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As they neared the coordinates, Goldie worked at her board. The tug slowed perceptively, and soon, a series of tones indicated that they had come to a relative stop. “Control, this is Naut-vee-four-three. We’re at station,” Goldie announced.

“Roger. Proceed with deployment.”

Without bothering to ask if Hunter wanted to do the honors, she reached for the manipulation controls. Hunter didn’t protest… he was content to watch. As Goldie worked, the cradling arm angled out of the way, leaving the payload poised at the end of the manipulator arm. Slowly, the manipulator arm began to unfold and extend, pushing the spherical payload away from the nose of the tug. It took about twenty seconds to extend the payload a distance of five meters from the tug. Then, Goldie tapped a release control, and the manipulator pulled free of a small capture port on the side of the payload.

“Payload away,” Goldie said. “Holding at station.”

“Good job, guys. Come on back.”

And that was it. “Roger,” Goldie said, exchanging another glance with Hunter. “Naut-vee-four-three is on the way back to slip twenty.”

“Good job, guys,” Hunter mocked after Goldie had closed the com channel. “Control, we’ve scratched our asses. ‘Good job, guys.’ I just don’t believe it. That thing,” he pointed at the payload that was even now disappearing from their view as the tug spun around and angled back to Verdant, “better be something defensive. Or, if things get bad, I’ll come back out here and personally drop it right down on top of Denver!”

~

The mood in CnC wasn’t much better than that in a particular tug heading for its dock. The staff was relatively quiet, rendered even more so by the fact that most of them had no traffic to monitor, no supplies deliveries to coordinate, and no communications from the many ground-based stations that interacted with them on a regular basis. It felt as if they had been cut off from the rest of the world, and the isolation was oppressive. Reya Luis practically stalked CnC, as if looking for a single thing, an improper setting at a workstation, a device accidentally turned on or off, that she could pounce on, set right, and restore things to normal.

From one end of the room, Kris watched Reya as much as she worked at the station set aside for her. She had had a conflicted night herself, after spending the afternoon and into the late evening at the compound. She had accompanied Julian there at his request, after the events at Qing, the demonstrations at Fertile, and the supplies embargo from RPI. Kris had been unsure as to why Julian wanted her along as he went to urge the President to intervene in RPI’s decision. Maybe she had managed to give him the impression that she really was an impartial player in this little drama, and that she might manage to help him in his discussions with Lambert. Maybe he had just hoped she would tell Lambert she had found no area where Verdant was hiding some undisclosed advantage over Earth, and therefore win Lambert’s trust. Maybe he just thought having her in the room would prevent him from losing his temper or saying something he shouldn’t.

It had made little difference, as it turned out. Lambert took the position that he had no real control over American businesses, and he certainly could not order RPI’s Gordon to resume deliveries if he chose not to. Lambert then suggested in that perfectly circular logic peculiar to politicians that, if Verdant could offer something to appease the United States—say, an easing of immigration quotas—then he could certainly speak to RPI and try to convince them to do the right thing.

Julian’s response to Lambert’s attitude had been something Kris was not sure she would forget for quite some time. He had calmly but firmly launched into a comprehensive and well-organized dissertation of the state of Verdant, from the satellites’ original origins as orbital factory complexes, to their commissioning by the U.N. as human oases in space, details about its people, their work and the exports they produced for Earth, and finally the delicately-balanced open ecosystem that was so dependent on the cooperation of Earth to maintain, and so doomed to failure without that cooperation.

Kris didn’t remember the last time she’d heard anything so eloquent, so heartfelt, outside of the best theatrical performances… making it all the more impressive, since she knew this was no performance. As Julian spoke, she considered the various facts she had been gathering by working in CnC—although certainly no one would have expected it of her, she actually had used the workstations to research Verdant’s situation, not simply as a platform to conveniently spy on CnC—and she understood the situation much better now than she had a week ago. And so she knew that Julian Lenz was not exaggerating the issue, or dramatizing any point unnecessarily; he was being completely candid with the President.

