Besides, I need to see for myself what‘s really going on at Promixa, and why the settlers are so desperate to get out.‖
―Let‘s not forget one thing.‖ It was Tito speaking now, for the first time since they had convened. Whenever the Nova did choose to speak, everyone listened, for it was sure to be poignant. ―There‘s still money to be made there as long as settlers remain. We don‘t want to miss out on an opportunity while it‘s still good.‖
―Here, here! So let‘s move like we have a purpose!‖
Kreois clapped his hands, sending them all running for their stations. Within minutes, the ship‘s near-to-light engines were fired up and their course set in. As they settled into their chambers for cryosleep, Zelena couldn‘t help but notice the palatable sense of anticipation that was gripping them. They were heading back into the core, this time for something other than a cargo run. A showdown with Earth, if it was really happening, was something everyone has been anticipating for some time. If it was really happening after all this time, well… but that wasn‘t something she wanted to be thinking about.
Technically, it would be a little over four years before they came to their destination.
Even at full speed, there ship was incapable of surpassing the speed of light. But from their skewed perspective, the journey would be almost instantaneous. It was said no one dreamed while in cryosleep, but Zelena knew from personal experience, there were ghosts that haunted that cold, artificial sleep. What would she dream of this time? Space ships fighting, people 90
dying, their lungs exploding in vacuum as they screamed and fell away into space? Or would she dream of something pleasant before they finally came to their destination and woke to whatever dangers were looming there? Regardless, it would seem like almost no time at all had passed between setting her head down on the thick, spongy pillow to when her unit would wake her up again. Whatever looming conflicts or developments that were taking place in that sector would not wait for them, but hopefully they would be their in time to see it as it as it all unfolded.
The sound of the sonic shower in the background was a nice accompaniment to the soft music wafting in over the room‘s sound system. It was familiar, some sort of Earth jazz he had heard years ago. On his lap, Meares had the documents and contracts that the special envoy from the Apollonian government had given to him. The envelope, an imitation manila folder made from crystal paper with the emblem of a phoenix on the cover, lay on the floor next to his foot. Inside it he had found offers for numerous positions in orbit or across the planet inside, each with additional papers outlining problems they were having in their sectors. It was clear from it all the people were desperate, and willing to go to the mat for someone with the slightest expertise.
It was when he finally leafed through the last of them that he realized just how desperate they were. It seemed that in their haste to pull him and Jana out of detention, they had neglected to check his credentials. All of the applications and info bundles they had provided indicated they were looking specifically for electrical engineers, not mechanical ones. Which meant he would have his hands full when it came time for the interview the envoy had scheduled for him.
Then again, he doubted they would care.
Still, he thought as he looked around the room again, it would be a shame to lose all this.
Worse, it would hell going back to that detention centre in the refugee processing facility, or whatever the hell they called it. Just a few hours in there told him all he needed to know about what they thought of refugees. Nothing in the universe could possibly make him want to go back to that.
The abrupt sound of the shower shutting off told him Jana was finished. A moment later he could hear her footsteps coming up behind him. The next thing he felt was her arms draped over his shoulders and the warm tingle of her breath in his ear. She had donned one of the robes they had thought to provide, a green fleecy coat with the same phoenix emblem that he had seen on the folder. It seemed in bad taste putting it on a bathrobe, but perhaps the insistence said something about Apollonian psychology. Or maybe it was just their way of reminding their guests who was providing for their comfort.
―How‘s it going?‖ she said softly.
―Mmmm, not too good. I think we might have to pad our resumes a little.‖
That made her laugh. Coming around to sit next to him on the divan, she stretched her legs out and began leafing through some of the documents he‘d already tossed aside.
―My God, they‘re having a lot of trouble out here aren‘t they?‖
―Yep,‖ Meares agreed. ―Every electrical system, from avatars to automatons are breaking down all over the place. They simply don‘t have the personnel they need to maintain a civilized existence.‖
―Well,‖ she said, waving her arm around the expanse of the room. ―I‘m not above lying a little if it means we get to keep all this.‖
―Mmm, I get the feeling this is temporary.‖
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Jana picked up another document and noticed the job posting printed on it. She also noticed the relocation notice printed beneath it, how those working the job would have to be willing to move to the orbital platform in question, or at least be willing to make the three hour commute from the surface. That one seemed a good to make her point.
