by Jim Rudnick
So far, we all are, Tanner thought, so far ...
#####
"All right, Captain—what the hell is going on? I've been held up for over three hours with the jurors in their investigation, and it's obvious that they are looking at us—the RIM diplomatic team—as having something to do with this whole feather change issue. Since things have cooled down a fair bit, we've sent back our extra EliteGuard platoons and kept only the one squad of Provost Guards. The Enkians we see and meet are all grumbling under their breath but don't seem to be doing any sort of rioting or the like. We like that, of course. And the re-treatment of new food pellets has been successful, as the younglings now all have their feathered crests changed to their proper colorations. Still touchy though, we see, and that's annoying to say the least."
He half-smiled at Tanner before continuing. "We have been busy though as I've been asked to sit in on a host of interviewees, everyone from the leader of all five muses, both Militia and Resources sections, food handlers from manufacturers through to the Enkian who applied the chemical treatments, to truck drivers, caterers, and just about all of the Words Muse pyramid workers too. But what I want to know is—did we play any part in this?"
Ambassador Harmon was agitated, and as Tanner stood in front of his desk, he had only a few seconds to consider what to tell the man. He knew the office, as their Provost guards checked it daily, was un-bugged and clean. So anything he said would be for the ambassador only; the Enkians would never know.
Harmon must have been thinking the same thing as he said, "Room's clear, Captain, or so the Provost team said this morning. We borrow the offices, yes, from the Words Muse group, but we were told it was ours and would be kept that way."
Tanner nodded and then explained exactly what had happened in the past few weeks. He started with the threats from the Fine Arts Muse and their leader, Qig, who wanted the head juror position in tomorrow's election. He shared that he had made a deal, but he knew it would require he somehow keep the election's favored son, Uigoeri Qor, the head of the Words Muse, from winning. He also had known, he told the ambassador, that the best way to do that would have meant murder, and he couldn't do that. Tanner gave the ambassador the details of a plan he had hashed out with Bram, after more tours of the Resources had offered up a way to perhaps win that election for the Fine Arts Muse. They—well, Bram actually, as he could control Enkians quite easily—would simply fake the processing treatment of the big first dose of the chemicals that change Enkian feathers. The fault would lie wherever, but as the Words Muse was in charge, it meant that Qor would wear the issue like a badge of disappointment. Hence, they hoped that Qig would win the head juror's position, and that would mean the diplomatic mission would be successful. Enki would become a member of the RIM Confederacy, and the Xithricite metal would be available.
As he said that last bit, he leaned forward and placed that short Xithricite metal rod from the trip to the asteroid mine just yesterday on the ambassador's desk,.
Harmon leaned back, then forward to pick up the metal rod, and then back again. He stared at Tanner, then off into space for a moment, and then back at his captain.
"You've never considered a role in the diplomatic corps, have you, Captain? Because if you ever do, I'd be pleased to help you get a leg up immediately," he said, and he smiled at Tanner and then went on.
"You seemed to have found a way to circumvent—very nicely, I might add—the whole issue of getting rid of an election candidate. Bram was obviously successful; I hear nothing but grumbling about Words Muse all over the city, which should be reflected tomorrow during the election, and lastly, if it does not work, then we can simply claim later that Fine Arts Muse is at fault. At least we can try before they launch those cases against Words Muse," he said.
Tanner nodded. He hadn't thought that idea would have any merit, but one never knew.
"So, was I wrong in not taking you into my confidence, Ambassador?" he asked, his voice soft.
"Not at all, Captain. I fully believe in the strategy of 'need to know,' and I didn't need to then. Now, I'm aware and perhaps able to help too, if needs be. So far, though, all of this is hush-hush—classified, in fact. Who knows, Captain—the full list, please?"
Tanner nodded and had only three names, his, Bram's, and Kondo's.
Harmon nodded. "Few, that's good. And I trust as you're all crewmembers, you can count on their secrecy on this matter too. Am I correct, Captain?"
