“Thank you, Chen. Do you have any suggestions?” April asked.
“It’s beyond my pay grade,” Chen insisted. “I would not respond to anything from them unless they directed it to me by name. I hope that never happens.”
“I can understand that. He didn’t name us or call out our nation except indirectly, to disclaim any threat, did he?”
Chen took that for a rhetorical question, but nodded.
“Thank you for keeping us informed. We’ll decide now if we should reply and how,” April told him and disconnected.
“It’s your edict that’s being enforced,” April reminded Heather. “Do you want us to make any response or ignore them?”
“I don’t seem to be to the forefront of their attention. Like Chen, I’m content to stay that way. There are advantages to being something of a mystery. You both have better known public personas. I’m happy to have both of you represent me as spox, but you should determine who will speak rather than cede the power to the newsies who they can question. The primary spox can always direct a question to the partner. Which of you should be first? If you play good cop – bad cop, should the heavy lead or be held back to scare them?”
“Lead with the hard guy. Jeff is the Butcher of Jiuquan Chinese grandmothers use to terrify their children into obedience,” April said. “I’m just a child with a pocket phone when I try to put the muscle on the North American military.”
“After Vandenberg, they may start paying more attention to you,” Jeff suggested, “but I’ll agree to take the honors to speak first.”
“Then you two might as well head back to Home. Mackay said there were three sets of reporters and videographers there waiting for you. With a little luck, none of them have gone home and they’ll provide an appropriate indirect back channel to North America without us needing to acknowledge we were even aware the Secretary of State spoke.”
“I won’t read Chen’s file of his news conference. The summary was sufficient and I can honestly say I haven’t watched it,” April said.
“I’ll file an early flight plan for Dionysus’ Chariot for the morning,” Jeff said. “No reason to delay by taking a commercial flight and making a spectacle for the other passengers trying to disembark.”
“A spectacle?” Heather got a slow smile. “You dressed up for our lunch with the crew of the Hringhorni. Do you still have those outfits here? Give them a show.”
“Sure, but you don’t dress like that to pilot a shuttle,” April said.
“No, you don’t, but how do the Earthie’s picture you?”
“I think most of them are stuck on my image in all black and looking even younger,” April said. Most of the interviews since then caught us at the cafeteria or coming in on a shuttle dressed casually and for comfort traveling. I seriously doubt any but a few space nuts ever find their way to “What’s Happening” or the various gossip sites that would have pix of us at a club. Why should we care?”
“For Earthies how you present yourself is who you are. You’ll never see an important politician or an industrialist with power and authority in shorts and a t-shirt. Even if they take their tie off and roll their shirt sleeves up it is a parody of a working man and their audience knows that. This is a chance to look different where they won’t kill the video because it doesn’t fit the narrative. Besides, what will the people on Home think when they see you getting off your ship looking like that?”
April looked amused. “They’ll figure we’re playing the Earthies big-time.”
“Exactly, and you’ll spend another night here,” Heather said with approval. “You did just get here after all.”
Chapter 27
“With all our friends and your paid snoops, nobody warned us there will be newsies waiting to harass us when we get off the ship,” Jeff said once they docked.
“Why would we need to be warned? Our friends are doing enough not to warn them.”
Jeff looked her over. She had on soft black slacks with a ribbon stirrup under each foot and a white linen blouse with a narrow collar. The magnificent cufflinks with which France and Mssr. Broutin had gifted her adorned the cuffs. Her jacket was a very light gray, almost silvery, with a Chesterfield collar and the sleeves short enough to show off the cuff links. It looked very conservative even by Earth mores, and expensive.
“Do I look OK? This works in zero g, but not very well. It needs gravity for the jacket to hang right. Yours is snug and fitted enough to work much better.”
“You look good enough to eat,” Jeff assured her. “Just keep the jacket buttoned.”
She had a diamond necklace from another outfit that went well with the cufflinks but would flop around and look ridiculous without gravity to make it hang right. It might sail off over her head at worst.
Jeff solved that by grabbing a can of the sticky stuff used to renew the bottom of luggage to make it stick to the deck or on the seat of your pants to keep you in a seat in zero g without strapping in. He turned the necklace upside down and sprayed the back. That gave it just enough tackiness to adhere to her blouse with most of it held down by the jacket. After some thought, he sprayed some inside the waist of her jacket.
“Perfect,” Jeff announced and sent his view from his spex to hers. She moved around and stretched her arms watching what it would do.
“Good enough, let’s go give them a show.”
The news crews had enough sense not to crowd the hatch or shine bright lights at them. They didn’t, however, have the sense to not yell questions over each other.
Jeff just stopped and braced his feet apart on short sticky boots and stared at them in disgust. The image he was giving them was quite enough to catch the public interest back home. While April was very conservative, he was gaudy. His shirt was chocolate brown with golden planets and stars, and his coat bronze with a sheen of lines and crosses of that caught the light as he moved. His trousers were light brown almost gray with black satin stripes down the sides. A matched pair of laser pistols just barely poked out from under the jacket on each side. When they finally ran down, he looked at April with to share his contempt, and back to them.
