“We know. The Carriers were always a relic of a different age. The cost to maintain those monsters was mind-boggling.”

  “In my role on the advisory council for this conference, I spoke to many ambassadors,” Jen said. “We’ve all been pleasantly surprised to the point of dumbfounded by Earth’s new outlook. A few suspected it might be a Chancellor ruse, but I’m pleased to see otherwise.”

  “It’s not been easy. The political infighting never ceases. Premier Warner has walked a delicate line, especially for a man who never wanted the position.”

  “Oh?”

  Rikard looked away, as if deciding whether to elaborate.

  “After we defeated the United Chancellor Front and established a provisional government, Hugh wanted out. He was exhausted. The cost of victory was too high, he said. But he was the face of the Warner Alliance. We begged him until he had no choice.”

  “He seems to be doing an exceptional job.”

  “He plans to retire in two years. We’ll have our first elections top-down.” He turned to Kara. “I think our peace will hold until then. After that, all bets are off.”

  Kara saw where he was headed.

  “You think Chancellors will try to take back control?”

  “They’ll try. The UCF hard-liners are still out there. That’s why we’re moving as fast as we can to rebuild the economy and establish relations across the galaxy. We want to put forward the strongest possible case to form a permanent government.”

  “We’ve had our own economic problems,” she said. “Also a product of our own doing. We have hard-liners who’d love to go back to the old ways of doing business. We can learn from each other.”

  “Yes. I heard about the issue with your agriculture. Shocking.”

  “We’re hopeful the land will heal in a few years. People want to work and have food on the table. It’s a simple equation.”

  Rikard slipped his glasses off and tucked them into a breast pocket. Kara saw a weary man.

  “Sometimes, it is,” he said. “A hundred thousand people applied for the six hundred positions on this ship.”

  “They’ve been nothing short of spectacular since we arrived.”

  “It was a massive operation. We vetted every candidate to the nth degree, for security. Especially the Chancellor-born. I’m amazed we filled the positions in time.”

  His eyes bulged while he made a quick scan of the surroundings.

  “It just occurred to me, Ambassador. I did not see Hamilton Cortez with your delegation. Wasn’t he supposed to be here as a special advisor?”

  Kara chose her words with care. The last time they spoke, Ham’s tone left her uneasy.

  “He will be. We received word he was on his way. He had some last-minute business.”

  “Good. I’m eager to speak with him. I want to update him on our progress with the genetic reversal therapy.”

  “Have you verified if it will work?” Kara said.

  “The first tests show promise, but the trials will take months. We’re trying to reverse centuries of genetic engineering.”

  A month after the Battle of Pinchon, Ham delivered vital medical research to friendly contacts in Earth’s unity government. The Scylla crew had acquired the data from Aldo Cabrise, who developed it on Aeterna but had to sneak it past Michael Cooper. It offered hope to end the Chancellors’ slow but inevitable genetic collapse.

  “I am curious,” Jen said. “You were Solomon-born. Yes? As was Premier Warner.”

  “We were.”

  “Is it prudent to provide an avenue whereby the Chancellors may one day regrow in numbers rather than dying out over the next few generations? I don’t mean to sound harsh, VP.”

  “You’re not, Ambassador. Our Administration asked the same question when we received Cabrise’s research. Once we pushed through the ethical debate, we looked at the name over the door and made our decision. We’re the unity government. Old enemies or new, they’re children of Earth. We have to give them hope.”

  Jen raised his glass to Rikard.

  “Well said.”

  “There’s also the political calculus. If we tried to suppress the cure and news of it leaked, we’d be at war tomorrow. On the other hand, if the trials succeed, we’ll use this gift as leverage for votes.”

  Kara changed her initial thoughts of Rikard. He looked unimposing, but he played for keeps. The Vice-Premier lowered his voice.

  “Of course, I hope you understand I’m being a bit too honest. I’d appreciate if you keep that to yourselves.”

  “Naturally,” Jen said.

  Rikard reached for his glass and pushed back his chair.

