The Unincorporated War (58 page)

“Neela,” he said, interrupting her. “My patient is right over this hill, but,” he said, indicating a park bench, “could we sit here and talk?”

“At this conveniently placed bench?”

“Indeed at this conveniently placed bench.” He sat down and Neela joined him. “My dear, I am afraid to ask this without seeming, well … you see, it’s just that … what I am saying—”

“Thaddeus,” interrupted Neela, “you aren’t saying anything. Out with it or your poor patient will be—”

“Are you having an affair with Hektor Sambianco?” Dr. Gillette blurted out. “Oh, my dear, I am so sorry. That was supposed to be done so much more delicately—” He stopped because Neela was holding her hand to her mouth in a vain attempt to stop from laughing out loud. “There is no need to laugh at me,” said Gillette. “I admit it was a poor attempt at discretion.”

“Oh, Thaddeus,” Neela said through paroxysms of laughter and near tears, “I’m so sorry. You were just so cute trying to be … and then you just—” Neela couldn’t help it. She started giggling uncontrollably again.

Dr. Gillette couldn’t help but smile when he saw how much she was enjoying herself. It reminded him of the Neela he saw so very little of. “I suppose it was a little humorous if looked at a certain way,” he admitted.

“Thank you, Thaddeus. I needed a good laugh and you just gave me two.”

“Two?”

“Of course; the way you asked and the question itself. Is that what people are really saying? How long have I been having this torrid affair?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, if it’s been for a while I want to know. After all, shouldn’t Hektor and I be getting married soon?”

“No one said anything about marriage!”

“Thaddeus,” pouted Neela, “are you saying I’m not worth marrying?”

“Of course you’re not; I mean you could.
No
! What am I saying? Neela, please take this seriously,” he ended up pleading.

Neela took his hands in both of hers. “Thaddeus, how can I? It’s absurd.”

“So you’re not having an affair?” Dr. Gillette asked cautiously, afraid Neela would start again with her antics.

“Eeew,” she said with obvious disgust. “I mean no, no, I am not. I wouldn’t betray Amanda like that, besides the fact that she’d kill me. How could you think that, Thaddeus?”

Dr. Gillette heaved a sigh of relief. It was what he was hoping to hear. “I really couldn’t, but you have been spending so much time over in the executive offices with him and when the rumors started I must admit that your history with powerful men … well, I jumped to the wrong conclusion and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have listened to rumor.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Neela answered, reproaching. Her mood became
somber. “I’m there, Thaddeus, because, just like here,” she said, indicating the grounds of the trauma center, “it’s the best way I can atone for what I helped Justin Cord do. I don’t know how I could’ve been so blind to the harm I was causing.”

“Neela, we’ve discussed this. You were in love with a very romantic figure.”

“Yes, yes, I was, and look at what it caused. But now, by my advising Hektor on his cabinet and choice of leading admirals and CEOs I can help him make decisions that keep the UHF fighting. I wish I could tell you the good I’ve done already, but it’s classified four ways from dividend day. The irony is that’s exactly what I used to do for Justin Cord when he had me all turned around. But now I’m using my skills for the good of mankind and that does not … I repeat …
not
include sleeping with our President, thank you very much.”

“I completely and humbly apologize for doubting even for a second and shall spend the rest of my life quashing those malicious rumors.”

Neela got an impish grin on her face. “Unless you see dirty pictures. If you see any dirty pictures of me and Hektor, you must show them to me. I really don’t have any. You’d think some would have shown up from my college days, but I was such a boring girl.”

Dr. Gillette stood up. “Enough already. I apologized, woman. Let’s see my patient and forget the whole thing.”

Neela stood up and followed her friend. “You mean this patient is real? I was thinking she was only a ruse to confront me about my ‘sinful’ behavior.”