“Are you all motherless so nobody ever taught you any manners? I’ll speak to one of you at a time if you can abide the others having a turn. If you can’t be polite you can all go to the Devil and I’ll go off home.”
“Pick one, please,” The lady with no logo on her blouse requested.
“You first, then the Mouse, then the Aussie. Play nice and I may go another round.”
“Beth Regis from Eastern News. Is it true that Home intercepted the USNA extra-solar explorer?” she asked.
“No, I did so on behalf of the Sovereign of Central. The order to keep armed ships inside the L1 limit is her law. Home and Central generally support each other, but they were neither consulted in this nor was their permission sought. Do I need to explain who my sovereign is?” Jeff asked.
“No, the Queen of the Moon,” Beth answered.
“That’s the popular expression, but she is only sovereign over her own claimed areas and there are other domains on the moon to which she makes no claim.”
The Disney News fellow looked incensed when Jeff answered Beth twice. He must have thought she sneaked an extra question in somehow.
“Why did Disney go back to the stupid mouse ears for their news logo?” Jeff asked him before he could say anything. “The castle was bad enough but the mouse ears lack seriousness and dignity for a news organization. Unless the message is that the product is a docudrama, not hard news.”
“I’m Bart Pollard for Disney. You’d have to ask corporate. I think people trust the Mouse. I’d wear the hat with ears if they wanted,” he said refusing to be baited. His shrug almost lifted him off the deck. “Why would you attack a ship engaged in scientific work? And do you intend to deny star travel to the Earth nations?”
“It’s a USNA Space Force ship,” Jeff said just slow enough to imply he might have trouble following. “It wasn’t simply a
civilian ship of exploration like the French sent out. It had three long-range stand-off nuclear weapons. The sort that projects an x-ray beam from the explosion. I shudder to think what it could mean if they used those by error on an alien ship and started an interstellar war. That sort of weapon is way beyond what would be needed for self-defense.”
“They implied it was strictly a scientific explorer,” Bart said.
“Did you ask?” Jeff wondered. “I’ve noticed some reporters do that now and again. Though I admit it isn’t always welcome.”
“Do you have any proof of that to offer?” he asked.
“That’s your third question,” Jeff pointed out. “I’ll answer it, but the Australian gentleman has been most restrained allowing you to go on. I intend to let him question me next. We have good enough technology to remote sense the weapons. I certainly don’t intend to explain the details of our advanced sensors to you. I have video of our hired security people ripping the weapons out of the Constitution you may have. I know the Chinese have some of the damned things too, but I’m not sure about other nations. Of course, our video could have been computer-generated or staged. You can’t tell with today’s tech. They could be hollow props too. But if you wish, you are welcome to come back to the Moon with us and inspect them yourself. They are stored quite a few kilometers down where it is unlikely any weapon could reach them. I don’t know if you’ve ever disassembled a nuclear weapon, you could supply your own tool kit and detectors or use ours. I’d suggest really good isolation gear. Plutonium is nasty stuff. There is also the problem that your government people might get testy about you seeing the guts of their secret weapon.”
Jeff looked a question at him.
“I’ll pass on that, thank you.”
“What do you want to know?” Jeff asked the fellow from Victoria Vantage.
“I’m Leo Champion. What gives you the right to tell us where we can travel off Earth, armed or not?”
“Two reasons,” Jeff said. “We live here. Both North America and China tried to tell us where they would allow us to park our habitats. My sovereign blew an entire fleet of Chinese ships out of her sky that were trying to enforce that on behalf of the UN. You might have noticed the UN has also fallen on hard times over that. North America is still by their word at war with us. They have certainly taken war shots at me as recently as a couple of years ago. That’s why my fellow peer and partner April bombarded Vandenberg. You can’t really continue in a state of war and shoot at people when the urge strikes, but expect they won’t shoot back.
“We can tell you where you may take armed ships because we can stop you. That simple. Isn’t that evident from the fact we intercepted the most advanced star capable USNA Space Force vessel and disarmed it? They could not defend themselves from us.”
“One more question?” Leo requested.
“Sure, that will put you on a par with the Mouse,” Jeff said. “Then by rights, Ms. Regis should have another chance to be fair about it.”
“Isn’t your invoking the risk of provoking aliens rather fanciful if not flat out science fiction?” Leo Champion asked. He didn’t quite sneer.
“What else was the purpose of carrying long range ship killer missiles if not the fear of aliens?” Jeff reasoned. “They certainly were no use against us and if they found aliens with tech as advanced as ours or better, they’d have simply provoked them. In any case, we’ve seen both active alien starships and wrecks,” Jeff said.
“I don’t believe you,” Leo said
“I don’t care,” Jeff replied. “Ms. Regis, have you any sensible questions?”
“Would you try to negotiate this divide with North America if they came to the table in good faith to discuss it?”