  “I have loose-lip syndrome. I probably should circulate. I’ve been monopolizing your time. I …”

  “Actually,” Kara said. “If you could give us two more minutes? There’s a sensitive topic I wanted to discuss.”

  Cando tapped his knee against hers beneath the table. He knew where she was headed and wasn’t sure this was the best time. Rikard retook his seat with a hearty laugh.

  “If it doesn’t involve me disclosing more classified details.”

  “Not at all. I wondered: How well do you know Michael Cooper?”

  His face lit up.

  “Michael and I go back twelve years. He’s a great friend. Why?”

  “Have you spoken to him recently?”

  “A few weeks ago. He had some concerns about the conference.”

  “I heard he didn’t want any Chancellor-born to attend.”

  “Michael has always carried his emotions on his sleeve. He knew we couldn’t grant the request.”

  “Are you concerned what might happen when he arrives?”

  He substituted “yes” with a long sigh.

  “There will be tension, Ambassador. Most Chancellors hold the Aeternans directly responsible for bringing down their empire. But we barred Aeternans who fought with Salvation, and no one on the crew or in my delegation lost family on the Carriers they destroyed. Their rooms are assigned far apart to limit contact, but we can’t do anything about the general assembly or the breakout sessions. Then there are the social events and the common areas and …”

  “I’m sure you’ve thought of everything. I’m not worried about your people, or even the Aeternan delegates. Our issue is with Michael. Do you trust him to keep himself in check?”

  His smile disappeared.

  “Is there something I should know?”

  Cando tapped her knee again and stepped in with a response.

  “The Scylla spent a month with the Aeternans. We had some challenging moments with Michael. He’s volatile and unpredictable.”

  “I don’t understand. He aided in your fight with the Swarm.”

  “And we’re grateful. We needed his resources. However, he was a reluctant participant. We found him abrasive and inflexible. Frankly, a paranoid narcissist. You met him twelve years ago. When was the last time you actually sat down with him?”

  Rikard screwed his eyes, as if they weren’t speaking of the same person. Kara hoped they hadn’t offended him.

  “I was there when Michael and his future wife crossed an IDF into our world with …” He groaned. “With the other one. We became great friends. He struggled to find a purpose on Earth. He joined the Solomon insurgency. The last time I saw him was late 5357. Samantha had been kidnapped and taken off-world. He left on a mission to find her. The next time I heard from him …”

  Rikard shrugged before he resumed.

  “He was running Aeterna. Supreme Admiral Angela Poussard surrendered to him. It was the most incredible thing I’d ever heard.”

  “You talked with him afterward, but never in person?”

  “We conversed through indirect channels. He helped the Warner Alliance when we were struggling.”

  “Weapons?” Cando said.

  “Technology. That’s really all I can say.”

  “So, you owe him?”

  “He’s my friend. Look, I’m sure Michael is not the same man I knew years ago. He’s been through the ringer. We both have. War leaves a permanent scar. Are you saying Michael poses a threat to our work?”

  Kara jumped back in.

  “We hope not. Perhaps he’ll be on his best behavior. But we think he should be watched.”

  Rikard snapped up from his chair, and this time Kara knew he’d be moving on. Had they pushed him too far?

  “I’m not beholden to nostalgia,” he said. “I’ll keep your concerns in mind. If I detect trouble, I’ll handle it personally. You have my word.”

  “Thank you, Vice-Premier. We all want the same thing. Success.”

  Rikard left to mingle elsewhere.

  “What do you think?” Jen asked.

  “He’s a good man,” Cando said. “He carries a heavy weight, but he does it well.”

  “Will he address your concerns about Minister Cooper?”

  “Hard to say. Michael takes over a room with minimal resistance.”

  “He evaded your question about weapons,” Kara said. “Ham says Michael and Rikard arranged for the Warner Alliance to receive graviton weapons from Aeterna. They turned the war around but killed millions. Those friends have an awful lot of the same blood on their hands.”

  “I see your point,” Jen said.