―Ah, you‘re probably right. But as long they think we‘re useful, I‘m sure they‘ll keep us very comfortable.‖ She held the sheet up to his face for emphasis. ―I could see us living happily in one of their finest orbital suites, all we‘d need to do is promise we could make its systems run for awhile.‖
―Yeah, I saw that one too. We should consider it.‖
Jana threw the sheet away and pulled him closer, forcing his full attention on her.
―I‘m serious Patrician. We wanted to start over here and now we can. Who cares if what they want from us is a little – a little – out of our fields. We can make it work, and it‘s not like we have a lot of options anyway.‖
―I know,‖ Meares said, laying down the last of the crystal paper sheets on the arm of the couch. ―It just it seems a little too good to be true, you know? After all we went through to get here, suddenly things turn in our favour.‖
Jana looked to be considering that, and nodded in partial agreement. While their change in fortunes had been rather sudden and surprising, she didn‘t see any reason why that should entail suspicion. Things could be much worse, which was reason enough to be happy.
―Don‘t look a gift horse in the mouth Patric,‖ she said, even though Patric clearly didn‘t understand.
―What does that even mean?‖
―An old saying, I‘ll explain it to you someday. You understand what I mean though, right? We‘ve been given something, sooner than we expected, and we should make the most of it. So let‘s look through these together and make a decision. Let‘s decide where we‘re going to spend the next few years of our life.‖
Patric looked deep into her eyes. In them he saw all the love and reassurance he could ever need at a time like this. The decision was certainly a heavy one. He could feel the weight bearing down on him like he was walking on the surface of a gas giant. But feeling her touch and her body close to him, so full of optimism, he couldn‘t help but feel lucky.
―Alright,‖ he said at last. ―Let‘s do it! Let‘s go through them all together and pick the one we like best!‖
―Now that‘s the man I know,‖ she said, raising her eyebrows suggestively. ―But that can wait for awhile. Let‘s go to bed.‖
―But I‘m not tired.‖ No sooner had he said the words did he realize how foolish he sounded. Luckily, Jana forgave him, and in her most seductive tone replied:
―Neither am I.‖
Before Adnan, a long line of young people, boys and girls, stood, most of whom were accompanied by their parents. But for this occasion, only his mother had chosen to come with him. Above them, a large sign read Ministerial Internship, and below that a small blurb on how internship yielded opportunities for the future. He paid it and the propaganda films that were running on nearby monitors little attention; he had heard them all before. The recruiter had spoken much of the same slogans he heard over them, as did his parents after a private discussion many nights ago. But Adnan knew who was behind the decision to send him here. He suspected it was just an excuse to send him away somewhere where he wouldn‘t have to deal with him for 92
a few years. And then, if all worked out as planned, Adnan would come home, normal and no longer troublesome to his family and teachers. Perhaps he was being childish about it all but it felt like a death sentence.
―Don‘t worry,‖ Najeela whispered to him and squeezed his hand. ―You‘ll have fun out there. You‘ll get to see the planets, the stars, the comets, and all the colonies. You‘ll see how other people live and how the administration works. This will be good for you Addy.‖
―I know,‖ he muttered in response, adding: ―I thought you weren‘t supposed to call me that anymore.‖
―What, dearest?
―Addy. You called me that, and you‘re not supposed to.‖
―Oh, aren‘t I?‖ she said innocently.
―No, father said you were coddling me, and that you needed to start treating me like a man because that‘s what I‘ll be before long.‖
Najeela turned her head away to hide her reaction. She had forgotten how clever her son could be, and apparently how good he was at overhearing things. Then he must have also known that she had protested the decision to send her son away, how she had resisted it at first but was now trying to put a happy face on it. Waiting a moment to let the blushing episode pass, she looked back at him and persisted in her efforts.
―Think of it as an adventure, son. After a few years as an intern, you‘ll be able to be apprenticed in some area of the service and that could lead to a lifetime in the Ministry. You would be ensured a position for life, and you would make your father and I very happy.‖
―Then I should be happy too.‖
Najeela‘s face soured when he said this. She was trying her best, but the boy seemed intent on being morose. For a moment, he wondered if she might actually be angry with him.
She did not scold him or threaten to hit him; instead, she just went quiet. In all his life, he had never seen mother get angry with him, that honour was reserved for the man of their house. No matter what he said or how he pleaded, father always seemed intent on ―making a man out of him‖ as he put it. It occurred to Adnan for the first time that this might be just as difficult for her. Rethinking his last statement, he tried finding some words that might encourage her as well.
