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Authors: Steven Lyle Jordan

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Or maybe Julian knew what Aaron was hiding… because they were both in on it, and Julian was just better at hiding it than Aaron. She had already experienced how hard it was to read Julian; maybe he was the one behind whatever…
No
, Kris thought, shaking her head.
You’re thinking this too deeply
.

When Julian finally left Aaron’s office, he headed in a direction other than the one that would take him to the science sections. Briefly Kris considered going after him, but a moment afterward, Aaron came out of his office. As Kris watched, Aaron turned in the direction of the science sections. Kris paused only a moment to consider her choices, before heading after Aaron. She followed as long as she could without Aaron realizing she was shadowing him, until an appropriate opportunity presented itself in a cross-corridor, and she angled her approach as if she was just coming out of the corridor after he had passed by. Then she called out: “Aaron!”

Aaron turned and saw Kris, seemingly approaching from the cross-corridor, and stopped to wait for her. “Good morning, Kris. Keeping busy?”

He was referring, of course, to the night before, when Kris had been in a meeting with Julian and the President late into the night. He had seemed okay with the situation earlier that morning… now, just a few hours later, he sounded bitter. “Is something wrong, Aaron?”

Aaron, in response, pulled back and bit and reconsidered his words. “Maybe that came out heavy… sorry.”

“That’s all right,” Kris dismissed it quickly. “Has something happened? You seem bothered by something.” Before he could answer, she added, “Where are you going?”

“Oh…” Aaron faltered, mentally switching gears. He still exhibited difficulty keeping focused around Kris, and she hoped that would allow something to slip in time. “I’m going down to the science offices.”

“May I come along?” Kris asked quickly. “I’d love to see the kinds of things they do there.” Aaron seemed hesitant for a moment. “It might also allow me to see some of the things I’ve been collating from CnC, for my report.”

This seemed to be good enough for Aaron, and he finally nodded. He continued on, Kris falling in step next to him, close enough to occasionally brush their arms together as they walked. The faint contact quickly served its purpose… within a minute, Aaron’s gait was a bit slower and more relaxed. Kris pushed her advantage by asking: “So, is there a problem in the science sections?”

“No, not a problem,” Aaron replied easily. “A few holdups, but nothing serious.”

“Connected to your freight delivery project?”

Aaron did not react outwardly… that was what gave him away. He was trying to be non-chalant about that project. In fact, he considered it very important. Without looking at her directly, he replied, “That one is proving to be tricky… but we’ll get it.”

“Is that something that might influence the President? If so, I’d like to know more about it if I could. Who’s the head of the project?”

“Actually, that one’s not that big a deal,” Aaron lied. “I’m mainly going down to see if we can get some help analyzing the ash-related damage being taken by the ballistics. We’re hoping we can work up a better way of protecting the ballistics. Yesterday, an RPI ballistic suffered a static-related guidance failure flying through the ash layer, causing it to crash-land.”

Kris did not have to pretend to look shocked. “I hadn’t heard! Was anyone hurt?”

“Apparently not… it pancaked in the desert, almost hit a solar generating plant, but it didn’t do any damage to anything except its payload… which was completely lost.”

“So you want to better protect the ballistics?” Kris asked, and Aaron nodded. “Would your freight delivery project impact that?”

Aaron gave an elaborate shrug and turn of his head. “Well… possibly,” he replied.

This time, Kris effectively hid her shock. Aaron apparently believed this project would make the ballistics problem a non-issue! The more she spoke to Aaron about it, the more her curiosity was piqued. Just what was going on down there?

When they reached the science sections, it was all Kris could do to avoid staring hard at everyone and everything she passed, intent on discovering the hidden secret that Aaron was protecting… or thought he was protecting. But none of the scientists and engineers she passed seemed to be keeping anything close to the chest, or otherwise keeping an eye out for sneaky spies like herself. If anything, she was getting the kind of looks she usually got from those who were attracted to her, but nothing to suggest suspicion or distrust of her. These people apparently had nothing to hide, other than active libidos.

Eventually, they reached a door, and entered an anteroom. The opposite wall had another door, marked, “Science Director.” Aaron stated aloud, without preamble, “Aaron Hardy to see Dr. Silver.”

