The Unincorporated Future (56 page)

When the operation was done, it occurred to someone in the Alliance fleet that the obsolete observatory would actually make a useful neutral ground. After some brief discussions, two teams returned and prepared the location for its new purpose, and the fleets were repositioned to keep accidents from happening.

And that was how Admiral Janet Delgado Black and Admiral Samuel U. Trang met for the first time. It was on the Moon, and the two were separated only by a simple table. Fatima Awala and Tabitha Ross were the only other personnel present in the room. Sandra O’Toole had agreed with J.D. that this was not a meeting she should be at. If this peace was going to work, both admirals would have to sell it for all it was worth, and Sandra realized they wouldn’t be able to do that without checking each other out first—one on one, face-to-face.

Each entered from opposite sides of the room. They both stood for a long moment and sized each other up, as if studying a particularly complicated piece of sculpture. Both seemed to absorb every detail they could, making what judgments they could, and then, as if hearing a mutual silent bell, saluted each other at the same moment. Then and only then did the pressure ease slightly, and they both sat down with their aides standing far enough behind not to be obtrusive but close enough to respond if needed.

“Welcome to Luna, Admiral Black,” Trang said dryly.

“I’m sorry it had to be like this, Admiral Trang.” J.D. swept her arm to encompass everything. “What’s going to happen to this place?” she asked, delaying one painful question for another.

“Well,” he answered with a half smile, “there are a lot of Martians that you made homeless. If we work this out, one way or another, they can always move in here.”

J.D. ignored the slight and the implied threat. “They’re welcome to it. There’s too much death here.”

It seemed that Trang was about to say something, but he held back and after a moment his face changed from slightly hostile to sad. “There
is
too much death here. But what choice did we have?”

“With the Martian refugees, none I guess. But we have other choices to make now. When war becomes what we’ve made it, the only thing that matters are those who do the fighting. And those who do the fighting listen to us. So what are we going to do, Admiral?”

Trang sighed. “That is easy for you to say. You have your President and by extension your government backing your every move.”

The echo of J.D.’s laugh bounced around the room. “Just up and leave the solar system? Do you think that’ll be popular? Many people in the Alliance think we’re winning this war—” She paused briefly. “—idiots.”

“Hell, you are winning this war if you base it on the numbers,” Trang said. “In terms of effective population and industrial capacity, we’re about equal and you might recover faster than us. You have the better ships and crews, even if you don’t have enough of them.”

“We have enough, Trang,” J.D. said defensively. But there was no real venom. The warriors had not really come to fight, just negotiate. They were both comfortable disagreeing with each other, and if it really came to it—which neither of them, they realized, really wanted to happen—they’d find out, one way or the other.

“But the President is right. I wasn’t sure until I came here. When I stepped onto this once vibrant and newly dead world, I knew she was right. I think I can beat you, Trang. And I will if I have to,” she said with absolute conviction that only brought a smile of recognition and respect from her opposite number. “But the thing is, I no longer want to. The prize isn’t worth it. Luna proves that some victories come at too high a price, and I will not give my child a slaughterhouse to live in if I have any other choice.”

Trang slid his arm across the table’s metal surface, resting his elbow comfortably on the edge. “Then why fight at all if you don’t want victory?”

“Why fight, indeed? As you well know, the definition of victory is elusive. When we both started out, victory for me was stealing ships from you or sending your feckless admirals home with their tails between their legs. But then you came along, and the stakes suddenly got higher and have continued to do so at an alarming rate. So the answer to your question is, yes, I do want victory—just not the ‘me waving my flag over tens of billions of corpses’ kind of victory. I want the victory of knowing that my child will grow up free of incorporation, left alone to choose her own path in life rather than be voted on by a board of directors.”

Trang remained silent but listened intently, nodding his head all the while.

“The President has shown us the way,” continued J.D. “We need to make it work. I now know I’m willing. But the real question is, are you?”

“It’s not up to me, Admiral. We have to involve my President.”

“You and I both know that Sambianco will only destroy whatever chance at peace we have. He still wants to plant the flag I’m willing to give up. I’ll plant it if I have to, but I’ve been brutally honest with you, Sa— Admiral.”

Trang looked up momentarily at J.D.’s slip, then laughed warmly. “Hell, Janet, since we’ve only been trying to kill each other for six years, it’s also only appropriate we call each other by our first names.”

“Fair enough, Sam.”

“You were saying?”

“I assume you’ve read the reports.”

Trang shifted uncomfortably. “He’s my President. I will not ignore him. Whatever he’s done or not done, he’s the one I swore to serve. I have to include him in this or it will not work.”

“He’s not worthy of your loyalty, Sam.”

“Who said anything about loyalty, Janet?”

Presidential retreat
Lake Geneva

Hektor Sambianco was in his study when he received the report from the grand admiral. It had been confirmed by Tricia and sent to the rest of the Cabinet. The world would know about it soon enough. But as he sat in his well-cushioned reading chair, he was astounded by the depth of the stupidity and treachery being displayed by the man he’d only recently determined he could let live.
So much for that,
he thought.

The grand admiral’s brief was nothing more than a demand that the government of the UHF agree to an armistice. How could Trang not see what the ultimate outcome of this would be? Even if, by some miracle, the Outer Alliance kept its word and actually left the solar system—and Hektor simply did not believe that—it would mean that a significant portion of humanity would be beyond the control of incorporation forever. They would be free to do Damsah knew what, Damsah knew where. It was enough to make a grown man howl. What was the purpose of all this disruption and waste if not to ensure that every human was under corporate control and properly exploited? With a sigh, Hektor tossed the report into the fire.

