Méridien (The Silver Ships Book 3)
Page 30
-34-
During the last day of the flotilla’s FTL flight to Hellébore, Alex didn’t intend to leave his suite. He rose early that morning, dressed in a simple ship suit, took a seat on the lounge, and connected to Julien, Cordelia, and Z.
Renée allowed Alex to miss morning meal. It was his habit during critical events, and this certainly qualified as an important event—becoming the President of a new world of a quarter-million people with no infrastructure and the unenviable task of duplicating alien technology. However, when midday meal approached and Alex showed no signs of stopping, Renée took matters into her own hand.
Renée replied.
Alex’s personnel organization model, compiled from the SADEs’ databases of bio-IDs, froze in place.
He opened his eyes, jumped up, and snatched Renée up to twirl her around several times while she uselessly pounded her fists on his shoulders in frustration. Alex set her down and began plastering kisses on her neck and ear.
“Stop that. I wish to be angry with you,” Renée declared, attempting to be free of Alex’s embrace, with no success whatsoever.
“Okay,” Alex replied, continuing to kiss her cheek, nose, and forehead.
“I’m serious, Alex,” Renée said.
“Okay,” Alex replied between more kisses.
When Alex found her lips, Renée gave in, leaning into the kiss until the thought of a meal as well as her anger dissipated. Suddenly she was whisked up in Alex’s arms, and he was running at the cabin door. It barely had time to slide open before they barreled through. Renée laughed in delight as the crew jumped out of their way, and Alex raced down the corridor, repeatedly crying out, “Food, food!”
Renée tucked her legs close to prevent them striking anyone, and returned the smiles and grins of the crew. Through her laughter came the thought that her anger over Alex missing a meal or two seemed petty in contrast to the events of the last year and a half. It was a lesson that seventy years in stasis had taught her, but she occasionally forgot. No matter how long your life span, life was too short not to make the most of every day.
Alex signaled the meal room doors open, stepped though cradling Renée, leaned his head back, and, with all the force he could muster, yelled, “Food!”
The crew in the meal room was caught off guard. A few sought to reciprocate in some fashion and called back timidly, “Food,” only to hear Alex repeat his yell. This time, more of the crew, energized by Alex, returned his yell. But Alex wasn’t done. He bellowed his cry again, and the crew responded by jumping up, shooting a fist into the air, and shouting as one, “Food!”
Alex set Renée down amid the laughter and shouts, a huge grin on his face. The cheers of the crew were a salve on his worries.
* * *
In the afternoon, Julien announced their impending exit from FTL into the Hellébore system, and a few of the crew reported to Medical for the transition. Afterward, Alex returned to his cabin and took the opportunity to engage the SADEs in launching some additional steps since the flotilla’s sub-light speed would allow shuttles to transition between ships.
Alex started a comm to his Directors.
Eric said.
* * *
Early in the evening and before Alex could settle in with the SADEs, Renée told him he had an important appointment to keep. Alex’s response was interrupted by the cabin door sliding open.
Terese, Geneviève, and Eloise came through, trailing a small grav-lift piled high with clothes, boots, and accessories.
“New wardrobe, Sers?” Alex asked, producing a giggle from Eloise, who was tickled at the thought her people’s leader should confer the respectful adult term on her. “I wouldn’t have thought you would have had time to design and produce one set of clothes, much less all this,” Alex said, walking over to the grav-lift.
“There are many talents among the people that are still being discovered, Ser President,” Geneviève replied. “Among our pioneers, we have found a garment manufacturer, a ‘tailor’ he calls himself, and his extended family. But these are not New Terran or Méridien fashions. My comm to the tailor, Ser Delacroix, was routed through Cordelia. It was she who offered to design the clothes. If I had not heard it myself, I would never have believed a SADE would beg to be granted a responsibility.” As Geneviève dug through the pile, she mumbled, “So many changes.” Finding what she wanted, Geneviève offered a set of clothes to Alex. “I am most fond of these, Ser President, and would be pleased to have a preview.”
Alex nodded, taking the clothes from Geneviève and carrying them into the sleeping quarters to change.
As the door closed, Eloise turned to Geneviève. �
�Why did he do that, Ser? Does he not want us to see him in his new clothes?”
“He will return to show us, little one,” Renée replied. “It is a New Terran custom.”
