There was a flurry of activity in the final hours before departure. Prime Minister Jones and Fleetmaster Rhaab both commed to express their thanks and well wishes for a safe return someday. Because they had been on duty here so long, it almost felt like TF 19 was as much a part of the EarthFed space force as the SUSF.
The ten Union vessels maneuvered into position, forming up in single file before the great oval construct that was the Earth hypergate. Pettigrew had wrestled with the question of whether to file a formal protest with Central Command over the issue of using a Gate that had not been completely tested yet. It wouldn’t change his orders, but if they never came out the other side, he would have one hell of a posthumous ‘I told you so’ to hang around somebody’s neck. In the end, he decided against it.
Tempest floated just beyond the mouth of EarthGate. The hypergate’s supervising director once again assured him all was well, as she and her team had worked through the night to conduct as many last minute checks as possible. One final trial probe materialized from Artemis and exited the Gate, this one containing a variety of live test animals. The analyses on the specimens were all green. The readings from the probe’s onboard computer were green. The signals coming in from the Artemis Gate at the other end of the wormhole were green. It was time.
On the bridge, things were all business. Focusing on work was always good for calming nerves, and today the crew was focusing extra hard. If Taylin Adams were here, she would have said something funny to lighten the mood. David Swoboda was going to be a fine XO, but he didn’t have Taylin’s sense of humor. It was one of the many ways in which she would be missed.
“All right, Ms. Nyondo,” said Pettigrew, projecting a confident voice. “Ahead one-quarter.”
“Ahead one-quarter, aye.”
The heavy cruiser slid forward into the controlled pool of shimmering space-time. As the great mouth of EarthGate rippled and glistened, it swallowed Tempest whole and then evaporated into nothingness.
13: Homecoming
Rousseau system
Near Planet Odessa
The entire world awaits the arrival of an Odessan icon, as we continue to fix our FirstStar Network cameras on the great hypergate that hangs some four hundred thousand kilometers above our planet. Anticipation has been building for Her Excellency’s visit since the Koenig Manor announcement came some four standard months ago. This will be her first trip away from Sarissa since becoming First Consul and how like our Noble Lady to make that first journey back here, to the homeworld she holds so dear.
Oh, it looks as though this may be the moment, as the hypergate has been activated. The iridescent waves of space-time, so familiar to interstellar travelers, are starting to form within the oval opening of the Gate. Almost like vertical ocean waves, as they—yes, there it is! There it is, the great battleship Marpesia, leaping through the Gate and into Rousseau space. What a great day for Odessa!
Gating from Artemis to the Zavijava and Rousseau systems, the battleship transporting the First Consul and her party had taken eight hours to reach its destination, including a four-hour layover in Zavijava for a VIP meet-and-greet. Now, as Marpesia slowly cleared the Rousseau system Gate, two waiting destroyers took up escort positions on either side as the trio moved toward the planet.
Renata Darracott was joined on this excursion by several members of the Directorate, government ministers, and business leaders. Of particular note was Karl Gideon, owner and director of Gideon Universal, one of the two major shipbuilders for the Union Space Force. As part of Darracott’s push to enhance the economy of her homeworld, Gideon Universal had constructed the Odessa Space Works, a massive orbital shipyard. The facility had given thousands of Odessans good-paying jobs for the first time in their lives, and the Union leader was eager to visit the station herself.
Conspicuous in her absence was Ardith Flood. Oddly, the bodyguard-in-chief had insisted on staying in Esterkeep. She argued that Bennett Boyer could use her help in administering the government while the First Consul was away, but Darracott suspected there was more to it than that. For his part, Boyer didn’t think it wise for any leader to be away from their capital in time of war. That sentiment had captured the colonel’s attention. Most likely, she had stayed behind to be on the lookout for anyone who might try to take advantage of the First Consul’s absence. Still, Darracott thought her decision to remain behind on Sarissa was a peculiar one.
Marpesia docked at Ukko Station, the main military facility in orbit above Odessa. There were welcoming ceremonies, with a speech by the station commander, followed by a formal dinner and all the pomp and circumstance that went along with such affairs. Smiles, handshakes, and small talk to last a lifetime.
Later that evening, after the welcoming activities had mercifully concluded, the First Consul’s security detail had cleared the small observation deck of Ukko Station for her private use. Darracott sat relaxing and gazing into the vacuum. It was a rare treat to be able to view the vastness of outer space through real windows rather than using viewscreens.
Although Colonel Flood had not made the journey, Andrew Merritt had. Merritt was the chief butler at Koenig Manor, and he had been pressed into field duty to attend to the First Consul’s needs. After this evening’s mind-numbing ceremonies, what Darracott needed was a drink. Fortunately, for the Sarissan leader, Merritt made a splendid martini.
As she waited for her cocktail, Darracott stared down on her native White World. From the space station, she could see that most of the landmasses were covered in snow or frost, with bits of brown and green peeking through in only a few places. Some of the oceans were frozen over for part of the year due to the planet’s elliptical orbit of its distant dim star. Odessa was simultaneously beautiful and bleak—but it was her native land nonetheless.
