by S. H. Jucha
Maria signaled Alex not to respond. “Mr. President, with what the Omnians accomplished with the Swei Swee, Dischnya, Talusians, and myriad other races, why would you think that?” she asked. “As I understand it, there’s only one human world in alliance space, the Pyreans. Alex, I assume delegates of the alliance’s governing bodies will be invited.”
“Yes, they will be,” Alex replied to Maria, but his eyes never left the president’s face.
Renée sent privately to Alex.
Gerhardt took a long sip on his drink to stall his response. The drink was a perfectly prepared cocktail, with a hint of stimulant, which he relished. Before he could speak, Renée offered an option.
“If you feel this is inopportune for your presidency, there is a perfect alternative to you attending the conclave,” Renée proposed.
“And what would that be?” Gerhardt asked politely.
“Not what, but whom,” Renée replied. “Send Maria and Oliver in your place.”
The idea appealed to Gerhardt. Maria was already affiliated with the Omnians, who had demonstrated a preference for racial inclusion. After her return from the conclave, he would always have the choice of embracing her attendance or denouncing it, depending on which way public sentiment swung.
“That’s feasible,” Gerhardt said guardedly. “I’d have to put strictures in place.”
“What sort of strictures?” Alex inquired.
“Well, I can’t have Maria acting as an entitled envoy,” Gerhardt replied. “There are too many unknowns about your conclave. I would see her role as attending and reporting to me the ideas proposed and their acceptance by the leaders.”
“You would see her in a passive role,” Renée said, seeking to clarify and make the president defend his statement.
“I don’t see any other option,” Gerhardt replied. “However, to understand the possible subjects that might be discussed by the conclave leaders, I’d like to return to the subject of the gates.”
“What do you wish to know?” Alex asked.
“Can you replicate the technology?” Gerhardt inquired.
The president’s implant received the image of a Messinant dome. Then a second image displayed two platforms. A succession of short vids showed humans and SADEs adding a third platform and coupling its gate.
“What am I seeing?” Gerhardt.
“Records from the installation of a new platform, and the coupling of its gate to a distant dome,” Julien replied. “These domes were built by an ancient race called Messinants.”
“So you’re not theorizing. Adding new gates to existing domes is feasible?” inquired Gerhardt, which intrigued Maria and Oliver.
“At the time the fleet sailed, that was as far as the engineering teams had progressed,” Alex replied. “They installed some twenty-eight pairs of gates for a group within the alliance called the consortium. They might have discovered more secrets about the domes since we left.”
“How does adding a new gate to an existing dome become a subject for the leaders of Earth or the human colonies?” Gerhardt asked.
Alex pointedly regarded Maria, who attempted not to wince. She didn’t need a message from Alex. The new president wasn’t only young and inexperienced, he lacked imagination. Alex’s unsent message would have been: “How did this man get elected?”
Gerhardt watched the interplay between Alex and Maria, and he resisted the urge to fidget. It was obvious to him that he’d missed something critical, and he quickly reviewed his last question. The error became obvious, and he castigated himself. He’d been so busy positing political positioning that he’d failed to take part in the heart of the discussion.
“I apologize for my question,” Gerhardt quickly said. “My thoughts were temporarily diverted to my next appointment, which promises to be grueling.”
“President Thurman, we’re failing to reach an understanding,” Alex said, laying down his utensil. “We’ll be visiting with Maria for another day or two. Contact us if you have a change of heart.”
Before Gerhardt could object, five individuals rose, quickly descended the stairs, and marched through the lower level of the resplendent restaurant. Their purposeful steps and grim faces broadcast to the patrons that the meeting with the president had been unsuccessful.
As the group approached their waiter, the young man tentatively raised an invoicing reader.
Julien connected to the reader, located their bill, and paid it with a generous tip.
When the reader silently cued the waiter’s ear comm, he glanced at the paid bill and smiled at the group, as they passed.
Oliver sent.
The group ceased conversations, as they rode the lift, and Julien signaled the traveler pilot.
The pilot warned away the flitting grav cars. The controllers of the small cars obeyed the traveler’s powerful signal, and the cars held station at a safe distance from the rooftop. Floating a half meter above the rooftop, the pilot dropped the hatch, and Alex lifted Renée into the ship’s interior, while Oliver did the same for Maria.
Then Alex heard, “May we help?”
