by C H Gideon
He shook his head. “No, they didn’t. Our adventures above and around your planet haven’t gone unnoticed. Ever since we came back, the governments of your planet, all three of them, including your father’s, have been bombarding us with messages and a number of destroyers from each are patrolling nearby.”
“Wonderful,” she grumbled.
The AI nodded. “They’re keeping their distance, more I think to keep from antagonizing each other than us, but still…”
“What are the governments asking for?” she wondered.
“Seems each of them is interested in a treaty of some sort, although I’m not entirely certain of the details. Comm is handling the communications, obviously.”
“Obviously.” Jiya chuckled and sat up, kicking her legs off the side of the bed and stretching as she extended her feet. “So, what do we do?”
“I think it’s in our best interest to meet with them and see what we can get out of them,” he answered. “While I know you and the rest of the crew have no idea about the Kurtherians, it’s possible the governments of your world do. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for them to keep information from their people for all manner of reasons.”
“You think they can help us find these guys?”
He shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. Either way, it’s always a good thing to establish trade routes and allies along the way should anything happen to us. A safe place to retreat to lick our wounds is always welcome.”
She shook her head, smirking. “You think my father will welcome you with open arms?”
“That’s kind of why I wanted to talk to you,” Reynolds replied.
Jiya raised an eyebrow and stared at the AI hard. “Something tells me I’m not going to like this conversation.” She clambered out of bed to be face to face with him. “Tell me you’re not asking me to do what I think you are.”
“I could tell you that,” he said, “but I’d be lying.”
She groaned and fought the urge to flop back onto the bed and return to sleep. “Too late for the docs to shoot me up with the good stuff?”
“`Fraid so.”
“So, I’m not sure you understand my relationship with my father, but he sure as shit isn’t going to take kindly to me approaching him as a representative of an alien species via a superdreadnought.”
“No?”
“No.” Jiya bit back a laugh. “The man barely wants to deal with me, and he sure hasn’t shown any inclination to give a damn about me or my agenda, even more so after I ran away from the compound and made him look like a shitty father.” She snorted. “Well, a shittier father. Can’t really say he was ever above a turd in that department, to begin with.”
“Then here’s your chance to change his opinion. Force him to listen to you,” Reynolds offered. “You’d be arriving in the presence of a superdreadnought backed by a military force unparalleled in the universe. There’s no way he can ignore that.”
Jiya burst into raucous laughter. “You so don’t know my dad. He can stonewall with the best of them. If you think anything you can do will impress him, you’ve got another think coming.”
“Then we make sure he understands our potential,” Reynolds countered. “We make him an example for the other governments if we have to.”
Jiya’s giggles dropped off. “You mean killing him?”
“Not my first choice, of course,” Reynolds assured her. “I’m not looking to shed blood here, Jiya. I’m looking to make allies of those willing to work with us and make object lessons of those unwilling. We don’t have to kill the man to make our point, but I can’t guarantee it won’t happen if he pushes us too far.”
Jiya exhaled hard. “I thought the battle with the alien scout was real, but if anything, this makes it more real. A couple of days ago I drove a hovercab. Now I’m going to be responsible for negotiating on a global scale?”
Reynolds agreed. “It’s a big deal, I’ll admit, but again, don’t look at it as if we’re planning to take out your father or his government. We’re not. That’s not my thing, and it shouldn’t be yours. We’re simply here to take advantage of what we can get in return for as little commitment on our part as possible.”
“Still, my planet is largely in turmoil,” she warned. “Our meeting with all three of the governments—the Melowi, the Toller, and my father’s—is bound to piss people off in one group or another. Probably all of them at the same time. There’s no gentle way to navigate this minefield.”
“Which is why I want your help,” he confided. “You know these people far better than I do. If we can put a relatable face out there in our negotiations, we stand a better chance of swaying the locals to our cause.”
“Or pissing them all off,” she muttered.
“That possibility exists with all negotiations, of course, but I like to think there’s an opportunity here,” he countered. “We’re not coming in hot and heavy. We’ll approach them diplomatically, with open arms, and see where that gets us. Comm is arranging a dialogue with all three, so the event will be open and transparent.”
Jiya grunted her uncertainty. “You know how to throw a party,” she said with a nervous laugh. “These three people, the heads of each country, don’t even remotely get along. You might be forcing them to cooperate in a public forum, but I guarantee they will be plotting to stab each other, and us if they think we’re collaborating with the others. They’ll put themselves on top the first chance they get.”
“Then we go in prepared for it,” Reynolds deflected. “I’ve been around a long, long time, and I’ve seen the very best negotiate under far more complicated circumstances than these. I’m confident we can work out what we need and walk away without issue.”
“I wish I had your confidence,” she told him. “Maybe I’m just too much of a pessimist to think this is all going to end up hunky-dory.” Jiya met the android’s gaze, staring him down for a second before going on. “I’m still not sure we even need to do this. What do we have to gain?”
“That uncertainty is what drives me to take the chance,” Reynolds admitted. “Beyond a safe place to alight in our travels, there’s the possibility of food and supplies to be gained, a stable refueling location, and maybe something else we haven’t considered, all in exchange for intel or technology from worlds your people have never seen or even knew existed.”