“Oh, I never lie about a patient.” He held up his hand to ward off the retort that Neela was obviously about to give. “I admit,” he continued, “that this patient gave me good excuse to discuss that ‘other’ matter, but she’s real and it’s interesting you use the word sinful. In this context it’s actually quite appropriate.” Dr. Gillette spent the rest of the walk filling Neela in on the patient from the Alliance. “Her name is Patricia Sampson, her brother is from Altamont, and she was captured—”

Hektor was working at his desk. He’d just finished yet another cabinet meeting. At least the news was better on the economic front. The war was drawing in such a vast number of recruits that unemployment had all but disappeared. The ravenous demands of supplying, paying, training, and treating the over one and a half billion people directly in the military were amping up the economy. The recycling programs combined with the small but steady stream of commodities coming from the captured parts of the belt and the massive mining operations on Earth and Mars were supplying the UHF with enough raw materials to prosecute the war. The Beanstalk was no longer a piece of obsolete technology but was the main bulk transport out of Earth’s gravity well. It
was true that paying for the war would take decades—maybe even more than a century. But, thought Hektor, let the future pay. They didn’t have to do the hard part.

The casualties, reasoned Hektor, were beyond anything anyone could’ve imagined at the beginning of the war, but it wasn’t as if the pennies really had anything better to do with their lives. If they had, well then, they wouldn’t be pennies, would they? All in all, the war would be bloody, it would take years longer than originally predicted, but as long as there were no more surprises he would win.

His ruminations were disturbed by a knock on the door. When he saw it was Neela he let her in, then activated a commblock protocol, which would mean as far as the world was concerned, that section of the executive offices as well as the few adjoining areas were effectively cut off from all forms of communication, both in and out. No Neuro, no handphones, no DijAssistance. It might have been suspicious behavior given who Neela was if not for the fact that there were usually eight to eleven people Hektor always activated the commblock for, including his cabinet, Amada Snow, and of course Admiral Trang. Neela, like the rest, was just an advisor discussing high-priority information with the President, and as such was accorded the secrecy associated with that role.

Hektor, buried in a stack of papers, didn’t bother to look up when she entered. “I have the latest cabinet meeting on holo,” he said. “If you can review it and give me your opinions on how they’re holding up that would be great.” Neela went right to one of the chairs in front of his desk and plopped down. Hektor looked up from his hard copies. “Or you can just collapse in the chair and ignore me.”

She shot him a derisive look.

“I’m sorry, Neela, tough day?”

She sighed. “Nothing on par with deciding the fate of humanity, but yeah, it was a tough day.”

He smiled amiably, got up out of his chair, and went to the bar. He still hadn’t gotten used to pouring drinks in the lower gravity of Mars, but he refused to use a dispenser. A man, he believed, should pour his own drinks. He made two—vodka chilled and poured through crushed ice for him and a Cosmo for her. “What is it?” he asked as he handed her a drink and then leaned back on the front edge of his desk.

“Thaddeus came to me and asked if we were having an affair.”

Hektor smiled ruefully. “
Really?
The good upright doctor? I’m surprised he was even able to bring himself to say it.”

“It almost happened that way.”

“Neela, I’ve just got to know,” Hektor said, arms folded. “What on Earth did you tell him?”

Neela’s lips curved up wickedly. “I told him we were having a torrid affair complete with pictures and twins.”

“Boys or girls?” asked Hektor without missing a beat.

“One each, and don’t be such an idiot; I told him it was a load of crap.”

Hektor put down his drink and walked behind her. He started to massage her shoulders.

“We can stop. Let me say I don’t want to. I’m not sure how well I would’ve handled the last six months without you, but you shouldn’t have to lie to a friend just to protect me.”

She took one of his hands and kissed it tenderly. “I don’t want to stop either. When I’m with you I feel more like myself than at any other time.”

“Well, fuck them then. Let’s just come right out and admit it. I’m not married, and as far as the UHF is concerned you’re not either, and damn it, I should be able to date who I want. I’m the President, for Damsah’s sake.”

