace and Quxa had run came back identifying Ranstock as exactly who she said she was—in the local databases, at least. However, the SSF doctor had spotted an anomaly, and they had decided to run something Grace called a ‘full sequence’ on multiple samples.
“Well…” Quxa said after a few minutes. “Her DNA results are…mixed. Something more exotic than I’ve ever seen personally, though you wouldn’t know it by looking at her, that’s for sure. She could’ve had surgery to mask her looks. If so, it’s one of the most perfect procedures I’ve ever seen. I’ll run the results through the SSF database, see if we can get a match on who she might be. Or where she might hail from. Any ideas, based on your conversations with her?”
“It’s a splice-job for sure,” Grace added, apparently still able to use the Link to review data. “I’ve seen a few like it before. It would pass standard checks without issue; only if someone was specifically looking for a top-end falsified identity would you dig this deep.”