―I will make you proud, mama. I want you to be happy.‖
Najeela looked back at him and tried to smile. After some more words of reassurance, they were called to the front of the line to submit his application. Najeela did all the speaking, and handed the man in the booth the papers they had filled out for him the night before. The man took one look at Adnan then read the sheet, raising an eyebrow and lifting the small implant he wore above it.
―Planetary development, eh? Nice choice, young man! Plenty of fun and adventure out there on new worlds! New for you anyway.‖ the man said jokingly. Adnan smiled at him, he looked like some strange caricature. In addition to the implant, there were also several small machine parts attached to his vest and running down the length of his arm. Adnan wasn‘t even sure if the man was entirely human, but somewhere he had heard about government functionaries using implants to be able to access information and keep things stored efficiently in their brains.
The man then quickly reviewed his sheet and ran it under a small scanning light he had mounted at his wrist. When that was done, he gave Adnan another smile and made some more small-talk, mainly praising his decision to join. Adnan smiled ironically during it all, wishing he could say he had no real choice in the selection process. From the description he had read, it sounded quite interesting, but it would still have been nice to have been consulted. But not to 93
wanting to further embarrass his mother, he simply held his tongue. And she was too busy asking the man questions to be disturbed at the moment.
―When will his first leave be?‖
―Well, you‘ve applied for special holidays I see,‖ the man said, accessing the information in his head. ―First leave would coincide with Ramadan then, first week-end. However, further details will have to wait, as the Ministry has authority over where he‘ll be stationed and for how long.‖
―When will we know?‖
―A few weeks, in which time you‘ll be informed of where he‘ll be stationed for the first leg of his internship. You‘ll also be given instructions on where to bring him so we can pick him up and ship him out with the other youths who enrolled.‖
―How many other children will there be?‖ Najeela asked. The questions just kept coming. Adnan could see that the man was used to this and simply took them all in stride, smiling benevolently with each reply.
―Don‘t worry ma‘am. Everything will be made clear before the boy ships out. The Ministry may be large, but we‘re nothing if not organized.‖
―I see, of course,‖ she said apologetically, eying the man‘s implants. They then bid him goodbye and turned to let the next group of people come forward to register. On their way out, his mother tried again to be comforting, but he could tell it was as much for her benefit as his own.
―You see, son. There‘s no reason to worry. Everything will be fine.‖
―Yes,‖ he said, nodding. ―No reason at all. I‘ll be fine, mama, I promise.‖
―And you‘ll get a chance to meet lots of other interesting people, and you heard what he said too, you‘ll be home to see us very soon.‖
―Yes, mama. I know, everything will be fine.‖
Najeela smiled awkwardly. Was she trying to comfort him or was he comforting her?
She couldn‘t tell anymore, and once again she was left wondering how her son had become so strangely perceptive. She decided to take her own advice, and convinced herself yet again that there was some wisdom, however callous, in what his father had planned for him. At the very least the Ministry might find a niche for him out there, or a suitable use for his talents that would make him feel more confident with himself. The last few years had been hard on him, and some growth experience might be just what he needed. But in the meantime, she still had a few weeks to wish him well.
―Come on, Addy,‖ she said, deliberately forgetting his father‘s injunction. ―Let‘s go home. I want to make sure you‘re well fed before they ship you off. God only knows what kind of food they serve out there in space.‖
I can‘t imagine life without all this, Arayus thought as he stood hovering over the capitol. On the balconies and in the streets beneath him, the people had poured out to witness the procession, the celebration marking his retirement. After a life of service, they had come from all over the system to bid him farewell. Although the mood was characterized for the most part by sadness at his departure, for others, it was a chance to bid him a bitter farewell. Protesters had already been sequestered outside the main procession route, and some arrests were made. Others who were beneath him felt the same way, he knew, but luckily they chose to keep those feelings to themselves. Not all approved of his parsimonious measures during the twenty some years that 94
he had been their Executive, but he surmised that they would all look back on his reign with nostalgia some day.
Yes, he told himself, they‟ll be sorry they ever got rid of me.
It was an unprecedented move, members of the Conservative people‘s party turning on their own leader. One would think such behaviour to be the province of the liberal-minded.
Nevertheless, the greater part of his cabinet had made it clear that they wanted him to step down.
