The Alliance (24 page)

“Gaining trust has been my biggest problem.” Jack’s words seemed too appropriate to be true. “It makes everybody wary of new things. I’ve had to limit progress to prove myself reliable. This fish farm would be in full production if it weren’t for that.” The aircraft came to a hover a thousand feet above the artificial harbor.

Rachael nodded. “I can see why it would be a problem. You only have to fail once to undo everything.”

“Precisely.” He nodded.

Rachael would have shaken her head if it weren’t for the chance he might misinterpret. He had the luck of the devil in saying the right thing at the right moment. She’d made up her mind. “I’ll do what I can to help, starting with these.” She raised the sheets. “They’ll go through as soon as we return.”

“Good.” A single word acknowledged her cooperation.

Nor did he mention it in the next hour while he displayed the successes in the thirty miles around the Treaty Port, characteristically attributing all of them to others. “They were just waiting for their opportunities. All I did was approve their plans and provide the funds from the Pontiff’s horde.”

The Federation had reluctantly released the funds held in the Pontiff’s name and there were rumors of a hidden stash of cash in the palace.

“Do you feel up to eating?”

Rachael considered the question. The oxygen had done wonders for her head and her stomach no longer revolted at the thought of food, but she wasn’t sure about eating.

“We have an invitation to a small ceremony on the island I ended my voyage.” Jack paused, and added the supplementary information only when he sensed her wavering. “They’re providing a light lunch.”

“How long will it take us to get there?” Her recovery continued. If she had a little more time, she might be well enough to eat.

“About thirty minutes.” He watched her decide.

“I think I might be safe by then.” She knew she sounded doubtful so she added a smile to reassure him.

“We’re on our way.”

The aircraft translated smoothly from hovering to forward flight, gaining height and speed as he applied power. He was the type of pilot where everything happened with a minimum of fuss.

“I read the story of your voyage,” she said. “It appears you left a lot unsaid. They’d added a commentary at Federation Headquarters, listing the reported weather conditions. You sailed through one of the worst storms recorded.”

“I had a good boat, as you’ll see shortly. The Pontiff’s men recovered it and the locals have turned it into a monument. I’m supposed to dedicate it today.” He looked embarrassed. “They want a speech as well.”

“Would they be offended if I said a few words in my official capacity? I would like to express the Federation’s esteem.” It was also her chance to establish a separate identity.

“I’m sure they’d be honored.” The slightest twitch of his right eyebrow added his thoughts.

She grinned. “I do have to earn my salary occasionally.”

“You will.” A touch of grimness evaded his smile. “There’s much to be done. It daunts me sometimes.”

“I could name a lot of people who would find it difficult to imagine you daunted by anything.” He was still capable of surprising her.

“It’s easy when it’s just you, or even a small group, whom you lead by informed consent. Most of the people on this planet will never meet me, yet their future, and the future of generations yet unborn, depend on me getting it right now.” He wasn’t asking for sympathy. He was defining his problem.

She felt tempted to say something trite, but opted for the truth. “You will have done your best, because you’re incapable of anything less.”

It earned her a sharp look. “You sound like my aunt. She always knows what to say too.” He turned back to flying the aircraft and neither of them spoke again.

The silence was comfortable, for Rachael sensed they’d passed a point in their relationship from which there was no return. He’d triggered it with the admission of his doubts and her empathy had sealed it. She would never again think of him as the spacer, or the president. From this moment onwards, he would always be Jack.

“I see a friend down there. We’ll go lower and you can have a look at her.” The aircraft had reached a narrow strait between two large islands and Jack slowed it, dropping lower until they hovered thirty feet above the surface.

His
friend
was very large. At least twenty feet from nose to tail, the shark glided unconcerned through a school of fish, two pilot fish keeping station at either side.

“She investigated the raft I was using to cross the strait,” Jack said. “Chomped off six foot and was distracted by a school of fish. Came back and circled for a while before she lost interest. For which, I was very grateful.”

She tried to imagine this supreme predator circling about, miles from the shore and failed. “You didn’t mention it in your story.”

Jack shook his head. “This is her territory. The tides bring her all the food she needs. I was the intruder.” He glanced at the dashboard clock. “We’d best be going. Punctuality is the politeness of Kings and Presidents.” His smile was wry.

The aircraft rose to cruising altitude and resumed its flight.

“There they are.” A pointing finger indicated a sheltered beach and a colorful crowd gathered beside the lighthouse guarding one headland. “They promised a clear area to land.”

The crowd spotted them, opening to reveal the white lines of a circle marked with a central cross. A flag rose on the lighthouse to indicate the wind direction.

“They remembered everything.” Jack sounded pleased, a parent endorsing the efforts of his children. “We’re landing.”

She noticed a touch of showmanship in the swooping approach and neat final descent, the flamboyance at odds with his normal flying, and therefore deliberate. She also suspected he short-circuited the shutdown procedure rather than keep his hosts waiting, in another departure from his professional pilot’s approach.

“After you, Madame Ambassador. The populace awaits.” The aircraft ramp had lowered itself and the rear door opened.

Rachel stepped out to a roar of approval, strengthened only slightly by Jack’s appearance. The crowd had recognized her instantly, calling her name to one another.

“You told them I was coming.” She stated the obvious.

“I didn’t know myself until this morning and the radio at the lighthouse is faulty. I’ve brought the spares to fix it.” Jack’s expression was a masterpiece of innocence.

“Then how did they recognize me?”

“You’ll understand shortly.”

“Mmm. I suspect one of your jokes.”

“At the time, it was deadly serious.” His mind had slipped back in time and it showed on his face until he broke the mood to smile at the approaching group as its leader opened his mouth to speak.