Tanner nodded.
"Good, so we're going to sit back and do nothing, agreed Captain?" he asked.
Tanner nodded, but he had one question. "Ambassador, you mentioned that there had been quite a long list of interviewees—is there a list?" he asked.
Harmon nodded and reached into one of his “In” Baskets on his desk, riffled through the pile, found the list, and then handed it to Tanner.
Tanner thanked him and took a quick scan. Yes, there was the name of Resources Officer Swanki, actual Enkian who Bram had made make the mistake on the food. So that meant that he had been interviewed. That meant that if there was no AI recording—and they had that knowledge that this was true—then the jurors would believe the chemical treatments had been done as ordered. So they'd move on and look to see if the treated foods were somehow substituted with untreated pellets. They'd follow the trail away from the actual point of origin, which was natural and would lead to no guilty parties. Tanner smiled to himself.
"Sir," Tanner said, "I should have keyed you into this a bit earlier—but it only happened last week, but that's not an excuse. While diplomacy is not my thing, this has been quite an experience, Ambassador," he said and saluted, spun on his heels, and then left the RIM offices.
#####
In the huge rotunda of the Words Muse pyramid, the election headquarters for the new leader of the jurors was being held. There were huge screens dropped down from above, showing returns from all over the capital city, all with the names of each of the candidates and their current vote totals. Every so often, one of the media services would appear on screen with an interview, an exit poll, or an issue out in the city with polling stations and the like. With only six candidates, interviews with the candidates weren't an issue as someone always wanted to say something.
"Polls close when, Lieutenant?" Tanner asked Lieutenant Irving, his Ansible officer on the bridge. She looked down at her console and said, "In about an hour, Sir," and she made some clicks on her keyboard.
On the huge view-screen on the bridge, the whole of the rotunda shifted as Irving moved the camera's point of view on the drone they were running in the space well above the crowds below. They were also providing the feed from their drone to the UrPoPo ship, the Caliphate ship, the Faraway ship, and via Ansible back to Juno too. Don't know, Tanner thought, if anyone is even watching back there, but the feed is going out for sure. The sidebar listed the feed as being up, streaming, and live. Further, he noted, the stage had been populated already with the other four jurors who were not leaving their positions. There were a few others there as well along with the leaders of each of the five muses. As Qig of Fine Arts Muse and Qor of Words Muse were both candidates, they were present but not very sociable at all. Didn't matter, Tanner thought, that one of them was probably the winner. He'd charged his Science officer, Lieutenant Commander Karl Sheldon, with the job of getting some kind of projections together for the election. He'd worked at it diligently and had put the report on his captain's desk just this morning. Two of the candidates ran every time; they were always also-rans, and they had no chance of even placing let alone winning. Then there were the two current leaders of Words Muse and Fine Arts Muse who were the front-runners. The final two candidates were outsiders, never having even been in the leadership of a muse, and they were the two dark horses in this election. Both were members of the Dance Muse, and both were the exact same as the other—they had come from what they pushed as a bonus for their fans, a twin-yolk egg. Twins, Tanner called them. They looked alike—of course, all En
kians looked very similar—but these two were like mirror images. Both tended to do a little swing step when they talked, but that was normal for Dance Muse citizens. Dark horses, indeed, Tanner thought. But the big two were Qig versus Qor—and he knew that was where the play would come from.
Ambassador Harmon, along with all of his diplomatic team, entered the rotunda led by some Words Muse pyramid workers, and they took their seats off to one side of the main stage. Filling up the bleachers were Enkians who Tanner figured had probably already voted, and they sat anywhere as no sections had been reserved up front. As he watched, some formed little cells of conversation, talking, laughing, arguing, and generally being social. Others sat quietly, somehow alone among thousands, and yet watching everything with an eagle eye.
"Polls close in ten minutes," a voice said over the whole rotunda.