“Good morning, Mr. Hardy,” an automated voice spoke out of nowhere. “Please go right in.”

Aaron opened the door and motioned for Kris to go in first… but Kris shook her head and frowned.
You are the Coo, and the one announced. You first.
Aaron acquiesced, and went into the office, followed two steps behind by Kris.

Dr. Silver was looking up and smiling when Aaron entered the room. Upon seeing Kris, however, her smile faded slightly… more from surprise than anything, Kris was sure, but she could tell Dr. Silver hadn’t expected to speak to a stranger. She stood from her chair and came around the desk. “Good morning, Aaron.”

“Jacqueline,” Aaron greeted her. He quickly turned and indicated Kris. “This is Kris Fawkes. I mentioned her to you the other day… she’s part of President Lambert’s diplomatic corps.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Fawkes,” Silver smiled and offered her hand. “And are you working with Aaron?”

Kris caught her meaning clearly:
Are you working
on
Aaron?
She returned Silver’s smile and shook her hand. “I’m trying to liaison with CnC, to see if we can establish some common ground for future negotiations.”

“Ah,” Silver nodded. “Smoothing over the diplomatic channels. I hope you’re having some success.”

“Some,” Kris replied.

“Jacqueline,” Aaron cut in, “you’ve heard about the RPI crash yesterday, right?”

“Yes, this morning,” Silver replied, indicating two chairs to her guests, and starting back around her desk. “Sounds like no one was hurt, thank goodness.”

“Yes,” Aaron said, digging into a jacket pocket. He extracted a storage chip. “But I spoke to Julian this morning. He has doubts about the veracity of RPI’s claims.”

“So did I,” Silver admitted. “Their ballistics should be able to handle some bad weather. That’s what they’re designed for.”

“Right,” Aaron nodded, holding out the chip. “This has RPI’s initial report on the crash. They sent it to Julian this morning. He thinks it might be doctored to support their situation. He’d like your lab to take a look, and see if you can find anything that looks trumped up, exaggerated, or outright faked, in order to support their position. We may need to litigate if it looks like they’re lying to avoid culpability, or just to con us out of more money.”

“Of course,” Silver said, taking the chip. “If there’s anything bogus in here, we’ll find it.” She then looked at Kris. “And what do you make of this situation, Miss Fawkes?”

Kris regarded Dr. Silver for a split-second. She had already established, between the two people with her in the room, which would be the most challenging poker-player. Silver was supposed to be a genius… and her talents clearly included a thorough knowledge of psychology and body language. She was reading Kris almost as well as Kris was reading her. “Well, I’d hate to think that RPI is taking advantage of the situation for their own ends,” she replied smoothly. “But we all know stranger things have happened. President Lambert is as interested in the truth as I am, so we’ll know what appropriate action to take.”

Dr. Silver nodded, dropped the chip into a reader, and began typing instructions into her workstation keyboard. As she typed, she said, “I’m going to parse this out to a number of specialists we have here. They should be able to give us some preliminary indications within a few hours.”

“Are any of them working on Aaron’s freight delivery project?” Kris asked.

Aaron brought his head around and stared at Kris, obviously taken by surprise. But Dr. Silver regarded her calmly, apparently nonplussed by her question. “As a matter of fact, no,” she replied smoothly. “Why do you ask?”

“Well,” Kris said, knowing she couldn’t play her hand too heavily, “Aaron mentioned it, and I was just curious. He suggested it might help the current freight delivery problems you’re having.”

“Well, anything’s possible,” Silver told her. “But that’s a long ways down the road. We have much more pressing projects right now, that one’s small potatoes.”

Kris smiled inwardly.
This woman is good. But maybe too good
. Kris could tell she didn’t want to talk about the project. “It just sounded interesting, that’s all. I’d love to know more.”

“Well, at the moment, we happen to be waiting on some patent rulings, so I’d rather not go into any details on it,” Silver stated simply. In his chair, Aaron shifted about in such a way as to indicate a sudden sense of calm. The legal dodge… always a big hit.