“Greetings, Mister President, Madame Ambassador. We’re so glad you could both make it. Our celebration wouldn’t be the same without both of you here to share it.”

Rachael smiled brightly at the man, suppressing the urge to question Jack with a look. They included her deliberately and she must respond gracefully.

“Please come this way and see what we’ve done.” A path formed in the crowd and Rachael allowed him to escort her toward a newly painted wooden building set on a rocky outcrop above the beach. “We put her where she could see the ocean.”

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.” Jack’s voice held exactly the right note. “It was her home.”

Understanding dawned for Rachael. They talked about the fishing boat Jack sailed to this island during his return to the Treaty Port. It didn’t explain how she was involved, but she now understood the female gender.

“It’s a great likeness.” Their host had turned to Rachael. “We all recognized you immediately.”

“Yes. I was surprised.” Rachael turned to him so she could see Jack’s face as well, hoping there’d be some assistance forthcoming. His studied innocence resigned her to waiting a little longer.

“Here we are.”

They’d reached the building and stood on the steps leading up to the main floor. Open at three sides, it held the boat mounted on wooden cradles with the mast raised and the sail hoisted. Clinker built with a transom stern, it was not new, nor had it been “prettied up.” She could see a half dozen like it moored off the beach, all working boats, battered by the sea and hard usage.

“She looks great.” Jack was serious. “I never thought I’d see her again.”

“We scoured the beaches and the sea until we recovered everything. The transom thwart identified her beyond argument.” The man’s nod denoted deep satisfaction.

“I suppose it would.” Jack nodded agreement. “I spent a lot of time sitting there.”

“You used it profitably.” The man turned to Rachael. “Come, Madame Ambassador. See for yourself.”

He guided her to the transom where two steps led up to a platform allowing her to look along the length and under the half-deck. “Step up and you’ll see why we had no trouble recognizing you.”

She followed his instructions and stood looking down at the wooden bench forming the seat across the square transom. One side was plain wood, the other a carved likeness of her face cut deep and polished smooth. It was instantly recognizable as the original of the carvings she’d seen yesterday.

She turned and caught the half-embarrassed smile on Jack’s face. “I had a lot of time on my hands,” he said. “It helped keep me sane.”

“It is also the most sincere compliment I’ve ever received.” She did not attempt to dissemble. “Thank you. I will remember this always.”

Wisdom, common sense, and discretion fled. She would have this man as her lover, no matter what stood in the way. Rachael felt a renewing energy pouring through her veins like fire, igniting the debris of her hangover and transforming it into power. She had the sense of being taller, standing head and shoulders above the rest. It was intoxicating in a way alcohol could never be.

Jack must have sensed the transformation, or something, for he watched her intently, the slightest of smiles curving his lips. “Hangover gone?”

“Yes. I’m ready for anything.” The secret meaning amused her.

“Perhaps I’d better arrange a chaperone for the trip home. You have a dangerous glint in your eyes.”

“There’s no room for three,” she challenged him.

“I could always send you back by boat. It wouldn’t take more than a week.” He was enjoying it.

Their host chuckled. “It does me good to hear young lovers tease. Takes me back. Makes me remember when my wife and I were young. It was a good feeling.”

The compassion in Jack’s eyes made Rachael want to weep. He’d heard something in the man’s voice. “When did she die?”

“Ten years ago…tomorrow. A fever came through the village and we had no healer.” The man shrugged. “I lost my son as well.” He looked down, remembering. “The Pontiff blamed the Federation, said their quarantine was too lax. He always blamed someone else.” He shrugged again. “It sometimes feels like yesterday.”

Rachael acted instinctively when she hugged him. There was no thought, no calculation, just a need to give comfort. “She was very lucky to have a man like you.”

“The luck was mine, but thank you for the thought.” He returned her embrace until her arms loosened and then stepped back. “We’d best get on with the speeches. The others are getting hungry.”

The ceremony was simple. A recital of Jack’s voyage and Rachael’s role in distracting the Pontiff in the lead up to the coup, the distance the boat covered without detection and how it came to this final resting place. Jack’s reply concentrated on the future and Rachael added her personal pledge to expedite the reforms he proposed. The crowd cheered at the end, but the lunch table had more of their attention than the ceremonies.

Rachael ate well, sampling local dishes, chatting with local dignitaries and their wives, fending off the local Lotharios without giving offense, exercising the stock in trade of all diplomats. Chance occasionally put her alongside Jack, but they had time to do no more than exchange glances. She felt pleased when he reminded their host of the restrictions on night flying over the Treaty Port since they relocated the portal.

“We need to leave soon.” He sounded genuinely regretful. “Once we’ve established a proper airport, it will be different.”

They took off half an hour later, flying south as the sun touched the western horizon and landing with the last of the light. Rachael used the time to plan her assault. Jack would be aware how unwise becoming sexually involved was in their present positions. She would have to find a way of convincing him.

The dying whine of the gas turbines and the click of the final switch plunged the cockpit into darkness, but Jack made no move to leave. “You have something on your mind,” he said. “This is about as private as we can get. There are no listening devices and the polarization of the canopy hides us from the outside.” Her silence on the return flight had warned him something was amiss and his reaction was characteristically direct.
Damn,
she thought.
Words won’t persuade him now.

She released her seat belt, rose to stand in the space between the seats, and leaned over to kiss him on the lips, pouring everything she had into a convincing argument. He cooperated fully and she found herself in his lap, the seat sliding back to give her room. It did more, reclining to become a bed. Designed for planetary exploration, the aircraft had its sleeping quarters in the adaptable seats.