Automatic polling AI, it appeared, looked after the polls themselves, but Tanner wasn't really sure. Automation didn't really exist on Enki, at least to a level that he was both familiar and comfortable with at this point. Ten minutes 'til we find out whether or not our subterfuge worked, he thought, and as he looked to his right to Bram, sitting in the bridge Adept Officer chair, he got a nod back. He glanced at the view-screen again and told his Ansible officer to ensure she got coverage of whatever was happening on the stage and to feed the content from the huge screen in the rotunda to their sidebar display as well.
Moments later, there was an announcement that the polls had just closed and tabulations would now ensue, followed by a triple chime of bells.
Wonder how long that'll take, he thought, and just as he thought that, the Atlas sidebar showed some returns.
With only seventeen percent of polls reporting, the Fine Arts Muse leader, Eecesoe Qig, had taken a small lead over the Words Muse leader, Uigoeri Qor, with the twins holding up similar numbers in spots three and four. The other two were coming up behind—way behind. Some media outlet ran a quick exit poll interview, and Enkians commented that yes, they had changed their mind as a result of the feathered crest incident, while others hadn't even heard about it.
Nothing like a population of voters who had no clue as to what was going on around them.
A triple chime rang once again with the update that forty-nine percent of polls were now reporting. The Words Muse leader, Qor, had taken a small lead, and that was unexpected. ”Then again, playing the odds of their subterfuge had been a risk,” Tanner said to himself.
He looked at Bram and grimaced but said nothing.
Again, there was a feed from a media source over in the Dance Muse pyramid where the twin candidates were being interviewed together. Neither, Tanner noted, had much to say other than they were really counting on the later returns, as one of them for sure was going to be the next leader of the jurors.
Confidence was a needed trait in any leader, Tanner knew, but these two were both in a world of their own.
Three more chimes sounded, and now with eighty-one percent of polls reporting, Resources was now able to make a projection on the winner—and it was going to be Eecesoe Qig of the Fine Arts Muse, and down in the Words Muse pyramid, the crowds were now all up and cheering or booing but involved somehow.
“It worked,” Tanner said to himself, and he held up a clenched fist and noted that beside him Bram did the same, and he turned back over his right shoulder and yes, Kondo too. Mission accomplished. No need to cheer, Tanner thought, but he felt good about the hard work and personal involvement of Bram in getting this all done and would not forget that.
Maybe once we're back in the Barony, I'll find a way to show my appreciation ...
#####
"Sir, I've got Ambassador Harmon on his secure PDA—EYES ONLY for you, Sir," Lieutenant Irving said, and then she glanced down at her console which began to flash at her again.
"And, Sir, we have a force—more than fifty Militia soldiers being held down in the landing bay. Seems they came up with no advance notice nor for that matter request to dock—they say, Sir, that they are serving an arrest warrant on Lieutenant Bram Sander, Sir."
Tanner just looked at her, not fully understanding what she was saying, and he shook his head and said, "Say again, Lieutenant?"
"Sir, there are more than fifty Militia fully armed soldiers being held in the landing bay with an arrest warrant for Lieutenant Sander. Our own marines have them at gunpoint, Sir, but they say they're not going anywhere without him, Sir," she said and then clicked a few buttons on her console, and the rotunda of the Words Muse pyramid disappeared and the landing bay down on Deck Five on the Atlas came on screen.
A shuttle, quite a bit bigger than what he'd have thought the Enkian Militia might have, sat a distance away from the AI camera. In between its POV and the shuttle stood the fifty Militia fully armed soldiers. Each had an assault rifle in their hands, pointed down but still ready to use, and each was dressed in full flak suit armor. A couple of Militia officers stood in front of the troops spread out to form a major front. One, Tanner could see, was a conda—the Enkian equivalent of a general. Beside him were a couple of colonels and a stonecraw.
Opposite them, seen only from their backs, stood a hundred or so Atlas marines in full combat gear, their own assault rifles and sub-machine arms pointed directly at the opposing Militia soldiers. Standing at the rear was the Atlas marine colonel who was duty officer of the day, Anderson, Tanner thought, but he couldn't see the man's face clearly.
