The Unincorporated Woman (64 page)

“Can I ask you a favor?”

Katy nodded again. It was hard for J.D. not to laugh at the girl’s now chocolate covered face.

“Your mommy and daddy,” explained J.D., removing a cloth from a side pocket on her suit, “have gone very far away.” She then gently began wiping the chocolate off Katy’s nose and cheeks. “Do you understand that?”

Katy looked forlorn but nodded her head slowly.

A few stifled cries of grief could be heard.

“I don’t think they’ll be able to come back, okay?”

Again Katy nodded, though this time she was pushing her tiny lower lip into the upper.

“But I know they would want me to find a better place for you. I can do that, you know. I can find you a better place.”

“Of course you can,” Katy beamed, “you kill monsters!” As if in her mind, the two tasks naturally went hand in hand.

Another tear fell down J.D.’s face as a small laugh escaped her lips. “Yes, sweet child. I kill monsters.” J.D. wiped the tear from her face. “Would that be okay, Katy … if I find you a better place?”

Katy looked solemnly at J.D. “Is Daddy with Mommy?”

“Yes, little one.”

“Are they happy?”

“Yes, little one.”

“Promise?”

J.D. crossed her chest. “Cross my heart.” Too late, she remembered the last refrain of the saying. Fortunately Katy didn’t finish it for her.

Katy looked to another neighbor in the crowd. “Is that what Mommy would want, Mr. Lee?”

The man nodded his head. “Oh yes, dear. Absolutely. I think I remember your mom saying something about that, ‘If I can’t get back soon, make sure Katy gets to Admiral Black. She’ll know what to do.’”

For a brief moment the young girl eyed the man suspiciously but then cast all doubt aside. She then looked at J.D. and smiled, nodding her approval. Having decided it was all right, Katy raised both her hands. The suddenness of the move, so familiar to parents but completely unfamiliar to J.D., resulted in the girl waiting longer than she expected.

“Uppy,” she demanded, and that was plenty enough for J.D., who immediately scooped Katy into her willing arms and was rewarded with another death grip around her neck. Katy wasn’t letting go for nothing. Without another word, J.D., Katy, Fatima, and ten assault miners headed down the corridor toward Cyrus Anjou’s office. This time the crowds parted as if commanded by Moses himself.

Office of the Governor, Titan, Jupiter subsystem

Much like the exterior corridors, the offices, meeting rooms, and other places that made up the executive offices were almost filled to the brim. J.D. added Fatima, Katy, and the miners to their numbers as she marched alone into Cyrus’s office. On her way into the room, she glanced over her shoulder to see Fatima singing to the child in a soft, cheerful voice. J.D. was surprised to notice what a lovely voice it was. She allowed a smile, seeing how well it kept the girl occupied, and at last arrived at the office of the Governor. It was blessedly empty of people except for a single man.

J.D. noticed that the normally paunchy Cyrus looked quite svelte. She found that to be disturbing only because Cyrus had been the only man she’d ever met in the Outer Alliance who looked overweight. It was true, nanites were supposed to be able to keep you at a healthy weight no matter how much you ate, but Cyrus seemed to take that as a challenge, and a challenge he’d been winning. J.D. gave him an appraising look as she took the seat he’d beckoned her toward.

“Have you even eaten
anything
in the past two weeks?” she asked.

Cyrus, sitting comfortably behind his desk, waved the question away as if it were a bug. “Weren’t you the one who told me I have to go on a diet? And by the way, nice to see you too.”

“You’re talking like Rabbi now. Don’t answer the question with a question. When was the last time
you
ate?”

He sighed. “Maybe two weeks ago, but I have supplement pills that provide me with all the basics. That, combined with my ample reserves, gives me at least a month or two.” He smiled briefly, but the smile flattened out. Even he knew it to be disingenuous.

“I’ve ordered all the food my ship can transport to this complex.”

“It’s not enough, J.D. I have two hundred and twenty thousand people in a small government complex designed to house a maximum of thirty thousand, and it’s like that on every complex on Titan. This rock has maybe life support for eight million from pole to pole, and we’ve got a hundred and five. It’s the same for each one of the moons and habitable asteroids we have left.”

“Then we’ll send as much food as we can transport to wherever you tell us,” J.D. offered.