  Thirty-nine delegations were due to arrive in the next thirty standard hours. The most interesting day of the conference was about to begin.

  8

  C OL. EXETER WOOLSEY OPENED THE BOTTLE of sanque he brought onboard the Aston James. He stretched out on his bed and didn’t offer his roommate any. Col. Llewyn Stannes hated the green liquor; he preferred Aeterna’s dark beer and regretted not bringing a supply. At this moment, Stannes sat in a corner chair with his tablet studying the first days of the conference agenda. The man mumbled irritation earlier when he learned he’d have to share a room.

  “Have you read this, Exeter?” Stannes asked without looking up.

  “I plan to.”

  “They’re going to keep us busy. Fourteen standard hours the first day. Session after session focused on Swarm battle techniques, weaponry, fleet operations. I suppose you’ll have the spotlight.”

  “They’ll ask questions, but Cando and Yusef are the real experts. I fought in the ground war. They have experience in space as well.”

  Stannes looked up.

  “Don’t allow them to dominate, Exeter. The Minister expects you to make us proud. He wouldn’t have brought you along otherwise.”

  Exeter threw back his drink and reached for the bottle.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Many of us know about your insubordination. It’s disappointing, Exeter. The Minister has earned our allegiance.”

  Of course they know. Michael made sure of it.

  “Everything I do is for Aeterna. You and I are on the same side, Colonel. Please don’t forget it. That’s all I’ll say on the matter.”

  “I never meant to imply otherwise, Exeter.”

  Sure, you did.

  He didn’t know Stannes well. They commanded separate divisions, and Stannes was never his direct superior during the early months. If he resented Exeter’s rapid rise, Stannes kept it quiet.

  “When do the sessions focus on fleet-building and training soldiers?”

  Stannes pushed through the tablet’s screens.

  “Not for at least three days. The precise agenda ends there.”

  “They’re giving us time to make sure we cover all the angles. We’ll probably be setting the next day’s agenda based on where we finish.”

  Stannes groaned.

  “I’d like to see a more specific roadmap. I can’t imagine the Minister will be pleased.”

  “Why?”

  “A loose schedule leaves the others time to slide off-topic, nitpick, and turn their attention to what they can steal from us.”

  Exeter stifled a laugh. Stannes echoed a Michael talking point. He wasn’t a mere supporter of the chain of command; Stannes was a slavish acolyte. Exeter shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d been warned in his final meeting with the cohort. No one in the Aeternan delegation but Rosa Marteen could be trusted to push back against Michael if trouble arose.

  “I wouldn’t worry, Colonel. The fleet will be a cooperative effort. Same for training all the newbs. They’ll understand we don’t have all the answers on Aeterna.”

  Exeter double-tapped his pipe and inhaled. He blew smoke rings while Stannes watched with obvious indignation. Stannes wore a cheek tattoo of a lion leaping at its prey, jaws open.

  “I told you thirty minutes ago, Exeter. I don’t appreciate the leaf. The odor will linger.”

  “I disagree.” He pointed toward slats in the ceiling. “See? The recyclers are very good here.”

  “As a fellow officer, I’d like you to respect my position.”

  “I do. But as a fellow officer, I’d like you to respect my position. I smoke. I have since I was six years old. I find it pleasurable and calming. You might, too, if you gave it a go.”

  Stannes cupped a hand over his face to hide his response.

  “Have it your way, Exeter. You usually do.”

  Exeter cast aside the dig and enjoyed his pipe. Neither said a word while their irises glowed with an Occip bulletin. Michael expected the delegation to convene inside his suite in ten minutes.

  When the glow disappeared, Stannes set the tablet aside and stood before a mirror.

  “I believe the Minister will give us marching orders to go out among the masses and be seen.”

  More than half the delegations had arrived. When Aeterna’s transport jumped in by worm, the warship Charybdis was off-loading nine Alliance delegations. The Earth crew who escorted the immortals on a tour said many other teams had arrived through the Fulcrum using traditional system engines.