Swinging his head left and right, Alex saw Julien and Oliver sporting concerned expressions and extending their hands. The offers had Alex roaring with laughter, as he launched his mass halfway up the hatch steps before his feet hit. Then he bounded through the hatch.
In the upper level of Seclusion, Gerhardt prepared for his exit. He intended to walk casually and demonstrate confidence, hoping to project the aura that he knew how to handle the Omnians. That had been the plan, but as he walked among the patrons, they peppered him with questions. What did the Omnians want? Why was Maria Gonzalez included in the meeting? Why did the Omnians walk out?
Gerhardt’s confidence faltered. He hadn’t been prepared to reply. By the time he exited what had been his dream appointment, he vowed to delete his recording after a single review.
Aboard the traveler and headed for Maria’s home, Alex turned to regard Julien and Oliver. “You two are suspiciously quiet,” he said.
“Plotting,” Julien replied, which had Maria’s attention.
“Do tell?” Alex queried. His grin was broad, and Renée chuckled at his enthusiasm.
“Oliver has done some detailed analysis on the voting populace,” Julien replied.
“The turnout for the election was minim
al,” Oliver explained. “It was the lowest in decades.”
“Admittedly, neither candidate was popular,” Maria offered.
“So we have a large swath of the citizenry who cared for neither candidate and might be amenable to a different direction,” Alex mused.
“You’re not thinking of deposing President Thurman?” Maria asked. She gazed from the SADEs to Alex and back.
“Nothing so overt,” Julien replied calmly.
“Borrowing a concept from Alex and Julien, while the Rêveur was under repair, we thought a little media intervention might be required,” Oliver offered.
“Shades of ancient history,” Renée remarked sourly. She often recalled those earliest days with regret. Julien and she had argued over Captain Racine’s appropriateness to represent them to New Terra. Julien had been Alex’s supporter. Initially, she hadn’t been.
Alex, who knew Renée’s thoughts about their first meetings, leaned over and kissed her temple.
“How would this work?” Maria inquired.
“We thought a systemwide survey was required,” Julien replied.
“You’d query the populace on the subject of the conclave, and then what?” Maria prompted.
“The results would be sent to every voting adult, regardless of whether they’d participated,” Oliver replied.
“Which would include the president, the ministers, and every representative,” Alex said, laughing. “It’s devious, without subverting opinions.”
Long after the traveler had landed at Maria’s house, the group worked on the survey. Maria prepared a meal for the humans. With Gerhardt’s disruptive attitudes about the conclave and Maria’s possible attendance, there hadn’t been time to enjoy the Seclusion’s fare.
When they were satisfied with the survey, Julien and Oliver infiltrated every media outlet across the system. They published the survey and installed the means to collect the responses. Each media source would receive their responses, but the results would be copied to the SADEs.
At one of the most popular vid media empires, a tech notified the station manager of the strange request that was being sent to every viewer. The station manager commed the media company’s owner.
The owner, Charlotte Sanderson, was an old hand who had worked her way up from reporter to producer to board director to owner. When she received the message, she smiled to herself. “SADEs,” she whispered. Then she told the manager to let the survey run, knowing he’d be powerless to stop it.
Across the system, managers watched the survey run and were thrilled with the levels of response. The participation was enormous and became the subject of news reports the following day.
Julien and Oliver combined the media responses into a single message and delivered the summary to every adult within the system.
President Thurman was apprised of the survey the moment it appeared on his assistant’s reader. He knew who was behind it, but he didn’t have an immediate reaction. Instead, he was curious about the outcome. There was no doubt in his mind that the citizens would know who had initiated the survey, which gave him room to maneuver, depending on the results.
Late in the evening, Charlotte Sanderson pulled her wafer-thin reader from her sleeve. She ran her finger along the top edge and the reader straightened and became rigid. The manager who’d first reported the survey had signaled her that a summary had been issued to all viewers. He’d said, “I think you’ll find it interesting reading.”
Charlotte sought the summary and opened it. The original survey had read:
Would you want New Terra to be part of a conclave of worlds in the coming annual?
If the conclave included aliens, would you still want New Terra to take part in it?
President Thurman believes he can’t attend now due to the constraints of his office. Would you find Envoy Maria Gonzalez an acceptable representative?
If there was the possibility for New Terra to have instantaneous travel to other worlds via quantum-coupled gates, which are in use in alliance space, would you wish New Terra to have them?