The impact on her was significant: She was developing serious doubts as to who she should be working for.

In the end, however, Julian’s efforts made no impact on Lambert. Without Julian’s acceptance of eased immigration, he wouldn’t budge. And after hours of back and forth, Julian had simply stood up and walked out of the President’s office, without so much as a “good-bye,” out of the compound, and to the nearest tram station. Kris had fought to think of something to say to Lambert, but he had pre-empted her with “I think this meeting is over.” She had then left the President’s office, and the compound, too late to share a tram back with Julian, too late in the evening to call Aaron (not that she wanted to spend the night with him), and not knowing where any of it was going to lead.

When she turned up in CnC the next morning, Aaron had found her, and seemed satisfied with her explanation for why she had not called him. Not long thereafter, he had been called away himself, and left her in CnC to do her “research.” In truth, she was happy to see him go. There was only one person in CnC that she really wanted to speak to.

But that one person was secured away in his office, and the door between them might as well have been a chasm.

~

Julian actually did not want to simply sit there at his desk. But he was too preoccupied with the current situation, and he knew it. He did not want his people to see him this way, angry, terse, frustrated… it would be worse on them than their being out there and simply wondering what he was doing in here. So he sat, and tried to think constructively about what could be done about such an untenable situation. But he could not keep his mind on constructive things, and every so often, found himself thinking more vindictively than practically. And he’d mentally kick himself for it, and again be glad he was expending all this negative energy while hidden away in his office, and not in CnC where people could see him…

When the knock came at the door, he almost snapped out at it. Instead, he composed himself enough to call out, “Yes?” without sounding like he wanted to bite the head off of whoever dared to interrupt him. The door slid open, and Hadj poked his head meekly inside. Julian knew then that he had indeed managed to spook his staff, in their presence or not. He tried again to mediate his voice into one of calm when he said, “What’s up, Hadj?”

“I’ve finally gotten a response from RPI, sir,” Hadj told him. “I have Walter Gordon on circuit nine-one to talk to you.”

“About time,” Julian muttered. Then: “Thank you, Hadj.” He waited until Hadj had withdrawn and slid the door closed behind him. Then he took a deep breath, and punched up circuit ninety-one on his workstation. A com screen lit up, and Julian recognized Walter Gordon on sight: He had seen Gordon’s face many times before, had communicated more than once, though they had never met directly. Gordon looked at Julian impassively, his eyes narrowed slightly in his soft face… and upon seeing that expression, any intention Julian had had of giving the man the benefit of the doubt flew right out the window.

“Walter,” Julian began. “Nice of you to finally deign to speak to me.”

“Julian,”
Gordon replied.
“First of all, I apologize for not being able to talk yesterday. You have no idea what’s been going on here.”

Julian raised an eyebrow. “I can relate.”

“Yesterday we had a ballistic go blind and plunge into Death Valley.”

Julian regarded the screen for a moment. “I hadn’t heard.”

“We were lucky. It missed a solar generating plant by only two kilometers. The DOE is very unhappy with me.”

“They’re not the only ones, Walter.”

“Now come on, Julian! Don’t take that tone with me!”
Gordon played the injured party well, just well enough to keep Julian from laughing in his face.
“I’m doing everything I can to get supplies off the ground… but this ash layer is just being too hard on my ballistics. After yesterday, I have no choice but to run a full operations check before I can authorize another launch! I have no choice in the matter!”

“Walter, you know we need those deliveries to survive. What possible reason could you have to hold us up like this?”

“Now, Julian… we both know the satellites can hold out for months without supplies. Listen, this’ll blow over! We both know it! Probably in… I don’t know… five or six weeks, depending on the breaks… give or take two weeks…”

“Christ, Walter, do you know how close that will push us to our limits?...”

“I don’t control the weather, Julian. I’m doing the best I can… but it’s difficult from here.”

Julian was alerted by the change in Gordon’s cadence. Finally, a hint of what he had expected all along. “What do you need, Walter?”

