Sidespace (15 page)

“Yes, but this isn’t about structural soundness or the thrust necessary to reach escape velocity—it might involve those, too, but they’re not my focus right now. I’m concentrating on agility, maneuverability and achievable impulse engine speeds. Now that they don’t require five centimeters of hull metal for shielding and integrity, there’s no reason even the largest ships can’t be swift and responsive.”

“Except there is a reason—power.”

“Not if we solve the problem. So basically, I need to dive into the newest research on mobile power generation. If I’m an expert by this weekend—and I find good answers—I can have a modified design for the personal craft by early next week and for the first corporate model four-to-six days after that, which I can then present….” Her voice trailed off, and the animated expression she wore when noodling out a technical puzzle vanished, replaced by a fierce scowl.

“What’s wrong?” He asked casually. It still felt like he was juggling a couple of fireblades every time he needed to pose the question.

She smacked her lips in exaggerated annoyance. “It seems the Chairman of the Assembly’s Military Oversight Committee wants to meet with me to discuss the adiamene contract—no details on what precisely she wants to ‘discuss.’ And since her schedule is simply booked solid, it would be wonderful if I could come to her office this evening.”

“Her office in London?”

“Yep.”

“What are you going to do?”

A sweep of her hand and the screens vanished. “It appears I’m putting on a business suit and catching a transport to London.”

“Damn, if I’d known this was going to come up I’d have stayed on Earth. We could’ve made a weekend of it.” In truth he had sort of rushed back to Erisen…because he missed her. He buried his disappointment beneath a casual shrug that said it was
all good
.

She kissed him lightly on her way toward the door. “It’s okay. I’ll be home in the morning. You’ll hardly realize I wasn’t here. Oh, and if you know anyone who knows anything about power generation, maybe you could reach out to them while I’m gone?”

He nodded an agreement, and the door closed behind her.

He glanced around the mostly empty and now silent office. Connova was her vision, but it was his company, too. He went and grabbed a beer from the fridge compartment.

So, power generation. Who did he know who knew power?

EARTH

L
ONDON:
E
ARTH
A
LLIANCE
A
SSEMBLY

Kennedy was shown into the Committee Chairman’s office by a man who claimed to be her Chief Aide but looked far too young to be qualified for the position. Gene therapy and biosynth enhancements could make a person appear as young as they wished, within reason, but it seemed counterproductive to her for a political climber to choose to look
that
young. Maybe it was a new fad among Earth’s rising elite.

Once upon a time she’d cared about such fads, though she’d called them ‘trends’ back then. But after surviving the Metigen invasion of Messium and the near annihilation of humanity, after meeting someone who saw the world from a refreshingly offbeat perspective she’d never considered…well, she had different priorities now.

The Chairman was finishing up a conference elsewhere on the sprawling Assembly grounds, and Kennedy settled into one of the chairs opposite the vacant desk to wait. She gazed around idly, taking the decor in. It was oddly modest for a woman married to the old wealth that was the Winslow family, but she supposed appearances needed to be maintained in politics. An ornate office displaying expensive artwork and fancy baubles wouldn’t please the constituents, even if they must know the woman was wealthy.

Pamela Winslow entered behind her and offered Kennedy an officious handshake on the way to her desk. “Ms. Rossi, thank you for coming to speak with me today.”

I’ve come all the way from Erisen at your behest. This had better be good.
Her smile conveyed only exquisite politeness. “It’s not a problem, Chairman. What can I do for you?”

Winslow took her seat with an economy of motion and clasped her hands atop the old-fashioned, natural wood desk surface. “How is your mother doing? I’d hoped to see her at the grand reopening of the Victoria and Albert Museum last month, but I understand she was unable to attend.”

Kennedy quickly pulled up her calendar in her eVi. The Museum was heavily damaged by falling debris from one of the Metigen superdreadnoughts destroyed above London in the final minutes of the Metigen War. Repairs had finally been completed five weeks ago.

“I…believe that event was the same night as my brother’s birthday dinner. I’ll let her know you asked after her.” She shifted her posture forward. “Now, I realize you’re extremely busy, and I don’t want to take up much of your time. You wished to discuss the adiamene contract?”

“We on the Military Oversight Committee have been reviewing the contract, and we’ve decided to propose a few small adjustments.”

“Oh?” She kept her expression neutral to hide her growing displeasure. She, Alex and Caleb had entered into the agreement with the government once the ‘emergency measures’ of the war lapsed. It was a simple, straightforward contract, with clear terms and reservation of rights. She had difficulty imagining what ‘adjustments’ existed to be made. Price, perhaps. It usually did come down to price before the end.

“Yes. We need to take care to focus on the future and protect Alliance interests in uncertain times.” She reached into her desk drawer and produced a disk—the old, sturdy, crystal-latticed graphene kind the government mandated use of for all official matters. “Here’s the amendment. I understand you possess power of attorney for your absent colleagues, so you can sign it whenever you’re ready.”

The woman’s demeanor remained pleasant, but an undertone of distaste had crept into her voice when she mentioned Alex and Caleb, if not by name. The fact she knew they were ‘absent’ didn’t come as a surprise, given the woman’s position of power, but the distaste did.