As if that was all the explanation required, Eloise nodded. If it was the President’s custom, who was she to question it?
Alex stepped back through the sleeping quarters’ door to stand before his small audience. His jacket resembled a military cut with its short collar and tight fit, but its body length extended to his wrists. On Alex, the cut emphasized his physique. The color was deep purple. Gold buttons decorated the front, featuring raised seals of Haraken designed by Cordelia. The buttons were pure ornament, as the jacket self-sealed. Two smaller buttons sat on each collar’s tab with a stylized “H.” No other ornament or decoration disturbed the coat, except for the hint of the shirt’s short white collar band peeking over the jacket’s neckline. The trousers were black with deep purple trim along the trouser legs.
Renée wore a smile that engulfed her face.
Geneviève began to chuckle softly and then covered her mouth to still her sound. “If I may say so, Ser President, I believe that Cordelia, Ser Delacroix, Terese, and I make an excellent design team,” Geneviève said.
“I helped too,” Eloise piped up.
“Yes, you did, little one,” Terese agreed.
Alex was regarding himself in the mirror when Eloise cried out, “Now my idea, Ser President.”
Terese laughed at Eloise’s enthusiasm and dug into the pile of clothes to pull out a long, heavy garment. Eloise raced over to her to take it, and as she took it in both arms, its length reached to the deck on both sides of her arms. She carried the garment to Alex, who opened it up. It was a beautiful cloak of deep purple. Subtle shoulder tabs displayed the Haraken design in gold, echoing the jacket’s buttons. When Alex donned the cloak, it swept almost to the deck, and its collar nestled against his jacket collar, closing with a gold clasp. The cloak added even more dimension to Alex’s silhouette. In the mirror, he appeared the size of three Méridiens.
Standing beside Alex, Renée observed the mirror’s reflection and softly uttered, “Oh my!”
“Ser President, I have a surprise for you. It’s my idea too!” Eloise said.
When Alex turned to look at Eloise, she was standing on the lounge for greater height and gesturing to him. Alex stepped up to her, and Eloise’s nimble fingers reached under the top of the clock, near the clasp, and pulled out a transparent tube with nostril plugs.
“I have learned the air of Haraken might challenge our Protector’s metabolism. This is to ensure his well-being.”
Eloise small fingers carefully placed the tube’s end against Alex’s nose, and the familiar nanites sealed against his nostrils. Pure oxygen flowed into Alex’s chest with his next breath.
Alex turned to show Renée, but Eloise, who had been leaning against him, fell forward. As Alex felt her slip, his hand shot forward, finding an arm slit in the cloak, and scooped Eloise up. He was rewarded with another giggle as Eloise found herself perched on Alex’s arm.
When Eloise wrapped her arms around the President’s neck for balance, she was reminded of her favorite tree limb, from which she spent hours watching Libre’s fauna. That diada tree had been her sanctuary, and the similarity between these two islands of safety sank deep into the young girl’s psyche.
Renée watched Alex, who easily balanced a smiling Eloise on one arm while he displayed the oxygen tube to her. The scene squeezed Renée’s heart with a fierceness that brought tears to her eyes. Alex was complimenting Eloise on her cleverness, and the child was blushing and chatting happily.
Terese sent a question to Renée.
Renée looked at Terese, one of her closest associates who had become an even closer friend, and smiled. Terese herself had never looked so content.
* * *
Alex, attired in his new wardrobe, was accompanied by Renée, Tatia, and the twins for the slate of morning meetings that would be held aboard the Unsere Menschen. The route from cabin to shuttle bay was peppered with the whistles and applause of old and new crew, the latter having transferred in from the flotilla’s other ships.
Alex’s quick strides and forward-bent shoulders shifted. His pace slowed, his shoulders straightened, and he extended his arms, bent at the elbows, to Renée and Tatia. Each woman took an arm, and the three walked through Rêveur’s wide central corridor in procession, which only increased the volume of the crew members’ appreciation.
Tatia’s fears of her new admiralty position had crowded her mind for much of the last two days. Walking arm in arm with Alex brought a strange sense of calm. Ah, black space, she thought. The worst that can happen is we die. If so, it will be in great company.