“Your martini, Excellency,” said a voice from behind her, but it wasn’t Merritt. Looking around she found a man clad in formal wear holding a martini in each hand. He was in his mid-forties, and his handsome ebony face wore a congenial smile as he handed her one of the cocktails.
“Mr. Gideon, what have you done with my man Merritt?” she smiled, taking the drink.
“I have to confess, I made a deal with him—he would make the drinks if I got to serve.”
“That doesn’t sound like Merritt.”
“You’re right, I’m afraid I twisted his arm,” laughed Gideon. “Actually, I just wanted an excuse to catch you alone. I’ve been trying all day, but you’ve been a busy woman.”
Darracott sighed. “Too busy. I’ve looked forward to this trip for a long time, but I forgot about how much ceremonial mumbo-jumbo was going to be involved.” They both took a sip of their drinks. “Oh, that’s good,” she sighed.
“It certainly is. Not as good as the ones I make, but still solid.”
“You’ll have to make me one sometime,” she grinned. “I wish we were visiting your shipyard tomorrow instead of three days from now. I’d much rather be touring your facility than making a speech.” Tomorrow was to be one of the high points of her visit—a live speech before the Odessan people in the capital city.
“But your public is clamoring for you,” he said, taking another sip. “What is it they call you here? The Noble Lady?”
“Ha! Truth is, I’m not that noble and sometimes I’m not even very ladylike,” she laughed. “I know I’ve done it before, but I want to thank you again for having enough faith in Odessa and her people to build your new shipyard here. It’s been a huge boost to the local economy, and this world desperately needed something good to happen for it. Thank you, Mr. Gideon.”
“Enough of this Mr. Gideon business. If you really want to thank me, please call me Karl. As far as the construction of the shipyard, I should thank you. You could have accepted the bid from Arcadius.” Arcadius Industries was the other major shipbuilder for the Union Space Force and the principal business competitor of Gideon Universal.
“Central Command and the Trade Ministry reviewed the proposals,” Dar
racott said, sliding one of the olives into her mouth.
“True, but you made the final decision. Just out of curiosity, what put us over the top?”
The First Consul stood and walked to the viewing window. “The bid from Arcadius had all the right numbers, but they were just numbers. I thought your presentation had a genuine concern for the people of this planet.”
The smile disappeared from Gideon’s face. “Well, it took me a failed marriage and an estranged son to learn that people are more important than profits. It was a hard lesson, but I learned.”
She gazed out the window at the world below. “These people need all the help they can get—I know because I grew up down there. It’s a cold, cruel place. On worlds like Sarissa, it’s about the quality of life. Here, it’s just about life—about survival.” She shivered, remembering the freezing days of her youth.
Gideon rose and took off his jacket, wrapping it around her. His hands held it to her shoulders for a long moment before letting go. “Are you going to visit any family while you’re here?”
“There’s no one to visit,” she said. “My mother was older, forty-six, when I was born. As I was growing up, my parents were the age of all my friends’ grandparents. They’re both gone now, along with all my aunts and uncles.”
“Only child?”
“Yes—you?”
“The same.” There was silence between them. Maybe it should have been awkward, but it wasn’t. Darracott found the quiet moment together pleasant as they stood and simply stared out the window.
“Well,” he said finally. “You’ve had a long day and will no doubt have a longer one tomorrow. Thank Merritt for the martini. Good night, Excellency.”
Just as he reached the door, she called after him. “Oh, Mr. Gideon—Karl! You forgot your jacket.”
“We’re staying in the same hotel in Stavenstad,” he smiled. “I’ll drop by tomorrow evening and pick it up. Keep it tonight, it may help you stay warm.”
* * * *
There had never been an event like this in Odessan history. Stavenstad’s Central Square was packed, with the Home Ministry estimating the crowd at over seventy-five thousand—almost a quarter of the world’s entire population. People were pushed together as far as the eye could see as the masses poured into the planetary capital to be a part of it all. They just wanted to hear her, to catch a glimpse of her, to tell their children and grandchildren that they had been there on that grand day in 2570.
Waiting off stage to be introduced by the governor, Darracott was bundled in a heavy coat and fur hat. It was cold, around six degrees Celsius, and a lively breeze was making it feel colder. Standing next to her, Karl Gideon marveled at the gathering.
“Excellency, don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a crowd that was so fair-haired and so very… white,” he grinned.
“I’ll admit there is uniformity to my people,” she said, “but the pale skin is more prevalent than the blond hair. There are actually quite a few dark-haired Odessans.”
“I suppose it would be easier to tell if it were a summer day and everyone wasn’t so bundled up,” he said, shivering.
She turned her head and grinned at him. “Karl, it is summer.”
As the governor prepared to call her on stage, she removed her fur hat and handed it to Captain Vickery, head of the Kaskian bodyguards in Colonel Flood’s absence.
“But, Excellency,” pleaded Vickery, “you’ll be cold.”
“Captain, people came here to see me, not my hat.” Darracott’s ultra-short bleached hair had become her trademark during the First Consul’s brief but spectacular political career and she wanted to let everyone have a good look.
