Cherryh, C J - Alliance-Union 08 (88 page)

Ari, —

"Just let me get the other part of the question. Then the follow-up. I want to do all of them. B, that getting me my majority is a trick to cover Emory's involvement in Gehenna.
I
have access to the Gehenna notes, and I'm perfectly willing to testify to the Council as soon as I
have
my majority. Until then I'm a minor and I can't. So it seems to me that the Centrists' suit is covering up things, because if they really want to know what I know, why are they trying to keep me from being able to go under oath? Those files are under my voice-lock, and not even computer techs could get them out without messing things up and maybe losing real important pieces of it, just gone, for good. Not even my relatives have read the Gehenna files. I'm the only one who has them, and ser Corain is filing suit to keep me from being able to testify."

The reporters all started yelling. She pointed at Yevi. "Yevi still has his follow-up."

Yevi said: "What would be the reason?" Which was not his original follow-up, and some of the other reporters objected.

"I wish I could ask ser Corain," she said. "Maybe there's something in there."

"Follow-up."

"Yevi, I
have
to get to this m'sera, she's been waiting."

"What keeps your uncles from reading the files?"

Ouch. Good question. "Me. I have a special program my predecessor left for me. My voice is a lot like hers, and my geneset is hers, so when I was old enough to identify myself to the computer, it opened up these areas; but it's got a lot of security arrangements, and it won't let me access if there's anybody else going to hear; and it can tell."

"Follow-up!"
the woman yelled over the shouting. "Can't
you
record it with a tape or something?"

Another good question. Remember this woman and be careful. "I could if I was going to allow it, but I'm not going to. My predecessor went to a lot of trouble about security and she warned me right in the program that I had to take that very seriously, even about people I might trust. I did, even if I didn't understand, and nobody at Reseune tried to get me to tell what was there either. Now I think it was a good idea, because it seems to be something real important, and I think the Council ought to be the ones to decide who gets to hear it, not any fifteen-year-old kid and not just any one part of the government either, because there's too much fighting going on about it and I don't know how to decide who to tell. The Council is supposed to decide things like that. That's the way I understand it. —Ser Ibanez."

"Can you tell us if there's anything in the files that you think would damage the reputation of your predecessor?"

"I can tell you this, because if anything happened to me it's terribly important people should know if. Gehenna has to stay quarantined. My predecessor was under Defense Bureau orders, but it scared her; and that was why she left things sealed for me. —Ser Hannah."

Chaos broke out. Everyone was shouting.

"Wasn't that irresponsible of your predecessor—if it was that important?

Why did she keep it secret?"

"It was a Defense secret and it
was
quarantined. She
did
tell some people. But a lot of them are dead, and some of them probably don't understand what she did.
I
don't know it all yet. That's the bad thing: you have to be as smart as she was before you can work with the problem. She's dead and nobody else understands what she understood. That's why they made me. I'm
not
a Bok-clone situation. I am a Special, and someday I'm going to be able to understand what happened there. Right now nobody does. But she did leave instructions, and I'm not giving them to anybody until Council asks me under oath, because I'm not going to muddy up the waters by talking until I
can
swear to what I'm saying and the whole universe knows I'm an adult and I'm not lying. If I did it any other way, people could question whether I was telling the truth or whether I knew what I was doing."

They shouted and pushed and shoved each other. She felt Florian and Catlin move up on either side, anxious.

But she Had them. She was sure of it. She had gotten out exactly what she wanted to say.

"Release the damn broadcast!" Corain yelled into the securitied phone, at Khalid's chief of staff, who swore Khalid was not available. "God! I don't care if he's in
hell,
get hold of him and get that release, you damn fool, it's gotten to my office, and thirty-five top reporters sent it downline—what do you mean security hold?"

"This is Khalid," the Councillor cut in, displacing the aide. "Councillor Corain, in light of the content of the interview we've requested a security delay of thirty minutes for the child's own protection. We seem to have a major problem."

"We
have
a major problem. The longer that hold stays on, the more that
hold
is going to become news, Councillor, and the longer it stays, the more they're going to ask why. We
can't
stop that broadcast."

"Assuredly we can't. There were too many news-feeds. I told you not to allow the interview. A minor child is making irresponsible charges on extremely sensitive matters, with international implications. I suggest we answer this with a categorical denial."

"It would have been foolhardy
not
to allow it. You can't keep the newsservices away from the kid, and you saw what she can do with innuendo."

"She's obviously well-instructed."

"Instructed,
hell,
Khalid.
Take that damned hold off!"

There was long silence on the other end. "The hold will go off in fifteen minutes. I strongly suggest you use the time to prepare an official statement."

"On
what?
We have nothing to do with these charges."

Again a silence. "Neither have we, Councillor. I think this will require investigation."

It was a securitied line.
Any
communication could be penetrated if one could get access to the installers; or to the other end of the transmission.

"I think it will, Admiral. There will be a Centrist caucus in one hour. I hope you will be prepared to explain your position."

"It's completely without substantiation," Khalid said to the cameras, on the office vid, while Corain rested his chin on his hand, glancing between the image on the screen and the news-feed that an aide slipped under his view:
NP: DEFENSE BUREAU SPOKESMAN DECLINES COMMENT ON ACTION
and
CP: KHALID CALLS CHARGES FABRICATION.