* * *
Aboard the shuttle, Alex sat on the arm of an aisle seat so that he could speak with Alain and Étienne. “You two didn’t think that you would miss the onslaught of added responsibilities did you?” Alex said with mock seriousness.
His two escorts grinned back at him. “But, Ser President,” Alain said, “you’re such an immense target. It requires all our focus to secure you.”
Alex heard Tatia’s chuckle under her breath, but before he could return fire at Alain, Étienne added, “Then there is your penchant for putting yourself in harm’s way, Ser President, when prudent individuals would not venture in the directions you often choose.”
“You know one of the good things about being President?” Alex said. “I get the last say.” As the grins disappeared from the faces of the twins, Alex added, “You two are now the Directors of Government Security—my Ministers, the Assembly Representatives, and my Ambassadors, our ex-Directors, who will be traveling extensively … keep them all safe and secure.”
“We presume that includes you and the First Lady,” Étienne said, adding to the list.
“Yes, it does, Sers,” Alex said. “Get your house in order now. As we grow, you will find your jobs even more challenging. An independent, open society increases the potential for chaos among certain quarters.”
Alex’s words reminded everyone of the events at New Terra and the treachery unleashed on them by their adversaries.
-35-
Aboard the Unsere Menschen in a large conference room, a group of people assembled and exchanged bio-IDs. While Tomas and Eric were known to everyone, their new responsibilities had not been announced. The others present were the new Assembly Representatives and Alex’s recently appointed Ministers.
While they waited for Alex, the Representatives conversed with one another. The people’s consensus had winnowed a long list of volunteers down to ten members, but not without help. Implant comms were insufficient to manage the complexity, and the SADEs had stepped in to support the process. In the end, five Independents had been chosen: Bibi Haraken, Guillermo De Laurent, Helena Bartlett, Lina Monti, and Deter Schonberg. To this group of Independents were added Pia Sabine, Robert Dorian, Stanley Peterson, Asu Azasdau, and Katie Racine—a lost Méridien, two New Terran crew members, an ex-Bergfalk associate, and a pioneer.
The four new Ministers had already been in contact and held themselves apart to allow the Representatives an opportunity to get acquainted.
Alex and his people exited their shuttle and made their way through the Unsere Menschen’s long corridors and lifts. Aboard this city-ship, Alex was not seen so much as their President, but as the man who had worked feverishly to ensure the launch of their ship. He had been seen running while others walked, and he had worked while most slept. Alex might have been Haraken’s first President, but it did not stop the city-ship’s people from honoring the man with their greetings and polite touches on his arm or shoulder as he passed.
On reaching the conference room, Alex sought
to enter when Tatia stepped in front of him, signaled the door open, stepped inside, and announced, “President Racine and First Lady Ser de Guirnon.”
She stepped aside as the room’s occupants stood up, and Alex and Renée swept inside. There were several smiles and appreciative nods over Alex’s appearance.
“Good morning, everyone,” Alex said. “Please be seated. I would ask you to record this meeting. There are several items that you will wish to refer to later. As of today, all of our previous titles and duties no longer exist. We have new jobs.” Alex walked to the head of the conference table. “As you can see, I am no longer your Admiral. I’m your President, and I would like to introduce Admiral Tatia Tachenko.”
No one had missed the four stars on Tatia’s collars. Her House Alexander patch had been replaced by an “H” glyph, which was a stylized letter emblazoned over rings and dots, representing Hellébore’s planets. Tatia nodded stiffly to the group. If it weren’t for the exquisite fit of the Méridien fabric, she might have tried to blame her stiffness on the uniform.
Alex regarded the new Representatives, pleased by many of the faces he saw. “A great responsibility has been handed to the ten of you, our first Assembly Representatives,” he said. “As your President, I will work together with you to weave the framework of our new society.” He offered Helena a smile, who nodded graciously at his reference to her work.
It was Lina who was quick to speak her mind. “As our leader, Ser President, is it not your privilege to direct us?”
“No, Ser Monti, it is not,” Alex replied. “The Assembly is independent of the President. We share power, if you will, always operating with the best interests of our people in mind. Our first duty will be to draft a constitution that defines the rights of our citizens and our government’s organization, including its powers. If our constitution defines a different structure than we have created, we may be out of jobs.”
“But, Ser,” Bibi said, “have we not chosen you as President for life?”