As she took the stage, the crowd thundered. Giant holo-projectors located around the square projected her image to those too distant to see well. Thousands waved blue and gold Union flags, conscientiously provided by the Ministry of Culture. Others displayed homemade signs welcoming “Our Noble Lady.” Security was exceptionally tight and at times there seemed to be as many police and soldiers on hand as citizens.
The speech itself was classic Darracott. It hit all of her usual themes: duty, dedication to the greater good, pride in the Union and its accomplishments. The war with Gerrha was touched on briefly, but overall, it was not meant to be a war speech. These were words intended to encourage the Odessan people, who for so long had been ignored by previous Union leaders.
“My brothers and sisters, in days to come, the faint sun of our sky will shine brighter. It will shine bright because you are not alone. You have friends on Sarissa, on Quijano—you have comrades on each of the other Six Worlds. From now on, when Odessa calls, they will answer!”
The throng roared its approval.
“And what of you? Rather, I should say, what of us?” There was giddy laughter and approval of the notion that the leader of the Sarissan Union would include herself along with regular folks. After all, she was one of them.
“If the Union calls, what will you do?” Darracott asked, knowing some in the multitude would give the desired response.
“I will answer!” yelled several hundred people.
“When the Union calls, I will answer,” she said slowly. Raising her hand in a fist, she repeated the phrase again. “When the Union calls, I will answer.” This time not hundreds, but thousands joined in. The next time, more joined the chorus. By the fifth repetition, the entire crowd was shouting the phrase in frenzied enthusiasm.
At the end of the speech, the cheering seemed to go on forever. Darracott came back on stage twice to acknowledge the faithful. The second time she caused a stir among the security team by walking to a position on stage where she was not shielded by the clear, bulletproof security fields. Captain Vickery was beside himself, but there were no incidents.
That evening another formal dinner took place at the hotel where the official traveling party was staying, followed by a smaller reception in Darracott’s suite. With the help of Merritt and Vickery, all of the guests had been gently herded away by 22:00 hours—all save one.
“You were at your finest today,” said Karl Gideon as he tended bar, mixing two martinis.
Darracott collapsed onto a couch. “Well, I noticed you were getting the star treatment yourself.”
“Ha! I’m not sure whether people were paying special attention to me because I’m a wealthy man or because I’m a black man,” he grinned. “Black seems to be a novelty on Odessa.”
“No, no, it’s not that. My brothers and sisters see you as a benefactor, and they want to express their gratitude. So many times in the past, the rich and privileged have come to our world, taken what they’ve wanted and left. Mining interests mostly. People here see the long-term investment Gideon Universal is making and it impresses them.”
He handed her a drink and sat down beside her. They clinked glasses to toast the day’s fine work.
“Very good,” she said, smacking her lips after the first sip. “You even gave me three olives.”
“Merritt clued me in.”
They talked about the day, the people they had met, impressions of Stavenstad, and the like. Merritt checked in to see if they needed anything and then tactfully withdrew for the remainder of the evening.
“You know I was surprised at something today,” said the First Consul. “Of all the people I talked to, of all the new people I met, not one of them asked about the war. Don’t you think that’s odd—maybe even unhealthy?”
“If you told these people that night was day and day was night, they would want to believe you. You’ve told them the war is necessary, so they’re not going to question you about it.”
“Not questioning their leaders,” she repeated. “That might even be unhealthier.”
Gideon turned his body to face her and placed his arm on the top of the couch behind her. “You’re a very confused woman. You love the power and the adulation, don’t you?” he asked. When she hesitated to respond, he continued. “It’s beginnin
g to scare you a little though, isn’t it? It was all good while you were able to push through social and economic projects because the military had your back, but now with the war it’s become messy, hasn’t it? Not as sure about things as you once were, are you?”
Darracott didn’t know how to respond. “You sound like a friend of mine, Leo Sanchez. At least he used to be a friend of mine.”
“Oh yes, the retired admiral. Big man in the Reformist Party now. He speaks out against you a lot—that must piss you off.”
“You’re pretty blunt for someone I’ve known for all of what—two days?”
“Sorry, but like you, I don’t believe in bullshitting. I’m right though, aren’t I, Renata? You are having second thoughts about things: the war, the military—everything.”
She leaned her head back against his arm and took a deep breath. “Let’s just say at times the job is confusing.”
Gideon moved closer to her and took her hand in his. “You know what would make it less confusing, Renata?”
She smiled at him. “No one calls me Renata. My friends call me Rennie.”
“That’s a waste of a wonderful name. As your new friend, I’m going to stick with Renata. It’s a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”
She felt herself blush, but with the indoor lighting, he might not have noticed. “You were saying—what would make things less confusing?”
“If you let me kiss you.”
She held his eyes and grinned. “A kiss rarely makes things more clear. It’s been my experience that it has quite the opposite effect.”
“Let’s try it and find out,” he whispered as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. One kiss lead to a longer one, which lead to a longer one still.
The Rampant Storm Page 11