  “It’s a wise strategy,” he told Stannes. “I told Michael we needed to mix with the others so they could see us as humans, too. We’ve been a mystery for too long.”

  “Ah. So, you talked the Minister into it?”

  “I never said that. I offered my counsel, as any good officer would. My only concern is these dress uniforms.”

  “What about them?”

  “Maybe a bit on the ornate side. All the buttons, the tassels, and the medals. I wonder if it’s a bit too military.”

  Stannes stood straight and touched up the shiny elements on his deep blue uniform.

  “I don’t see the problem. The uniform conveys strength. Besides, we are a military society.”

  “Most of the delegates are civilians. We passed several during the tour. They’re dressed in traditional garb. We might intimidate them.”

  “Smiles and handshakes, Exeter. The rest will take care of itself.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Stannes stared at Exeter through the mirror.

  “I hesitate to ask, but it’s bothered me, Exeter. What happened to your hair?”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “It’s white, short, and neatly parted. What happened to your braids and the orange aesthetic?”

  Exeter couldn’t tell if Stannes knew about Michael’s order. No one in the delegation had asked about the sudden change, but he did receive a number of quizzical looks. Stannes wore his banana-yellow hair slicked back, with black highlights above the sideburns.

  “I’m in transition, if you must know. I thought time away would give me a chance to think about a new aesthetic.”

  “Huh. What does Col. Silver think about you going milquetoast?”

  “Caleb is happy with whatever I choose. I’m lucky to have someone who loves me that way. What about you, Colonel? Do you have anyone special?”

  “Like most of our people, Exeter, I enjoy many experiences. Perhaps you and Col. Silver are limiting your options.”

  “If we are, I’m sure we’ll have a long conversation one day.” Exeter stowed his pipe. “I think I’ll head down the corridor to the Minister’s suite. I look forward to his marching orders.”

  How many weeks would they have to share a room?

  Alone outside, Exeter took a moment to gather himself.

  Be patient with people. Be pleasant. Smile. Shake their hands. Don’t let the bastards get to you. It’s important work. See it through.

  Moments later, inside the Minister’s suite, Michael delivered a predictable pep talk.

  “Number one thing I want you folks to remember: You’re immortal, and they’re not. Why’s that important? Simple. Jealousy. They won’t come out and say it, but they’re jealous. They’re gonna grow old and die, but not us. And what else have we got? Paradise. The best tech in the galaxy. Oh, and the sharpest fucking uniforms.”

  The last item drew applause.

  “Now, I ain’t telling you this so you walk around the joint with a big head. In fact, just the opposite. They expect you to be a bunch of arrogant punks. We’re the youngest group here, and it ain’t close. We’re gonna use a different game plan. It’s called humble pie.

  “Now, the way you bake this pie is real simple. Number one, you don’t approach anyone until they make eye contact. You smile, they smile. Maybe you bow your head just a touch.” He demonstrated. “The next part, you keep simple. ‘Hello, my name is … fill in the fucking blank.’ If they reciprocate, extend a firm right hand. If they cross that threshold, then you follow-up. ‘Honored to meet you.’ If they wanna talk, make the conversation all about them. Deflect as long as you can. If they have something nice to say about Aeterna, thank them. Then you come back with nothing fancy. ‘We feel very fortunate. We want to help the human race any way we can.’

  “You feel me? It’s all about them. ‘We’re here to help.’ Share the good vibes with the peeps and move on. We wanna build capital so when it comes time for them to play grab-ass with Aeterna, we get something in return. Questions?”

  Rosa Marteen raised her hand.

  “Minister, these are excellent guidelines for social interaction. Eventually, we’ll be debating and negotiating with experts in our respective areas. Shouldn’t we take a firmer line at that point?”

  “Great question. I got a plan. You’ll upload reports to Occip during session breaks. Find a private spot. We don’t wanna call attention to our eyes. I’ll review the data and report back if I think we need to shift our strategy. Every morning, we’ll meet here for an hour. We’ll set a game plan. Expect to rise bright and early.”