But the little charade had told Kris something concrete: It was Dr. Silver who was hiding something about that project… and being that it was her, Kris was now sure that there was something serious to it.

~

Once they were out of Dr. Silver’s office, Kris decided to see what she’d get out of a direct press. When there was no one around to overhear, she looked at Aaron and said, “You and Dr. Silver are cooking up something serious back there.” Aaron looked down at her, badly hiding his concern. “Something that’s going to really shake up the freight situation. Why are you hiding it? It seems to me that if your project, whatever it is, will have that big an impact on freight delivery, it would make a big bargaining chip… something Verdant could use right now.”

Aaron’s expression shifted rapidly as Kris watched: At one point, he seemed to see a logic to her argument; but something else was trumping the urge to speak out, even though he wished he could… he
wanted
to.

This revelation caused Kris to turn and put a hand on Aaron’s chest, bringing them both to a halt. “Aaron,” she said earnestly, “I realize we both know who I’m working for. It may seem like we’re at odds here… but all I’m after is the truth, which is what’s best for Verdant. I’m also a Verdant resident, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to this place… my home. President Lambert… well, he may want a lot,” she went on. “But he’s not crazy. And he does not have the backing of the U.N. on the subject of immigration. If you have a good enough lever, and you use it, he’ll
have
to back down!

“Please tell me:
Why won’t you use that lever?

Aaron’s eyes began darting back and forth, almost as if he was listening to conflicting voices on either side of him, arguing for and against Kris’ point. But Kris saw the exact moment when one of those voices won out, and he suddenly drew himself together. “Look, it’s simply too early to discuss the project. Its…” Aaron looked away as he finished. “Its success… is not assured. We don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.”

And there it was, in the shift of his eyes, the inclination of his head, the slumping of his shoulders—the
real
reason Aaron was holding back. Kris saw it clearly now: Aaron was afraid of the damage that would be done to
himself
by revealing the project before it was proven successful. He was protecting his own reputation… or his career… probably both. He was nothing more than a coward.

This time, Kris let her professional mask drop. Aaron could plainly read her face this time:
She understood him perfectly; and she was very disappointed
. He knew what else that meant, too. Slowly, he dropped his head, and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. Well, if you’ll excuse me, Miss Fawkes, I have an appointment.” He spared one last glance at her, meeting her eyes for only a split-second, before turning and walking rapidly in the opposite direction, down the corridor, around a corner, and out of sight.

Kris made no effort to go after him.

 

 

13: Futility

As Calvin Rios came out of the sixth lab in the science sections that he’d visited that day, he massaged his temple irritably. His assignment was beginning to give him a throbbing headache… though he suspected that the incredible electrical energy being generated in the last two labs may have had something to do with it. He was so preoccupied with his discomfort that he almost ran into someone coming around the corner, who grunted and kept moving. “Uh, sorry,” he mumbled, not even realizing he had almost collided with Aaron Hardy.

So far, his efforts to make sense of Tranquil’s theoretical force field data had only resulted in a string of failures and personal embarrassment… mostly from those scientists and engineers that knew enough about energy application to realize how crazy it sounded. He had spent all day speaking to particle physicists, theoretical physicists, unified field specialists, electrical engineers, mechanical engineers, and even scientific historians. The last labs had been practical labs, and the experts therein had gone through the trouble of actually setting up experiments and demonstrations, real and virtual, to prove the fact that force fields didn’t work. Calvin’s ears were still ringing from the frighteningly-loud multiple
CRACK
s of an ultracapacitor array firing off bursts of stored power, trying to generate enough power to deflect a simple laser beam, with no real success. And a hardened ballistic missile would have even less of a problem sliding through such a field.

But even Dr. Silver had suspected there might have been something buried in there, somewhere… so did he. Calvin was supposed to be renowned for his ability to “sift through the forest to find the single tree that mattered,” as an old colleague had put it once. More than once, he had demonstrated an unerring ability to make sense of that which confounded everyone around him. Julian Lenz knew that, which was why he was given this assignment. And he had the distinct feeling that he was on the verge of that again. At least, he hoped he was… if he could manage to come up with something that would protect Verdant, he knew how monumental that would be.

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