Cyrus laughed. “Do you realize what your ship reducing itself to half rations will do for us?” Cyrus fiddled with his DijAssist. “Hold on.… Ah! I have worked it out. Your two weeks’ worth of rations for the thirty-one hundred crew members on your ship comes to a little over half a ration bar for every man, woman, and child here.” Though he wore a smile, it was tinged with sadness. “You can’t do for them what you did for that child, J.D.”

Now it was J.D.’s turn to laugh. “News travels fast.”

“My dear, it was on the Neuro.”

“But it didn’t happen more than ten minutes ago!”

Cyrus shrugged. “Guess someone in the crowd recorded it. By my newly found faith in Jesus Christ, I cried, woman. I didn’t think it was possible for the Alliance to love you more, but they will.”

“I didn’t help the kid out so the Alliance would love me, Cyrus. That’s preposterous. I did it because—” J.D. clenched her teeth as she fumbled for a reasonable explanation. “—well, because—”

“Because it was the only acceptable response a decent human being could have in the face of so much tragedy,” offered Cyrus. “And you, Janet Delgado Black, are a decent human being.” He held up his hand to stifle her openmouthed protest. “Oh, you’re still the scariest SOB I’ve ever met, and I never, ever want to get on the list of people you don’t like, but you showed everyone just how much you cared. The people of the Alliance will need to know that if we’re to survive this war.”

J.D. sighed and nodded. If the people wanted an uplifting moment, then who was she to deny them? Cyrus was right, and even if he wasn’t, it wasn’t like it would make an iota of difference trying to argue with him.

“But there are millions of children like her around Jupiter,” argued Cyrus, “You cannot possibly adopt them all.”

J.D.’s head jerked backwards as her eyes opened wide. “What?”

“I said, you cannot possibly adopt—”

“Stop right there!” she demanded. “I … I haven’t adopted anyone.”

Cyrus burst out laughing. “Of course you did, woman. What do you think happened?”

J.D.’s mouth hung open. She attempted to speak a few times, but only gibberish came out. She decided not to say a word as she played the scene back in her head. Never
once
did she remember saying the word “adopt.” “Help,” maybe; “adopt” never.

“Listen, Cyrus. I just had to make sure she was all right—that she’d find a better place. That woman she was with could hardly take care of herself, let alone Katy. I assure you I had no intention…” J.D. stopped talking, flabbergasted at the mess she’d gotten herself into. She almost never acted without considering some of the ramifications.

Cyrus saw the confusion on her face and smiled reassuringly. “You’ve spent so much time being everybody’s perfect soldier, you forgot what it’s like to be human. Don’t worry, the child will teach you. Just don’t be so proud that you don’t let her.”

“Cyrus—” J.D. looked around the room, even though there was no one present. “—I can’t possibly be that girl’s mother. I can barely take care of me, for Allah’s sake.”

Cyrus got up from his chair and came around the desk. He sat on the chair next to J.D. and put a reassuring hand on her knee. “Of course you can, Janet.” He’d used her familiar name for effect, and both he and J.D. knew it.

“For goodness’s sake, Cyrus, what kind of mother could I be to her? Shlepping from one end of the solar system to the other, gone for months at a time? Always putting myself in harm’s way? That’s no life.”

“As opposed to this?” asked Cyrus, using his arms to indicate the chaos just outside the door. “I’ll tell you right now what kind of mother you’ll be, Janet—the best kind. Because you’ll love that little girl no matter what. For goodness’s sakes, woman, you love her already; that much was clear just from watching the vids. And one day this war will be over. I have a feeling it’ll be sooner rather than later, and then it will be just the two of you—that is, until you find another Manny. Girl needs a father figure.”

J.D. mulled over Cyrus’s words. Bastard was two for two. Though J.D. had no experience being a parent, Cyrus had been correct—the love she felt for that child was visceral, and it was undeniably real. She
could
be the mother to that child, whether it terrified her or not, and J.D. would, to the best of her ability, see that the child, now
her
child, was raised free from the corporate bastards who’d done their level best to first enslave and then murder …
her
daughter. For some reason, Allah had placed the delicate bird into the palm of J.D.’s hands in much the same way that J.D. had dropped into those of Fawa. The fleet admiral smiled, shaking her head in disbelief. “Allah’s will be done.”