Kennedy took the disk, dug around in her bag and found a reader, and inserted the disk in the input slot. A recent ocular implant upgrade meant she could read the disk without using the device, but since the upgrade wasn’t on the market yet—the CTO of the developer was a personal friend—she wasn’t inclined to advertise its existence to a public official.

She waited until a tiny screen activated above the reader, then made a show of examining it. In truth she had dedicated the terms to memory, so she rapidly scanned the contents for alterations, intending to use the extra time to prepare her response.

It was near to the end when she spotted it. She read the section twice more to be certain her eyes weren’t deceiving her.

She dropped the reader, disk and all, back into her bag and stood. “No.”

Then she pivoted and walked out of the office, leaving the Chairman of the Military Oversight Committee sitting in stunned silence.

V
ANCOUVER

Despite the late hour, Miriam looked as though she had just arrived home from the office when she answered the door. She wore a navy turtleneck and her uniform pants; her hair was still tucked neatly into a bun.

She blinked and tilted her head. “Kennedy, this is a surprise. What can I do for you?”

Kennedy held up the disk. “You can explain
this
to me.”

Miriam gazed at the disk. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“Oh, I will be. May I come in?”

Miriam stepped to the side and gestured to the foyer. “Of course, dear. Would you like some tea?”

She didn’t particularly care for any, but she was already bordering on rudeness and she’d barely made it in the door. “Thank you, tea would be lovely.”

“Please, have a seat in the den. I’ll be right back.”

Kennedy sat on the edge of the couch and fidgeted. She’d only been to Miriam’s home twice before, thanks to Alex’s near-total lack of a relationship with her mother until very recently. It was an unassuming townhome in an upper-middle-class Vancouver neighborhood near the Strait—i.e., minutes from the Island.

The decor was unsurprisingly tasteful and minimal. A shelf of antique texts lined one wall of the den. The other displayed family visuals, almost all of which predated her husband’s death. There was a recent one from Alex’s and Caleb’s wedding—it had been an ultra-private ceremony at a rustic inn in the White River valley of Mt. Rainier, with a guest list so short and exclusive she and Noah were lucky to attend. Beside it was a visual of Miriam and Alex arm in arm, taken after the ceremony. They were both smiling freely—and at each other, a rare sight indeed.

The front wall, closest to the foyer, held a memorial collage dedicated to David Solovy’s life and his death. Medals, citations and commendations surrounded a large image of him in full dress uniform above a bronzed plaque. It held an inscription, but she couldn’t read it from the couch and didn’t want to so blatantly snoop.

Her focus swiveled to Miriam as the woman rejoined her, two steaming cups of tea in hand. She gave one to Kennedy then sat in the armchair opposite her. “Given the hour, I assume this isn’t a social call. What’s on the disk?”

Kennedy took a quick sip of the tea and set it on the side table. “A proposed amendment to our contract with the government for non-exclusive use rights to adiamene. The amendment will make your rights exclusive. It effectively enables the Alliance to seize control of the distribution of adiamene by forcing me to sell only to you.”

“Not only to me, surely.”

“Don’t obfuscate, Miriam. Did you know about this?”

The woman’s lips drew into a thin line. “I was aware the matter was under consideration.”

“I’m not signing this. Alex would
never
sign this.”

“Seeing as Alex isn’t here, I’m not sure that’s especially relevant.”

She did have a point, given they had no idea when Alex and Caleb might return—it could be years—but it was a point Kennedy wasn’t ready to accept. “Well, she would lose her mind if she came back and found out I signed this atrocity on her behalf, power of attorney or no.”

“Kennedy, you must understand. Adiamene is an extremely dangerous material in the wrong hands. If the cartels—or worse, terrorists—get their hands on it, this will severely cripple our ability to combat them. The military needs to maintain some advantage over its enemies.”

“And the Federation?”

“We are under our own contract to supply them with a portion of our monthly production, free of charge, until reparations for the damage General O’Connell inflicted on their colonies is paid in full.”

“How much of your supply?”

Miriam dipped her chin in apparent concession. “The contract calls for fifteen percent.”

She wouldn’t have phrased it as she did if the reality wasn’t something altogether different. “How much are you really sending them? Twelve percent? Ten?”

The woman’s eyes drifted to the cup of tea in her hand. “Eight percent. At most.”

Kennedy huffed an incredulous laugh, shocked the woman had admitted the truth—unless she hadn’t, which meant it was even worse.

She shook her head. “I take your point about the criminals, but I’m not at all comfortable with what it will mean when only military ships are indestructible. I love the Alliance—my family has supported it since its inception—but no military should be so powerful.”

“Not merely our military—Seneca will act as a check against us.”

“Not at an eight percent supply they won’t. You’ll have a new fleet built before they can produce a regiment worth of ships. I’m sorry, but no. I can’t sign this.”

Miriam took a meticulous sip of her tea. When she spoke, her voice had gained a weightier, solemn tenor. Of warning? “Kennedy, if you fight them, they can force you to consent to it.”

Her own tenor headed in the opposite direction. “Like hell they can!”

“The Assembly has half a dozen regulations and special procedures they can invoke to appropriate adiamene production. And I regret to say, under their current leadership they are inclined to do so.”