To the first question, the overwhelming majority had responded yes. However, the positive response dipped for the second question, but it still represented sixty-three percent of the citizenry. The totals hit over ninety percent for Maria, and the last question generated about the same response as the question about aliens at the conclave.
“Well, President Thurman, let’s see what you have to say about the survey and the responses,” Charlotte murmured, as she sent a request to Gerhardt’s office for an interview. As one of the most powerful media principals on New Terra, she expected to have her request approved, and she wasn’t disappointed.
The next morning, Charlotte arrived at Government House with her support staff. She walked through the familiar rotunda with its larger-than-life statue of a man in an ancient ship’s uniform. His physique was significantly slighter than modern New Terrans, but his features were similar. His somber expression stared into the distance. He was Lem Ulam, captain of the colony ship New Terra.
An employee led Charlotte and her crew to the president’s formal briefing room. Surprisingly, she found several prominent media hosts already present. Obviously, the president had his assistant call other media outlets to ensure that he had broad coverage.
When the president began, he read a prepared statement. Essentially, he related the survey and the summary without comment. Then he allowed two questions from each media guest.
Charlotte smiled to herself at the president’s efforts to control the media and his determination to place her last in the queue. She knew that he was aware of her opinion of him. She’d favored neither candidate in the last election.
“Charlotte, I believe it’s your turn,” Gerhardt said magnanimously, when the other media personages had had their opportunities.
“I’ve no questions, President Thurman,” Charlotte replied. “It’s obvious that you’re refusing to comment on the meaning of the survey and the responses. I’ll be filing my own op-ed based on what that means.”
“That’s rather unfair of you,” Gerhardt replied, trying to turn the tables on Charlotte.
“If you care to comment on the possibility of a conclave and a New Terran delegate attending, it wouldn’t be,” Charlotte retorted.
“I’ve said all that I care to say on the subject,” Gerhardt said, by way of dismissal.
“Then, in the absence of substantive government information, you leave it to me and these other media personnel to hazard guesses about your silence. By now, you should know what that means,” Charlotte said, with finality.
“Thank you for coming,” Gerhardt said to his audience. Then with a bright smile and a confident walk, he left the briefing room.
As Charlotte walked the corridor to the rotunda, a middle-aged media host sidled up to her.
“Gerhardt makes you wish to have Harold Grumley back in office,” the woman said.
“Grumley had his weaknesses, but he’d have joined the conclave in a heartbeat,” Charlotte admitted.
“If I’d said what you told the president, I’d probably have lost my job,” the media host admitted.
“The privileges of owning your own company. Then again, you have many other headaches,” Charlotte replied.
“Are you really going to write your own op-ed, and will it castigate Gerhardt?” the woman asked.
“I won’t have to lift a finger,” Charlotte replied and smiled secretively.
“Why not?” the host asked.
Charlotte knew the media host to be a popular individual to New Terran citizenry, but she was notorious for stealing stories whenever she could, and Charlotte had no intention of sharing what she believed would happen. “Wait and see,” she said to the host.
The women had reached the rotunda, and Charlotte paused to gaze at Lem Ulam’s statue, as she usually did, while the media host walked on.
“Lem, I think you brought some of the best and the worst of Earth’s colonists and genes wi
th you,” Charlotte whispered. Then she briefly shook her head in dismay before she joined her crew.
As Charlotte expected, the president drafted his own opinion piece and distributed it to the media outlets. He sought to cut off negative opinions from media hosts by stating that after due consideration and the wishes of the majority of citizens, he elected to have New Terra join the conclave. In addition, due to the rigors of his office, he would be sending Envoy Maria Gonzalez in his place.
There was one quick comm call that Gerhardt made before he sent his press release out.
Alex was on his second plate in Maria’s kitchen, and he circled his finger in the air. Immediately, Julien linked the others.
Gerhardt sent.
Recognizing the opening of a capitulatory call, Alex remained silent and let the president vent.
Gerhardt’s implant noted the addition of bio IDs and comm IDs. He realized that individuals had been listening, but a SADE had masked their participation.
Oliver added,
Gerhardt chewed his lower lip, which was a habit his marketing director had constantly urged him to control. He knew if he announced Maria’s participation, and she publicly declined the invitation, the media would destroy him for fumbling the opportunity. The requirement to send a SADE with the delegate hampered Gerhardt’s choices. Briefly, he wondered if Oliver would attend the conclave with another choice, but, as quickly as he thought of the idea, he eliminated it.