"Lieutenant, notify the duty officer down there that I'm on my way—have him tell that to the conda there, please. Transfer the ambassador's call to my PDA—authorization code C-A-P-6-6-H-N. Have a full company of marines put opposite the landing bay on the other side—have them come up the internal stairwell and stay in same but as close as possible to the bay, and put them under the control of the duty officer—and notify him. Bram, Kondo, you're with me," he said, and he stood and quickly moved out of the bridge, turned to his right, and started to trot down Deck Five toward the landing bay more than a thousand feet away.
As he trotted, he clicked his PDA and got the ambassador who had left him a message after holding for what must have been too long for an ambassador. Simple message—the Militia was under orders from the jurors to come and arrest Lieutenant Sander as they had proof that he was responsible for the feathered crest color fiasco. Armed militia, Harmon said, with orders to take Sander in under an arrest warrant for trial here on Enki. Forewarned was forearmed but remember the rule of law, Harmon had finished off. That got a hint of a smile out of Tanner as he continued to trot, Bram and Kondo just a few steps behind him. It did take a bit to travel those thousand feet, and they were not impeded as every single crewmember moved out of their way in an instant. Guess they don't see bridge officers running down the main deck too often.
A few feet ahead, Tanner slowed and then stopped. Under the circumstances, while he was the captain of the Atlas, he already had a colonel in charge of the situation within the landing bay, and he knew he'd have to be a bit mannerly when he entered. He made his way to and then through the outer doorway off to the right of the corridor and into the landing bay.
It was as he'd already seen—two forces, opposed to each other, arms drawn and yet frozen. Between them stood his colonel, and on the other side, the Enkian conda and his retinue stood. All frozen. All waiting for him.
This must go well, he thought.
He walked slowly but solidly around the backs of the ranks of his own marines to the open space far off to the right-hand side of the big landing bay. He turned to his left and made his way, keeping his eyes on the eyes of the conda, who half-turned to watch him, as he moved directly to the side of his own colonel.
"Colonel Anderson, I see we have visitors here on the Atlas," he said calmly and politely.
Anderson half-turned to face his captain and just nodded.
"And as yet have our guests made their wants known to us?" he asked politely, which got him a simple "no, Sir," from the colonel.
Nodding, T
anner stepped forward, faced the Militia force directly, and said quite clearly and politely, "Conda, I am Captain Tanner Scott of the Atlas. What can we do for you today?"
The conda was a bit surprised, he thought, as the conda held out his hand and one of his colonels beside him handed him a document. The conda looked down at it for a second to confirm that it was the proper item, and then he held it out to Tanner.
"Captain Scott, I'm Conda Yabesui Qem, sent to your ship with this arrest warrant for one Lieutenant Sander, under orders from the jurors of Enki. We are under orders to do just that, Captain," he said, as Tanner took the single sheet of paper out of his hand.
He looked down at it, realized it was in Enkian, so he couldn't even read it, and looked up at the conda. "Conda Qem—are you here to serve this warrant upon Lieutenant Sander?" he asked.
Conda Qem nodded and replied, "Yes, Captain."
Tanner stared at him and wondered what might happen should he refuse to honor this warrant. There'd be combat right here in the landing bay, and then the whole RIM diplomatic mission would be canceled. They could go and not miss Enki—but then again, there was the damn Xithricite metal issue to think about too. As he stood there pondering that, Bram walked right by him and faced the conda himself.
"Conda Qem, I am Lieutenant Bram Sander and I submit to your warrant—you may take me into custody, Sir," he said, and there was a gasp somewhere behind Tanner.
As Bram held out his hands to be cuffed, Tanner stepped forward to stand beside his lieutenant.
"Conda—I would expect that you will be transporting my officer down to the capital city, where he will be put into custody in the Militia pyramid. Do I have that correct?" he asked.