They also made no pretence as to who his successor would be. It was for this reason alone that only one of them stood with him now, aside from a single security guard, as they floated above the city in an exhibition carriage. Somehow, and even though he had openly participated in the coup, only Aaronson‘s company seemed desirable for the occasion. Although a constant source of pain, right up until the very end; with Aaronson, he always knew where he stood. Just once more, he wanted a little honesty.
Though he stood on the precipice of the platform, next to the sloping front window, his eyes remained on the horizon and the dozen or so police and security cruisers that guided the procession. His future was somewhere out there, away from Earth. He hadn‘t decided where yet, but that was secondary next to policy concerns; which, subsequently, was the current topic of conversation with Aaronson.
―So, any new initiatives this boy of yours is planning on spearheading? Or has his youthful idealism not infected the ranks yet?‖
―Don‘t be so dramatic,‖ Aaronson said as he leaned with one shoulder up against the carriage‘s far wall. ―I think we can assume the next administration will continue in the footsteps of the current one. Only the face will change, and that‘s what‘s important right now.‖
―So this really isn‘t about policy then?‖
Aaronson didn‘t answer right away. It was obvious to him Arayus was fishing. He understood perfectly well why his career was coming to an end, he just wanted some sort of admission. He needed to have some measure of victory to take with him before he went away from Earth, never to return as anything other than a casual tourist or visiting dignitary. And if not a victory, maybe some sour grapes. Those would suffice, considering the man.
―Well then,‖ Arayus continued, ―I guess we can all rest happy in the knowledge that the next generation of leadership will benefit from the wisdom of the old, and be able to take credit for it since they won‘t even be around.‖
―Alright, that‘s enough. This is undignified Mr. Executive, sir. And I can continue to call you that for the time being, so please don‘t say anything sarcastic about it.‖
―Oh, I wouldn‘t think of it,‖ Arayus replied, lamenting that Aaronson had beat him to it.
Something in the nature of how it was an irony for him to be using that title certainly would have been appropriate; he guessed he would have to wait for another opportunity.
―Besides,‖ Aaronson went on, ―its not about policy or wisdom, its about accountability.‖
―Accountability?‖ Arayus spat as he turned his back to the crowds beneath him. ―What did I do that was so wrong?‖
Aaronson shrugged and answered as simply as he could. It sounded like he had some time to think about it, or maybe he had just thought so for a long time now.
―You stayed in office too long. Nobody can hold onto the office forever, it‘s a law of nature. The people always bring down those same individuals they elevate above them. Nothing personal.‖
Arayus snorted and turned back to the window. Looking below again, he noticed they were moving away from the centre of the capitol now and into one of the surrounding burrows.
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Attendance was beginning to thin out now, and the crowd looked plainer and less formal.
Nothing personal, he thought. Politics was always personal. Did the people take it personally whenever he told them he was curtailing their consumption? Did they take it personally when he chose to crack down on those who didn‘t respect the limits placed on them? Of course they did!
And his personnel certainly took it personally whenever he put them in their place, whenever he was forced to remind them that he was in charge and not them.
So maybe he did something to deserve this, or at least to warrant it. Thirty years was a good run, but to end it like this. History would record that in his last year as Executive, his cabinet had turned on him. It would exalt the backstabbers who rallied the moment a rival declared himself, regardless of how under-qualified he was. But at least he would have some measure of vindication when the new boy screwed up, as surely he would. Just then, as the thought made him smile, he realized Aaronson was still talking to him.
―It‘s ironic, the same thing that drives a man to stay in charge is what drives people to bring him down, I guess.‖
―Let me leave you with one warning, Mr. Minister,‖ he interrupted. ―The people have never tolerated incompetence so you better not hope this new administration drops the ball. And second, there are certain advantages to being on the sidelines you know.‖
―Yes, I know,‖ Aaronson sighed. ―And I trust you‘ll be playing them for all their worth, saying ‗I told you so‘ and all that if we fail somehow?‖
―Only if I have to.‖
Arayus couldn‘t see Aaronson‘s expression, but he fully expected the half-smile, half-frown he had become acquainted with over the years. It was whatever he wore whenever someone he found himself being right for expecting the worst of someone. As a pessimist of human nature, he was almost always right, and couldn‘t help but derive a perverse sense of pleasure from it.