*   *   *

“Presumably you’ve all read the report.”

“The man should be executed,” said Tricia.

Franklin shook his head. “He is a traitor.”

“A fool to trust the Alliance,” agreed Luciana.

Hektor sat back in his chair impassively. “And that’s why we’re going to kill him.”

Tricia flung some folders over to Hektor’s end of the desk. Hektor peered inside. “Now that I’m in contact with my operatives on the
Liddel,
he can be assassinated within the hour, sir.”

Irma shook her head. “That’s insane.”

“Irma is absolutely correct,” said Hektor, cutting off an impending diatribe from Tricia. “If he were to be killed by our operatives or even suffer an accident right now, how do you think Zenobia Jackson will react?”

“We kill her too,” said Tricia.

“Then who fights the Alliance?” asked Irma contemptuously. “You can’t kill
everybody.
”

Tricia smiled acidly to her antagonist. “Not for lack of trying.”

“Again, Irma is right,” said Hektor. “We need Jackson, and if Trang dies, she is very likely to take our fleet and blast the crap out of
us.
This will have to be more subtle and directed. I’m going to publicly agree to Trang’s report and to meet with him immediately. If possible, we’ll have J. D. Black
and
Sandra O’Toole at the summit. It would be better if they show up, but not needed. When Trang shows up at the summit, we kill him but make it look like the Alliance did it. We can even blame it on avatars or an Alliance operative. So many choices, so little time. We still have those three spies. We’ll psyche-audit one to confess to the plot, and the bodies of the other two be found nearby with enough evidence to mount a convincing story—which is where you’ll come in, Irma.”

“It won’t hold. It’s too flimsy. Any real investigation will prove the Alliance had nothing to with it.”

“Who cares?” said Tricia, looking toward Hektor. “By the time anyone figures that out, the Battle of Earth will have taken place and we’ll be well on our way to exterminating the Outer Alliance once and for all.”

“No,” Irma said, staring intently at everyone in the room. “No, Hektor, that’s enough. It won’t work. Every time we try something like this, it doesn’t work. Trang is offering us a way to get real peace. Peace within the solar system. If the Alliance is crazy enough to leave, then I say let them go.”

“You do realize,” said Franklin, eyeing Irma warily, “that is treason.”

“That’s
reason
!” Irma shouted back. “If you do this, J. D. Black will destroy Zenobia and then destroy us.” Irma opened her hands, pleading. “We’re talking about billions more lives—and for what?”

“Humanity must stay united, Irma. You know that,” said Hektor, hoping to reason with his Minister of Information but knowing it was actually hopeless.

“No, no, it mustn’t,” countered Irma. “Not at that price. Let them go, Hektor. For Damsah’s sake, let them go.”

Hektor sighed and nodded toward Tricia. Two guards suddenly appeared from a side door and grabbed Irma firmly by the arms. “You have to let them go!” she was repeatedly heard to yell as they dragged her down the hall and finally out of earshot.

When the door closed, Hektor turned to Tricia. “You’ll take Irma’s job for the time being.”

“That will simplify things, Mr. President,” purred Tricia.

“We need a press release detailing what a wonderful idea Trang has and how I can’t wait to meet him.”

ARMISTICE!

A temporary armistice has been agreed to by the forces of the Outer Alliance and the UHF for the purposes of allowing the civilian leaders of both sides to discuss a peaceful solution to the seven years of conflict and death. Admiral Trang is meeting the President at the President’s residence on Lake Geneva. Afterwards, they will travel to a secret location on Luna, where they will meet the rebel leaders, J. D. Black and Sandra O’Toole. Can this really mean peace?

—
NNN
Special print edition
(Neuro site still under repair)

Grand Admiral Trang walked from his shuttle greeted by the sound of thunderous applause. A crowd in the tens of thousands had surrounded the Presidential retreat in Lake Geneva, where Trang would soon be meeting the President in order to hammer out the details of the armistice.

But Trang could pay little heed to the hopeful, worshipful mob, as his most difficult task lay ahead. Trang was in his dress uniform with his polished pulse pistol and his ceremonial sword. His sash was blinding in the bright sunshine, and for the first time in his long military career, he wore all the ribbons and medals he was entitled to, and they covered his broad chest like a multifaceted river of hues. He stopped briefly to wave, and the crowd roared its approval. Part of him was surprised to see no mediabots. Instead, there were media people holding their bots in special-made cradles. He assumed correctly that it was one more jury-rigged solution forced on humanity by the Avatar Plague. Determined to say a few words of encouragement, Trang stepped up to the installed podium.

“The President,” he began, “recognizes that we have a chance to end this war and, in doing so, unite the solar system. It will take courage and imagination. But the President has guided us this far against enemies seen and enemies unseen, any one of which should have destroyed us all but for his inspired and essential leadership. For the difficult days ahead, we will all need imagination and courage. For as terrible as the war is, for some, peace is yet more terrifying. In war, you do not need to trust. You only need to win or die. The President recognizes that too many have died, and now we must achieve our dream of a united solar system by other means. With negotiation instead of victory, with hope instead of fear, with renewed life instead of ongoing death, we will have peace.”

Grand Admiral Trang entered the main building to applause and shouts so deafening, his ears actually rang.

*   *   *

Hektor Sambianco watched Samuel Trang’s impromptu—if it was impromptu—speech with great satisfaction. When he framed the Alliance for Trang’s assassination, getting the war started again would be no problem. But now he’d have to perform the greatest acting job of his career. He’d have to pretend to like and respect a man he now had only contempt for.