“I’m only a peer and spox to my sovereign. I’d have to take such a major matter that impinges on her justice to her. But as you saw today, I’m not unapproachable. I’m in the public com directory, as is April here. No official has expressed any desire for such a discussion. I suspect that to treat with us would be seen as conferring some aura of legitimacy in their minds. It’s rather hard to talk to people with whom you are still exchanging fire, so we’d need at least a cease-fire. I’m not sure where we’d both feel safe to meet for such a discussion. Certainly not North America. The last time our banking friend Irwin Hall made an emergency landing in North America they arrested him. The different factions of the government don’t even coordinate, so we can’t trust them to even have a policy they’ll consistently follow.”
“But you wouldn’t rule it out?” Beth asked.
“No, I’m sorry, I thought I made that clear. It would just be extremely difficult.”
“Is your animus for Earthies a barrier?” Beth threw out uninvited.
“Why no,” Jeff said surprised. “I don’t particularly like Earthies, but I do business with people who I don’t like all the time. It’s only necessary they fulfill their contracts honestly. Requiring friendship and camaraderie would rather limit business.”
“Surely, that is sufficient for them to pound out some copy,” April said.
“I believe so, Dear,” Jeff agreed. His eyes thanked her for tearing him away.
* * *
“Damn him, for sounding so reasonable,” the Secretary of Defense snarled.
“How are the crew doing?” the National Security Advisor asked.
“The commander still can’t walk unassisted. They think he may have suffered a small stroke in the brain stem from neck compressions. His number two is going to be retired. He may never recover mentally from the ordeal and tells anybody who will listen how he will kill his commander if they ever let him see the man. He repeatedly advised against tumbling the ship on two axes to keep the Homies from boarding. He will have private nursing care provided, that doubles as quiet security.”
“Singh didn’t deny they destabilized the Constitution,” the NSA said.
“Why would he?” the Secretary asked. “The reporters didn’t bring it up and the claim never made any sense.”
“State is making noises about holding talks with the Moon Queen,” the SoD said.
“Never going to happen,” the NSA said.
“I agree. It will be sabotaged somehow. Just putting one person in the delegation who will queer the whole deal will do. The head of the Space Force perhaps. He’d oppose any deal that doesn’t somehow involve the Spacers surrendering to us even though they obviously have the upper hand. He’s delusional.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. The Moon Queen would never consent to be personally involved unless she sat across the table from the President as her equal, and was accorded all the honors and respect due to any head of state,” the NSA said. “The other two have always dealt with the public and she has remained in the background. I suspect that makes people underestimate her.”
“Speaking of the President, how does he regard this?” The SoD asked.
“Who knows? I spoke to him last night and he indicated the trout are biting like they’ve never fed before, and summer in Canada is glorious, even if you or I would regard it as God-forsaken scrub infested with black flies.”
The Secretary just grimaced. “Talk about delusional. The Queen is as delusional as Singh. She’s a child. Nobody takes her seriously playing the queen.”
“She takes herself most seriously. Perhaps you never read those briefings supplied you, but she shares personal control of weapons systems that can reduce any first-world nation to third world beggar status. She’s twenty-something but that child isn’t stupid enough to let you get all three of them in the same room. Not unless it is her own safe room deep enough in the Moon you can’t reach it with a nuke. The Chinese tried.”
“So she’d send who? That Singh fellow we just watched?” the Secretary asked. “That might kill any deal as well as sending Dawson, Head of the Space Force. I don’t know much about that little twerp’s personality, but I can see arrogance written all over him.”
Or you could just look in a mirror
, the NSA thought behind his smile.
* * *
“You didn’t jump in and add anything,” Jeff said in the lift.
“You were handling it just fine,” April said.
“I would have welcomed a sarcastic snicker or asking how we could trust the Earthies again after they proved false so many times before,” Jeff said.
“No, you played it just right. You left the burden on them to match your level of decorum and reasonableness. If they manage, it will just kill them to act that way. I am glad you made it clear we won’t be visiting North America. I just wouldn’t do it.”
“To make any diplomatic overture, they’d have to acknowledge Central and Heather as a legitimate government. I think that’s as likely as them dropping the dollar and adopting the solar as their national currency.”
* * *
“I can’t see any downside to it,” Diana said. “All either of them can say is no, and no matter how they phrase it or excuse it that will look terrible to much of the world. You and the Hawaiian Republic look golden even if both of them refuse.”
“Now if I can only persuade my own people,” Nick said.
Diana looked up at him sharply. “Nick, sweetie, I don’t give you advice about your work very often,” she started.
“No, no, I was asking,” Nick said. “I’d welcome a deeper analysis than just whether the basic idea has merit.”
Diana nodded. “The idea of a peace conference is Nobel Prize winning good. The danger from all your fellow officials is not a lack of cooperation but that they will say it is the province of their department, squeeze you out, and take all the credit. Within a week of providing the idea, you will be deeply buried in the footnotes of history.”
“Ah, I can see that happening. What does it have to do with business? Business is just what pays for everything,” Nick said. “We get no respect.”
Diana smiled. “Don’t ask permission. Don’t ask for help,” she advised. “Just do it.”
A12 Who Can Own the Stars? Page 41
