“Yes, Minister.”

  A room of immortals nodded in compliance.

  Stannes raised a hand.

  “Minister, some of us might have to work with enemies of Aeterna. I speak of the Chancellor fleet, specifically. How should we respond if they approach us with antagonism?”

  “Personally, Colonel, I’d love to rub it in. I reckon it comes down to context. If there are witnesses, be the bigger man. If trouble follows, we need people to know they started that shit.”

  “If there aren’t witnesses?”

  Michael chuckled under his breath.

  “My wife likes to remind me that discretion is the better part of valor. She’s a diplomat. I’m not. If no one else is around, decide what you can get away with, shy of killing the motherfucker. Just make damn sure he’s from that fleet. We don’t touch anyone in the Earth delegation. Got me?”

  “Yes, Minister.”

  Heads nodded.

  “Anything else?” Michael scanned the crowd. “OK, then. Find yourself a nice place to eat. Have some fun in the clubs. Be seen!”

  The delegates departed. Only Information Minister Rikhi Syed remained behind with Michael. Exeter wasn’t interested in their banter.

  A few immortals fell into small groups by their area of expertise. Others spread out across the vast ship as individuals, covering the most ground in support of Michael’s edict to be visible.

  Exeter and Rosa eyed each other from a distance, Exeter trailing at first then joining her on the lift. The Aeternans were housed on Level Six. Rosa made a passing remark about a Catalan-themed restaurant on Level Ten. Exeter shrugged, allowing her to lead the way.

  They passed a few mortals on their journey, mostly staff in green and white tunics. They encountered half-smiles from other delegates, but no one slowed for introductions. A few, Exeter thought, walked faster. Was he right about these ostentatious uniforms?

  The restaurant was beautifully decorated albeit dimly lit. Mortal delegates occupied a handful of tables. A tan-skinned Earther greeted them with a holo menu.

  “Good evening. I’m excited to serve you.” She pointed to the menu, which carried illustrations. “As you see, we feature many dishes from Catalan, as well as the Madrid Province on Earth. However, like every restaurant on the Aston James, we also have a wide selection from more than twenty other worlds. Would you like to dine with us?”

  Exeter didn’t know how to respond. He whispered to Rosa.

  “I’ve never eaten in a real restaurant.”

  “What? Your whole life?”

  “I was a slave. Then I lived on a barren planetoid. Then I was a soldier. I never had the chance.”

  The Earther must have heard the exchange, given her raised brows. She shifted to a broad smile.

  “We’ll offer you a once in a lifetime experience,” she said. “I’ll take you through the menu and recommend the best dishes.”

  He looked at Rosa.

  “If that’s good with you.”

  “It is. My sister and I left Catalan nine years ago. I didn’t miss much, but I adored the food.”

  En route to the table, they passed a group of four brown-skinned women with long, black hair and floral dresses. Exeter caught their eyes. He nodded and smiled. They stared back without emotion.

  The server seated them and split the holo menu in two.

  “As you see here,” she told Rosa, “the highlighted dishes are borrowed directly from Catalan. The small print includes the region where they originated.”

  “How do you have that information?”

  “Everything here is pulled from the Collectorate database.”

  Rosa scrolled. Seconds into the journey, she gasped.

  “Well, how about that? Port San Daya.”

  “You know it?” Exeter asked.

  “That was my home. I don’t remember this dish, but it looks interesting. Are the ingredients fresh or kiosk?”

  “For this one, a combination. The chili sauce will be synthesized.”

  “Rice, clams, fish, and basque gravy. Brings back the memories. I’ll try it.”

  “Excellent. Simply tap here and here. Very good. For you, sir?”

  He felt like a stupid kid who’d come in from the wild.

  “I don’t know any of these. Can you recommend something?”

  “I am a native of Madrid Province.” She scrolled down his menu. “My town is known for this dish: Toritta. It’s a mélange of crab, mackerel, and prawn plus a mild sausage and herbed tomato sauce.”

  Exeter hated feeling like an idiot.

  “Fine. I’ll take it. Do you have sanque?”

  “Hot or withdrawn?”

  “Withdrawn means cold?”

  “Room temperature.”

