Excelsior (53 page)

“Twelve years late,” she reminded him.

“Time is an illusion,” Alexander said.

Catalina smiled. “And love is the only truth.”

Alexander nodded. “Let mine be yours.”

“About damn time, Alex,” she said, and pulled him in for another kiss.

 

Epilogue

Alexander lay in bed beside Catalina, wide awake and watching her sleep. He’d forgotten how beautiful she was.

On her side of the bed Dorian lay in his crib, also sleeping soundly. Alexander had asked a few junior ratings from engineering to fashion that crib for Dorian. Catalina was a civilian, so she didn’t belong with the fleet, but for now Alexander would rather stretch the rules to have her aboard the Hancock, than send her stateside where civil unrest was still in full swing in the aftermath of President Baker’s arrest.

Alexander’s comm band trilled, interrupting his thoughts. He muttered a curse under his breath and lunged for the end table where he’d left it. Fumbling around in the drawer, he pulled out his comm band and brought it up to his lips.

“What?” he answered, getting ready to bite the caller’s head off.

“It’s Captain Tristan, sir.”

“What are you doing up at this hour?” he asked in a fierce whisper. He climbed out of bed and went to the office adjoining his quarters so he could speak without waking Caty or Dorian. “No, never mind,” he went on as he waved open the door and breezed through to his desk. “What are you doing calling me at this hour?”

“It’s important, sir.”

“I’m listening.”

“We received a transmission from a Minister Wang Jun, who is claiming to be the Confederate Chancellor’s direct representative. Apparently the Chancellor wants to re-open peace talks.”

“Then why isn’t he calling Acting President Luther?”

“He wants you to negotiate the treaty. According to Mr. Wang, any man who would rather betray his country than his conscience is a man who can be trusted.”

Alexander snorted. “They got it all backward, Captain. I didn’t betray my country; my country betrayed me.”

“Semantics, Admiral. What would you like me to tell Mr. Wang?”

“They’re still waiting for a reply?”

“Yes.”

“Tell him I’ll be right there to speak with him in person.”

“See you soon then, sir.”

Going back to his quarters, Alexander crossed over to his locker and pulled out a fresh uniform. He was halfway through getting dressed when Caty woke up to ask what he was doing.

“The Confederacy wants to sign a peace treaty. Apparently I’m the only one they trust enough to negotiate the terms.”

“What?” Catalina asked, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Where are you going? It could be a trap, Alex.”

“Relax, I’m not going anywhere—” He said while yanking on his boots. “—just to the bridge to answer their transmission. If I do meet with anyone it will be in neutral territory, under tightly-controlled circumstances.”

“Okay… but be careful what you agree to.”

“I will, darling,” he said, now buttoning up his uniform. Once dressed, he crossed over to her side of the bed and dropped a quick peck on her lips. “Go back to bed.”

“I love you,” she said.

“Me, too,” he replied as he headed out the door and ran down the corridor to the nearest elevator.

Less than five minutes later, Alexander stepped out of that elevator and onto the bridge.

Captain Tristan stood with his hands clasped behind his back, staring out over the moonlit waters of the Indian Ocean. The rest of the bridge crew sat at their stations, almost too busy to notice his arrival. A petty officer standing guard by the doors announced him—

“Admiral on deck!”

Everyone looked away from their stations to offer a brisk salute.

“At ease,” Alexander said. “Report, Captain,” Alexander ordered.

Captain Tristan turned from the view and nodded. “Good to see you, Admiral—Lieutenant Campos, get Minister Wang back on the comms.”

“Aye, Captain… connection established. Transmitting.”

“On-screen,” Tristan replied.

Alexander stopped beside Captain Tristan, and watched as the viewport directly in front of them faded from moonlit waters to the unsmiling face of Chinese man with narrow, aristocratic features and hawkish light gray eyes.

“It is the lion himself. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Good evening, Minister,” Alexander replied. “I’m told your government wants to talk terms.”

“What’s left of my government, yes.”

“I’m listening.”

“We would like to put an end to the fighting in exchange for amnesty for all our soldiers and all our people, myself and the chancellor included.”

“So no one gets to pay for their crimes.”

“The victor will always try to pin the blame on their enemy, but ask yourself—did we do anything that your government did not also do? Did our soldiers take more lives than yours? If we keep score to see who committed the greater evil, I am certain that the Alliance will win.”

Alexander frowned, unable to argue with that. “Listen, Mr. Wang, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you’re talking to the wrong man. My government has not given me the authority to negotiate a peace treaty, so anything I agree to isn’t official.”

“We are giving you that authority by insisting that you be the one to communicate our terms to your new president. When you do so, be sure to remind him that we are giving up our way of life, allowing your government to come in and turn everything upside down—if that is what they think is best—and in exchange, all that we ask is that you do not make us the scapegoats for this war. Both sides have done terrible things, but it is time for humanity to put terrible things aside, yes?”

“I couldn’t agree more, Minister,” Alexander said, nodding. “I’ll communicate your terms. I sincerely hope my government accepts them. Is there anything else you would like to add?”

“A word of caution.”