“And you think that’s wise—giving advanced tech to a culture in exchange for food and fuel?” she questioned.
He shrugged. “My mandate from Bethany Anne is clear. We’re to seek out and destroy Kurtherians. Anything I can do to accomplish that, outside of offering up the secrets to the Federation’s martial and intellectual superiority, is on the table,” he explained. “Nothing I pass on to these governments will advance them to the point of overpowering each other or the universe at large, I promise.”
She sighed, still wondering just how badly they needed to do this. Then she wondered if her aversion to it had more to do with her father than the actual act of meeting with the governments.
After all these years and everything that had transpired between them, could she bring herself to stare the man in his eye and make demands?
She wanted to say yes.
They’d fought before, and Jiya had pushed for her independence and that of her two younger sisters, but that wasn’t the same as what she’d be attempting with Reynolds’ negotiations.
Just by arriving in the presence of an alien species packing the kind of superior weapon systems the SD Reynolds carried would put her father on his heels. She knew just how well that had worked out for anyone who’d ever tried it.
Worse still, with Jiya having snuck out of the compound and run away, leaving her father to have to bury her publicly, she’d already crossed the line and incurred his ire. He wouldn’t take kindly to her return no matter what the circumstances.
Just how far he’d go to make a point concerned her.
Would he manipulate the situation, using her as a sort of leverage against the
AI and the other governments, or would he take affront to her presence and lash out, foregoing diplomacy altogether? Either was possible, and neither would be productive.
Still, she’d chosen her fate when she’d signed up with Reynolds and offered him her service. This was her future, no matter what happened on Lariest.
She’d made her bed, and now was the time to lie in it.
“Fine, I’ll do it,” she assured him. “But so you know, I think this is a double-decker shit sandwich we’re about to take a massive mouthful of.”
“Noted,” Reynolds told her, “and gross.”
She nodded. “Keep the image in mind when you meet my father. It might be the happiest thought you have.”
Chapter Sixteen
“I still don’t know how my father talked you into this,” Jiya complained. “We’re making a mistake by letting him play the magnanimous host.”
“Maybe,” Reynolds countered, “but he’ll have the eyes of his neighbors on him the entire time we’re here. He’ll find it hard to manipulate the dialogue despite the apparent home court advantage. Besides, your presence is the equalizer,” the AI said with a grin. “You said it yourself: he had to bury you in the public eye. Disown you, right?”
Jiya nodded.
“Then that puts him at a disadvantage,” Reynolds said. “He won’t be able to use your relationship as leverage against the others because he’s trashed it publicly, but they will be able to use it against him.”
She chuckled. “You don’t know my father. He won’t be bullied by you, me, or any of these diplomats. His ego is firmly in the driver’s seat, and anyone attempting to take control away from him will pay dearly.”
Reynolds shrugged. “Then we use that attitude to better our position with the others. We don’t need help from all of them. One or two advances our agenda, so regardless how many of the three sides are with us, we win.”
“I hope you’re right,” Jiya muttered, shaking her head. She didn’t believe it, but she was willing to put her faith in Reynolds. Besides, she could see the pair of them upstaging her father, and that alone was worth the discomfort of her being there.
“I am,” Reynolds replied. “But even if I’m not, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“Oh, tell me you did not just say that.” Jiya rolled her eyes and raised them to the ceiling. “Please, cruel fate, ignore him, for he knows not what he says.”
“We’re coming in for a landing now,” Comm reported. “Looks like you have a nice welcoming committee waiting for you down there.”
Jiya glanced at the viewscreen Comm triggered as they approached the private landing platform inside her father’s presidential compound. “I’m not seeing a bunch of guns. That’s a good sign.” The shuttle drifted downward, angling toward a landing.
“See, all that worrying for nothing,” Reynolds told her.
“I’ll reserve judgment.”
“Autodocking has control,” Comm reported. “You’re on your own now. Good luck.”
“We don’t need luck,” Reynolds countered. “We have the might of the Etheric Federation behind us.”
“You mean the SD’s massive firepower?” Jiya asked.
“Exactly.” The AI grinned, and despite herself, Jiya found herself returning it.
This shit is crazy, she thought, but Reynolds’ optimism was contagious.
Once the shuttle was settled on the tarmac, the door hissed open, and Reynolds marched out without hesitation. Jiya sucked in a deep breath and followed, doing her best to look like she belonged there.
Reynolds had provided her with a uniform, a castoff of the last crew, but it fit her nicely and, even better, made her look more professional than she’d ever looked in her life. Its crisp lines and sharp design spoke of confidence, and she couldn’t help but feel a transference between it and her.
Shoulders back, chest out, she strode from the ship and stared down the presidential escort her father had sent to greet them. She recognized the man at the head of the procession as her father’s personal assistant.
Older, and thin to the point of making Jiya think the man was crafted of matchsticks, he stepped forward with a regal air, sweeping ahead of the burly guards at his back. He seemed almost to float across the ground, purple robes flowing behind him, gold seams gleaming in sharp contrast. A sneer was stitched to his face.