―I think I‘ve had just about all I can take from you now, sir, so I‘ll get to the point.‖
―What point?‖
―I didn‘t accept your invitation to be here out of pity, sir. There are some things I need to discuss with the Executive, matters of state.‖
―So talk to your golden boy, leave me to my parade.‖
―I don‘t think you understand sir,‖ Aaronson said, closing the gap between them and joining him at the window. ―These matters are not something that can be put on his untested shoulders. Furthermore, they pertain to something I told you awhile back, so I need to tell you again now. In short, I came here today because I need you to hear me while you‘re still in charge.‖
―Well,‖ Arayus said, feeling genuinely interested all of a sudden. His tone improved as well, like he was feeling officious again. ―What seems to be the matter then, Minister?‖
―We‘re facing a problem with the outer systems,‖ Aaronson said plainly.
―What kind of problems?‖
―I‘m not sure. My sources have been telling me that there‘s a lot of talk and confusion, but it looks like someone‘s moving in on them, sir.‖
Arayus‘ right eyebrow cocked itself involuntarily. The statement was doubly confounding, and he needed to get the smaller matter out of the way before asking the next most obvious thing:
―What sources? Since when have you had sources in the outer colonies?‖
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―For some time now, since it became clear to me that no one in this government was taking my recommendations seriously. But that‘s not important, sir.‖
―Yes, I suppose you‘re right, why would you acting unilaterally matter to me now?‖
Arayus nodded, moving on to the next point. ―So… what exactly have they told you?‖
―Nothing concrete, sir, just stories, rumours really. About ships, sir, ships of unidentified origin that have been spotted here and there, and people getting nervous and booking passage from system to system.‖
―Ships?‖ The word was like a whisper more than anything else as it came from Arayus‘
mouth. It almost felt like the air in the cabin was becoming colder, the walls having inadvertently cracked and letting outside air in.
―It gets worse,‖ he continued. ―The local people seem to think they belong to us.‖
―But we…‖ The words were barely out of his mouth before Aaronson completed the thought for him.
―Don‘t have any ships beyond our borders, yes. Which means someone else is out there; someone with a keen interest in expanding into systems adjacent to Earth, and populated by our people.‖
Arayus was silent for a moment, drinking in the shear, crushing implications of the situation. To save time, he did his best to skip past the instinctive denial phase and get right to acceptance. He then forced his mind to come up with the requisite questions for this phase of the problem.
―Do we have any intelligence on these ships yet? Holographics, still pictures, even vague descriptions of what they look like?‖
―Just a few tidbits. I‘ve assembled them and wanted to pass them onto Ministry Intelligence Services. But it needs to be done discreetly, and in such a way that the new government will feel it has a plan prepared for it once the crisis breaks.‖
―So I‘m the only one who knows, outside of you that is?‖
―Yes, sir. I felt letting this information break too soon would be a mistake. We don‘t want a panic on our hands.‖
―And right now, if someone‘s moving in on systems that don‘t belong to us, it makes sense to at least give the appearance of inaction.‖
―At least until we have the means to defend ourselves properly, yes.‖
Arayus took another moment to think it over. It was painfully ruthless, but he found himself nodding once he had finished processing it all. Yes, that was sound planning, he thought. Aaronson had some time to think this through obviously and was proceeding with great care. At last, he realized why he‘d kept the man around for so long. As annoying as he was, he was very good to have in a crisis.
―Where is the package now?‖ he asked, looking for some sign of it on Aaronson.
―It‘s safe,‖ he said, folding his arms over his chest. ―But I think it could be supplemented a little. It needs your authorization for that part of things, and then I‘ll take the rest.‖
―What would you need?‖
―Just the means to collect more information so when the time comes, we can draft some policy recommendations. But that needs some interdepartmental cooperation. My sources need some help from the Ministry of Defence and the intelligence services, naturally. They know how to go about this stuff far better than we do.‖
―And then what do you plan to do?‖
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―Assemble all the information we‘ve collected and have the Ministry of Defence ready to present it to the Cabinet once this threat fully materializes. Once the public knows about these new ships, it would be good for Defence to have a plan ready to be implemented.‖
Arayus paused once more to drink it all in. Once again, he had to suppress the urge to reject all he was being told, and to lash out at the messenger. But sound decision making was what was needed now, not instinctive reactions. And in that spirit, there were plenty of rational objections Arayus could raise. He started with the first one that came to mind.
―We‘re not just talking about simple policy here are we? There will need to be some serious preparations made to our defences. New weapons, more ships, and the like. Have you considered that?‖
Aaronson made a quirky smile again. This time it was not so much ironic, more like an indication of the obvious.
―Yes, I have. A