"... nothing in those files to substantiate any continued quarantine order. It's exactly what I say: Giraud Nye has come up with a piece of fiction, an absolute piece of fiction, and tape-fed it to a minor child who is in no wise fit or competent to understand the potential international repercussions. This is a reprehensible tactic which seeks to use the free press to its own advantage—utterly, utterly fabricated. I ask you, consider whether we will
ever
see documentation of the child's representations—files which a fifteen-year-old girl
maintains
she alone has seen, which she cannot—I say
cannot
produce—unless others produce these putative files
for
her—files which an impressionable fifteen-year-old child maintains were left for her by her predecessor. I will tell you, seri, I have grave suspicions that no such secret files
ever
were made by Ariane Emory, that no
such program
was ever created by Ariane Emory to give ghostly guidance to her successor. I suspect that any
such program
was written much closer to hand, that the child has been
programmed,
indeed, programmed—a process in which Reseune is absolutely expert, and in which Councillor Nye himself is an acknowledged authority—in fact a Special who gained his status as a result of his expertise in that very field. The child is a pawn created by Reseune to place legal and emotional obstacles in the way of matters of paramount national interest, and callously used and manipulated to maintain the privilege of a moneyed few whose machiavellian tactics now bid fair to jeopardize the peace. ..."

Reporters were waiting at the hotel. "Are you aware," someone shouted, "of Khalid's accusations, Councillor Nye?"

"We heard them on the way over," uncle Giraud said, while Security maintained them a little clear space in the foyer, while cameramen jostled each other.

"
I
have an answer," Ari said, ignoring Florian's arm as he tried, with other Security, to get her and uncle Giraud on through the doors. "I
want
to answer him, can we set up in a conference room?"

"... Thank you," the girl said, made a very young-girl move with both hands getting her hair back behind her shoulders, and then grimaced and shaded her eyes as a light hit her face. "Ow. Could you shine that down? Please?" Then she leaned forward with her arms on the conference table, suddenly businesslike and so like Emory senior that Corain's gut tightened. "What's your question?"

"What do you think about Khalid's allegations?" some reporter yelled out over the others.

Chaos. Absolute chaos. The light swung back into the girl's face and she winced. "Cut it off," someone yelled, "we don't need it."

"Thanks." As the light went off. "You want me to tell what I think about what the admiral says? I think he knows better. He used to be head of Intelligence. He sure
ought
to. It's not real smart either, to say I'm programmed. I can write psych designs.
He's
trying to run a psych on everybody, and I can tell you where, do you want me to count it off for you?"

"Go ahead," voices yelled out.

The girl held up one finger. "One: he says there's nothing in the files about a quarantine. He says he doesn't
know
what's in the files in Reseune: that's what he's complaining about. Whichever way it is, he's either trying to trick you or he's lying about what's in the files.

"Two: he says my uncle tape-fed me the stuff. He doesn't know any such thing. And in fact it's not true.

"Three: he says I don't understand what it could mean in international politics. Unless he knows what's in those files, he doesn't know as much as I do what it could mean.

"Four: he makes fun of the idea my predecessor left a program for me. That's a psych. Funny stuff breaks your concentration and makes you not think real hard about what he's really saying, which is that it's impossible. It's
certainly
possible. It's a simple branching program with a voice-recognition and a few other security things I don't want to talk about on vid, and I could write it, except for the scrambling, and that's something my own security understands—he's fifteen too. I'm sure Councillor Khalid does, if he was in Intelligence, so it's a pure psych.

"Five: he says my uncles write all the stuff. That's a psych like the first one, because he can just say that and then everybody wonders. I can give you one just exactly like it if I said Khalid won the election because he made up the rumor Gorodin was against the military retirement bill, and because of the way news goes out to the ships in space, and it being right before the vote, the vote was already coming back and being registered by the time Gorodin's saying it wasn't true even got to a lot of places. I heard that on the news. But I guess people forget who it is that makes up lies."

"Oh, my God. . . ." Corain murmured, and rested his head against his hands.

"I think that's done it," Dellarosa said. "I'd advise, ser, we hold a caucus
without
Defense. I think we need to draw up a position on this."

Corain raked his hand through his hair.

"Dammit, he can't even sue her for libel. She's a minor. And that went out live."

"I think the facts are, ser, the military may have had real practical reasons for preferring Khalid in spite of the rumor. But I think he's taken major damage.
Major
damage. I wouldn't be surprised if we don't see a challenge from Gorodin. We need to distance ourselves from this. We need a position statement on these supposed secret files. We need it while this broadside barrage is still going on."

"We need—" Corain said, "we
need
to call for a Science Bureau select committee to look into this,
past
Giraud Nye, to rule on the girl's competency. But, dammit, you
saw
that performance. The girl
got
Khalid, extemp. He played a dirty little in-Bureau game he'd have gotten away with because no one could pin it on him
or
his staff—but no one's going to forget it in
that
context."

"Nye told her."

"Don't make that mistake. Khalid just did. And he's dead. Politically, he's dead. He can't counter this one."

"She could charge anyone with being in those damn files!"

"She could have charged Khalid. But she didn't. Which probably means they exist and she's going to produce them. Or she's keeping her story clean . . . that she's waiting on Council. I'll tell you the other problem, friend. Khalid's going to be a liability in that office."

"Khalid's got to resign."

"He won't! Not that one. He'll fight to the bloody end."

"Then I suggest, ser, before we even consider Gorodin, who's stuck with the two-year rule, we explore who else might be viable for us inside that Bureau. How long do you think this is going to go? One bit of garbage floats to the surface—and other people start talking to the press. One more—and it becomes a race to the cameras."

"Dammit."

He
had insisted Khalid take the hold off the news releases.

And there was no practical way to answer the charges, except to stall with the Bureau hearings. Which Nye could rush through at lightning speed. More exposure of the girl to the newsservices.

No way. Withdraw opposition.

Then
the girl got herself a full Council hearing.

And the repercussions of revelations on Gehenna went to the ambassadors from Alliance and from Earth.

The girl was
not
bluffing.

"One thing," he said as Dellarosa was leaving, "one thing she absolutely beat him on.
Find
somebody in Defense who makes speeches people can
understand,
for God's sake."