He, of course, recognized her, too.
The only sign was the barest of twitches of his right eyelid, then his gaze slid over Jiya and landed on Reynolds. His cold distaste at realizing Reynolds was an android was immediately obvious.
“Greetings, traveler,” he said, officious and stiff, his words not belying his disgust. “I am Gal Dorant, head of security and personal aide to President Lemaire. And you, I assume, are Lance Reynolds, representative of the Etheric Federation, yes?”
“I am, and you can simply call me Reynolds,” the AI answered.
“I think not, Mister Reynolds,” Gal replied, offering a defiant shake of his head. “We abide by a strict decorum here in Marianas, and we will maintain that tradition regardless of the status of our guests.”
His gaze slithered to Jiya, and she shook off the chill that accompanied it. There was no mistaking the venom in the man’s eyes at seeing Jiya there with Reynolds. Official representatives of an unknown alien power. It grated on his very soul.
Gal Dorant had never been friendly to her, or even cordial, for that matter. He’d always been a cold-hearted bastard who’d treated Jiya and her sisters with disdain on the best of days.
Jiya had always been a bit cowed by the man since he had her father’s ear and had so much control over her life. But now, she met the man’s glare with a sneer of her own, realizing just how different the circumstances were compared to the last time she’d seen the man.
“Pleasure to see you again, Gal,” she told the aide, purposely ignoring protocol by using his first name only. “Now, if you’ll be so gracious to lead us to the meeting hall, we’d like to be about our business with the president,” she said, subtly reminding Gal of his position.
The man bristled but, to Jiya’s surprise, managed to restrain his hostility.
He spun on a heel, his robes whirling. “This way, then.” The man marched off in a huff, but his frailty made his efforts at stomping laughable. Jiya grinned.
Reynolds raised an eyebrow and glanced at Jiya.
She shrugged. He’s always been a prick, she commed to Reynolds.
Reynolds seemed okay with that answer, and he followed the aide. Jiya stayed at his side. She didn’t want to get separated. A rancid cesspool had been opened with their arrival and, as much as she wanted to see it stirred up and splattered all over the place, she felt it best to keep close to Reynolds.
While he was sure Jiya was the key to the negotiations, she was just as certain it was actually Reynolds. He was the one packing the big guns and the wisdom of his people. If they had any hope of accomplishing something, it would be his presence that secured it.
The guards flowed around them, and there was nothing subtle in their efforts to make it clear who was in charge. Jiya ignored them, letting the men have their moment of superiority. That’d end once the other countries joined the conversation and Reynolds stepped up.
For all the posturing, there was no one on Lariest who could compete with the superdreadnought.
After a few minutes of Gal leading them the long way toward the conference area—Jiya suspecting he’d done it to avoid anyone important in the compound seeing her—they came to one of the back rooms. The aide led them inside with an impatient shuffle of his hands. They followed, the guards stationing themselves outside.
Jiya bit back a sneer at seeing her father seated at the end of the conference table in the middle of the room, his entourage standing stoically around him.
Her father met Jiya’s eyes for less than an instant, and nothing showed in his expression before he looked away, setting his gaze on Reynolds.
It was
clear he had expected her, thanks to Gal. The aide had clearly informed him of Jiya’s presence through their private comm, and Jiya sighed. She’d been hoping for a gasp or sigh or something from her dad, but he’d managed to retain the upper hand, as he always did.
“Do all your people look like Jonny taxi androids?” the president asked.
Reynolds cast a glance Jiya’s way. We need to get Takal to finish his work on that new body, STAT, he sent before meeting the president’s gaze with a grin. “You’ll have to forgive my appearance, but don’t let it throw you off, Mister President.” He gestured to the android body. “This is simply a short-term solution to provide a frame for this.” He tapped the side of his skull. “I assure you, I’m far greater than the sum of my current parts.”
“I’ll have to take your word for that, it appears,” President Lemaire snipped, drawing his chin in toward his chest.
Jiya sighed. She’d seen that very expression a million times. Her father was unimpressed. Not that she’d expected him to be since that wasn’t in his nature, but she’d hoped he’d at least take the meeting seriously.
It was clear he didn’t plan to.
Reynolds, however, wasn’t put off. “Indeed you will, Mister President. It’s in no one’s best interest if I’m forced to prove myself out of turn,” he answered. “I’m happy to offer up my capabilities, as my comm officer already has while setting up our meet, but I stand here as a representative of the Etheric Federation by order of Queen Bethany Anne. I’m hoping that’s more than sufficient credentials to prove me worthy of you meeting me.”
“Yet you bring my daughter with you,” he countered. “A recalcitrant child exiled from my home and no longer welcome here within its halls.” He snorted, shaking his head. “You’ll have to forgive me if I doubt your bargaining power if you must resort to such base attempts at twisting the narrative in your direction, alien.”
President Lemaire rose to his feet, his entourage shuffling back a step behind him to offer room. He jabbed a sharp finger in Reynolds’ direction.