Neela reached up and was just able to grab an earlobe. “No!” she yelled, twisting his ear and pulling him down in a spiral to one knee next to her.

“
Ear! Ear!
” he shouted.

“When the war is over,” she continued evenly, “we can do what we want, and then if you don’t marry me you’ll have to be concerned about losing a lot more than an ear.”

“It is a lot more, isn’t it?” he said lasciviously. “Thanks for noticing.”

She started laughing, letting his ear go and then almost as immediately gently caressing it.

“Hektor, you can do nothing that will give the Alliance one iota of propaganda or cause the UHF one iota of embarrassment. How we feel about each other is just not important compared to that. Promise me you will keep this secret until the war is over.”

“Well,” he said, now massaging the reddened lobe, “if you can avoid any more ear twisting.”

“No deal, now promise.”

With a slight bow of his head he acquiesced. “I promise.”

She pulled his head to her lips and gently nuzzled his ear. He grabbed her chin and their lips met in a kiss that started out tender but increased in passion as all thoughts of the war and their situation fled from their minds.

The Cliff House, Ceres

A
s much as the war would allow, a rhythm was established around the presidential quarters. The guard would switch four times a day, but in a staggered formation so that all the personnel never changed over at once. The cabinet would have mandatory twice-weekly meetings, barring emergency or travel.

Justin had five major departments, which were Security, Trea sury, Defense, Information, and Technology. Kirk Olmstead was running security both internal and external; Mosh McKenzie was handling the new trea sury department, which oversaw both industrialization of the Alliance as well as its paying of the bills. Or, as he often groused, “the whole damned economy.” Defense was given to Admiral Sinclair. Justin had to get over his built-in desire to have a civilian in the post, but the truth was, the fleet was the military in the Alliance and no one understood the fleet and all its ins and outs better than the admiral. He had a positive genius for knowing where every ship was, her condition, combat record, state of readiness, and all the myriad details that went with supplying and upgrading the miner battalions and orbital batteries. So Justin put aside his prejudice and gave the admiral a job he was effectively doing anyway. Padamir Singh was the information secretary, which in Justin’s mind was a combination of press secretary and minister of propaganda. Justin liked how Singh referred to himself. “Mr. President,” he’d often say, “I’m the minister of lies, both the bad ones, theirs of course, and the good ones, which would be ours.” The new post of technology chief went to Hildegard Rhunsfeld. She was an old friend of Mosh’s who’d run GCI’s deep-tech project in the formally hidden enclave out by Neptune. It had been Mosh’s personal intervention that had both kept her in the Alliance and saved the high-tech research center from destruction. As the war continued, Hildegard had gone from very reluctant neutrality to full-fledged support. She’d become indispensable to a whole series of projects that the Alliance had used to stay ahead of the UHF in a number of areas. When the need for a central figure to coordinate all of the Alliance’s projects with the goal of surviving the war became necessary, she was the natural choice. Hildegard would not be confused for a space-born member of the Alliance. First of all, she was too tall at six-one and had kept her straight blond hair well past her
shoulders—yet another giveaway. Though for the cabinet meetings she’d acceded to spacer fashion by tying it back in a bun. No matter the look, Justin could not deny her ruthless dedication and ability.

Before the meeting all the cabinet would give a summary report of their main points to Cyrus Anjou, who’d make a one-page synopsis of each, which he’d then give to Justin as a hard copy for review. As was often the case, the meetings would take place out on the balcony with the shields set for opacity and maximum security. As it was the Cerian equivalent of morning, Justin had called for a breakfast meeting. It was the only way most of them would actually eat anything until after six in the eve ning, so busy would their days get. All except Cyrus of course. It would take the planetoid exploding to interfere with one of his meals.

Per tradition, Justin was there first and greeted each person as they arrived. Today he’d added two additional guests. One, Congressman Sadma, would show up only moments before the actual meeting started. The second arrived earlier. Justin got up to greet her.