“And that is?”

“Our surrender does not guarantee the surrender of all Confederate forces everywhere, or a smooth transition of power. All it means is that you will have created a safe place for as many people as possible to lay down their arms and go on with their lives.”

Alexander narrowed his eyes at that. “Either you’re double-talking, or your government no longer has the authority to give orders to its troops.”

“If I were trying to deceive you, I would not warn you ahead of time. As for how much authority still rests with my government—that remains to be seen. If nothing else, having an official treaty in place will give the appearance of unity. That is a step in the right direction, Admiral.”

“Agreed. I’ll relay your terms to the president.”

“Good.”

“How do I reach you again?”

“I’m not going anywhere, but if you or any of your people try to capture me or harm me in any way, this deal is off the table.”

“Understood. And how do we know that you have the authority to negotiate for the Chancellor?”

“Because I am his son.” The camera shifted sideways, and a more familiar face swept into view. Chancellor Wang Ping had been standing there all along, listening to the entire exchange.

Alexander blinked. “Chancellor…”

“Take our terms to your government. It’s time to end this war.”

Alexander nodded. “I’ll be in touch, Chancellor.”

The chancellor nodded, and both he and his son faded from view as the transmission ended. The viewport became transparent once more, and back was the moonlit water.

Captain Tristan blew out a breath. “I didn’t see that coming.”

“Neither did I,” Alexander replied.

“Let’s hope President Luther goes for it.”

Alexander nodded, his eyes narrowing on the dark line of the horizon, as if trying to see into tomorrow. “We’ll find out soon enough, Captain. Get me President Luther on the comms.”

*

Six Months and One Week Later - September 17th, 2793

“I’m resigning my commission tomorrow,” Alexander said, setting his briefcase down on the kitchen counter as he walked in.

Catalina turned from washing carrots in the sink. Her eyes flew wide, and before Alexander knew it, she dropped the carrots and leapt into his arms. He caught her with a grunt and stumbled back a step. She showered him with kisses, and he began to laugh.

She withdrew, suddenly suspicious. “You’re not joking, are you?”

He shook his head.

“I thought you said you had some unfinished business to attend to—that’s why you were staying an extra week.”

“I did, but that’s all settled now.”

Catalina smiled, her eyes sparkling, and went back to kissing him. “Someone’s getting lucky tonight,” she murmured against his neck as she unbuttoned his uniform.

Alexander’s comm band trilled and he caught Caty’s wrists in his hands, stopping her from undressing him. “I need to take this.”

“Hmmm.”

“Don’t worry. It won’t take long.”

“It better not,” she said, climbing off him and wagging a finger in his face. She grabbed his face with one hand, smushing his cheeks together. “You’re mine now.”

He smiled and nodded. In the distance he heard Dorian crying from his crib. Alexander jerked his chin in that direction. “Sounds like someone’s calling you, too.”

Catalina went to check on Dorian, and Alexander turned away to answer his call.

“Admiral de Leon speaking.”

“Admiral, it’s Stone—sorry to bother you—just checking to see where you’d like to send our new conscript.”

Alexander considered that for a moment. The war had ended six months ago with the signing of the World Peace Treaty of 2793, which Alexander had personally helped to negotiate, but ironically the Alliance needed soldiers now more than ever. Not everyone was content to stop the fighting, and defending the entire planet against random acts of terror was no small task. The military had effectively been co-opted into a kind of heavily-armed police force, and Alexander didn’t see the need for soldiers diminishing anytime soon.

“What about Stalingrad?” he said. “Nice and cold, and I hear the Russian reds are even more formidable than the Chinese ones.”

“Are you sure, sir?”

Alexander frowned. “Something you’d like to get off your chest, Lieutenant?”

“He’s your son’s father. If he dies, you might catch some heat from that.”

“We’re not doing anything illegal, Ryder. He should have thought about the consequences before he decided to cross state lines without a passport. You think it’s fair that he gets a free pass and the rest of us all had to risk life and limb to get here?”

“No, sir.”

“Besides, a man who beats a woman is a coward. If he lives out his term of service, at least we can be sure that he won’t be one anymore. It’s about time he picked a fight with someone who could fight back. You have your orders.”

“Yes, sir. Stalingrad it is.”

“De Leon out.” Alexander ended the comm call and turned to see his wife facing him, arms crossed over her chest, her blue eyes sad and full of disappointment. He started when he saw her and tried to affect a smile, hoping that she hadn’t overheard much.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Alex. Dorian is going to ask about him one day.”

Alexander felt his expression darken. “Let him ask. I’ll tell him that I obeyed the law and his biological father broke it. Whatever happens, it’s on David’s head, not mine.”

Catalina shrugged and turned away. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“Why shouldn’t he pay for what he did?”

“What he did to me, or by breaking the law?”

“Both.”

Caty sighed. “I didn’t say he shouldn’t be punished, just that I didn’t want you to get your hands dirty. I don’t want our son to blame you someday.”

“He can’t blame me for something he doesn’t know.”

“Lies have a way of revealing themselves, Alex. Not even silence can keep them. The truth always comes out.”