Cyrus patted her on the knee and reclined into the chair, lips curled up into a contented smile. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

J.D. laughed. “When have I not?”

Cyrus gave a deep-throated guffaw.

“Speaking of letting others help,” said J.D.

Cyrus’s laughter came to a crashing halt. He knew why she was in his office.

“I cannot countenance such a position.”

“So you’ve read the communication from the Secretary of Relocation.”

“Abandon Jupiter?” Cyrus shouted. “But we won!”

“No, Cyrus. We
survived
. And if we’re going to keep on surviving, we’re going to have to make more sacrifices.”

The Governor’s eyes were now downcast, his voice forlorn. “But how can we just leave our home?”

J.D. put a hand on his shoulder. “We can always come back.”

“No,” Cyrus muttered, resigned. “I have the terrible feeling most of us never will. And we have no choice.”

Executive offices, Burroughs, Mars

Porfirio stood, arms clasped behind his back, frame rigid at attention. He was in front of a man whom no one—at least no one living in the corporate core of the solar system—
ever
wanted to piss off.

“How can we not know what’s happening, Porfirio?” demanded Hektor. The meeting had purposely been kept to two, as Hektor didn’t want to face the media or his Cabinet without first having gathered the necessary information.

“Mr. President, there
is
a fleet around Jupiter. That much we can make out, but we can’t be sure if it’s ours, theirs, or a bunch of ore haulers. That being said…”

“Out with it, Porfirio.”

“Gupta and his fleet are gone.”

Hektor gritted his teeth, took a few deep breaths, and motioned for Porfirio to continue.

“We’ve gotten images over the past four hours, and whatever those ships are, they’ve been clustered around the last remaining high-value asteroids of Jupiter for over three hours.”

“Three hours, huh?”

Porfirio nodded his head. “I’m sorry to say, yes.”

“Shit.”

Both knew that if Gupta had still been around, the high-value asteroids would not have been.

“What does Trang say?”

“The grand admiral concurs. He hopes that some of Gupta’s ships will escape, but says not to count on it.”

“And J.D.?”

“He believes, as do I, that if it is J.D., there will be no mercy—not after Fleet Order 8645.”

“Say anything about how he plans to counter this?”

“Unfortunately—” Porfirio’s left cheek rose slightly. “—no.”

“Shit, Porfirio. Gupta was the second best we had. Whatever Trang’s got planned, I hope it’s pretty fucking spectacular.”

“As do I, sir.”

“I suppose I should get Irma in here to figure out how to spin this thing.”

Porfirio nodded. “Mr. President, it’s bad. Possibly ‘my head on a platter’ bad.”

Both men shared a look whose rough translation amounted to,
Whatever happens, it’s business, not personal.

“On the bright side, the Alliance has effectively lost Jupiter. They lost nine tenths of their habitable asteroids. According to Gupta before he—” Porfirio paused. “—before he lost contact, most of those were relatively empty. That means Jupiter is experiencing a life support problem vaster than anything in history. We’re talking seven, eight hundred million people to prevent from slowly starving to death, suffocating, or both. If they’re lucky, they’ll be able to evacuate the bulk of the population, if not…” Porfirio let the last statement hang. “Either way, that stretch of the woods is finished as an effective base of resistance. Thanks to Gupta, our enemies now have half the population they started the war with, and their industrial capacity is crippled. While our population is as strong as ever and now outnumbers them twenty to one. We just have to keep pounding that message home to the pennies. Let them know that we’re winning.”

Porfirio’s DijAssist blinked to life. He looked to Hektor for permission to answer.

Hektor tipped his head.

“Well,” said Porfirio, eyes focused on the incoming data, “that
is
interesting.”

Hektor rolled his eyes. “What now?”

“It appears our friend Omad Hassan has chosen now to reappear.”

“Where?”

“Earth—he’s three days out.”

Hektor leaned forward, clasping his fingers. “Well, that is very interesting, indeed.”

“Looks like a task force of thirty ships.”

Hektor flipped on his holo-tank so that the image of Omad’s fleet now floated above his desk. He zoomed the display onto the AWS
Spartacus.
Hektor then used his index finger to slowly spin the ship around from bow to port, port to bow. “What are you doing, old man?” A thin, cruel smile appeared on Hektor’s lips as he eyed the ship with morbid fascination. “What’s Old Legless gotten himself up to, eh?”