“Oh, it’s not what I need,”
Gordon said quickly.
“I’m just trying to straighten out a problem… at your end, actually. The RPI offices on Verdant are falling down on the job of providing us with needed logistics, and it looks like we need to make some major personnel changes up there. The only problem is, it’s difficult to get a handle on it from down here, especially now, and we’re still working on it.”
Gordon paused, as if he’d thought of something.
“What we really need is to get up there to do a direct evaluation of the facility, in order to make some changes. Some good, long-term changes that will keep them running at speed even after the crisis is over.”
He stopped and thought again.
“Julian, there is one thing you can do, now that I think of it.”

“What do you
need
, Walter?” Julian repeated.

“Julian,
I
need to see that facility,”
Gordon said.
“But I need authorization for a temporary visa to do a visit. I’ve been trying to get it through channels for over a month, but… is there any way you can see clear to getting that authorization rushed through? It would mean a lot to getting this problem straightened out.”

Julian stared at the screen, sure he was trapped in a nightmare.
Is this all you want… all you’d risk… just to get to Verdant? Are you that desperate to escape Earth?
He leaned back from the viewscreen, and rubbed his temple wearily. A tirade of epithets virtually scrolled through his head… things Julian wanted desperately to say to Gordon, to show him how incredibly petty and pathetic Julian considered him. But Walter Gordon held the key to access to the supplies Verdant needed. He had Julian over a barrel, at that moment, and they both knew it.

On the screen, Gordon watched him. After a few moments of silence, he said,
“Julian? Seriously, it would help if I—”

“
Done
, Walter,” Julian cut him off. “Get your ass up here… straighten out this problem… and get my supplies flying. Understand?”

Gordon’s face immediately brightened.
“I’ll be on the first transport I can get—”

Julian severed the connection before he could finish.

When Julian finally came out of his office, minutes later, his face was impassive. Kris saw him as soon as his door opened, but she pointedly did not stare after him. Reya also saw him appear, and approached as he walked slowly past the workstations towards the center station. She fell in step beside him, as he strolled slowly around the station.

“I’m authorizing a temporary visa to Walter Gordon of RPI,” Julian said to Reya without preamble. “Assuming he actually gets a flight into orbit, make sure he is cleared to visit Verdant.”

Reya could tell from Julian’s face that it was the wrong time to ask for details or clarifications on the subject. “I’ll take care of it.”

Julian continued to walk, heading towards the corridor that was the exit from CnC. When Reya realized he was leaving, she said, “In case we get boarded, where will you be?”

Julian finally stopped, turned and looked back at Reya. A tick of a smile crossed his face. “Checking the powder room.” Then he continued on.

One of the technicians who was nearby Reya repeated, “Powder room?”

Reya regarded the technician. “That’s what you used to call the place where you stored your explosives and armaments,” she explained calmly. By the time she had turned back to the corridor, Julian was out of sight. “Sure wish we actually had some of those,” she added quietly.

Reya returned to the central workstation, trying to find a ray of good news somewhere in the pall of chaos that seemed to hang over everything. She was so involved with her examinations that she didn’t notice the empty workstation where Kris Fawkes had been working.

Kris turned out to be surprised when she realized Julian was not actually headed for the science sections, as she had guessed. Instead, Julian visited Aaron Hardy in his office. Kris had slipped out of CnC after Julian had left, even managing to get out unnoticed by Reya Luis, who was so distracted by the events of the last twenty-four hours that her hawk-like monitoring had finally slipped. She had then shadowed Julian, trying to figure out his next move… and hers.

His stop at Aaron’s office gave her pause. She believed Aaron knew, or thought he knew, something that would help them… but she didn’t think Julian suspected that. Had he figured it out? Maybe not: If Julian thought Aaron was hiding something, he would probably have bypassed him to find out what was really going on. He would have gone to the science section, just as Kris had expected him to do. She was sure that whatever was going on was happening down there. She had hoped that following Julian down there would have given her the opportunity to find out what it was.