  “Yes. That one.”

  “Very good. Tap here, here, and here. Excellent. I’ll return shortly with your meal.”

  Rosa stared at Exeter like he was the birthday boy.

  “Look at you. A brand new life experience.”

  “Don’t make a thing of it, Rosa. By the way, what’s a mackerel?”

  “It’s a fish. You’ll like it.”

  He glanced around the largely empty dining room and caught the eye of the dark-haired women then focused on Rosa.

  “I don’t know why it feels so strange. It’s just another place with tables and chairs. It’s like the public serving house in Promise or the galley on Lioness.”

  “It’s normal, Exeter. You haven’t had much normal in your life.”

  “Normal is what you get used to, Rosa. I got used to a lot of shit. I didn’t have a choice.”

  “Now you do.”

  “Doesn’t mean I won’t stumble around in the dark. I just ordered from a menu for the first time.”

  Rosa reached over and grabbed his hand.

  “What’s really bothering you?”

  He knew little about Rosa outside the cohort, but Exeter saw Lady Samantha’s influence had rubbed off on her. She was Aeterna’s third-ranking diplomat, focused on trade policy.

  “Where do I start? I’m spying on our great leader and hope he doesn’t cause an interstellar incident. I’m nervous about the breakout sessions. I have a roommate who doesn’t trust me.”

  Rosa’s smile stretched the pink camellia blossom on her cheek.

  “Llewyn has always been a bit anal, but he does the honorable thing in a pinch. As for the breakouts, why worry? You’re on the military subcommittee. You’ll be a star.”

  “There will be Generals and Admirals in the room. Mostly Earthers and officers from the Guard. I don’t work well with strangers.”

  “Then sit between Col. Aleksanyan and Col. Matook.”

  “It’s not about that. Some of the committee will know my name, but not for what I did on Hokkaido or fighting Swarm.”

  “Oh, no?”

  “When I lived on Artemis Station with Amayas, there was an incident. The Chancellors threatened us. Amayas ordered me to shoot down a cruiser. I fired a railgun and killed sixteen hundred Chancellors. A few hundred were children.”

  She nodded in apparent recognition.

  “That’s why you were taken prisoner by a deranged Captain.”

  “Capt. Romilius. The truth is, they had just cause to execute me. The only reason the fleet has a delegation is because of their military know-how. I’m not sure how they’ll respond to my presence.”

  “Exeter, I don’t have a military mind like my sister. She flies ships. I negotiate treaties. But I think she’d tell you to get the fuck out of your own way. The Chancellors have no leverage. This is their only chance to come in from the cold. You’re the least of their problems.”

  He appreciated the support but braced for a chilly reception from men with chests full of medals and long memories.

  Dinner arrived with a torrent of unfamiliar aromas. He didn’t realize Toritta was a stew served piping hot and laden with fiery peppers. He didn’t recall the server mentioning the latter. They took him to a place he’d never travelled; the sanque did not bring down the temperature.

  Rosa appeared to enjoy his torment, but he refused to surrender. He heard laughter from a distant table and glanced over his shoulder. The four brown-skinned women who observed him without emotion when he entered now giggled. Their eyes flittered his way.

  A few other tables had filled with diners, but no one else seemed to pay his antics any mind.

  “You haven’t said whether you like it, Exeter.”

  “I do. I could make a whole meal out of the sausage. It tastes so fresh. I didn’t expect that way out here. I’m used to kiosk cooking.”

  “I think the Earthers spared no expense. This conference is crucial. The Minister knows their Vice-Prem …”

  Rosa cut herself off and looked above Exeter. He felt another presence and turned around.

  He recognized the face. She was one of the four women from the corner table.

  “Hello. May I help you?”

  “You may.”

  She helped herself to the closest chair. The woman in a long, floral dress wore a deep, beaded necklace in the colors of a rainbow.

  “You are known to many of us,” she continued. “You are one of the soldiers they call the Twenty Talons.”

  “I am. My name is Exeter Woolsey.”

  She placed her hands over the necklace and closed her eyes as if to pray or reflect. She sighed like someone satisfied at having reached the end of a successful search.

  “Your exploits are legendary.”

  “I only did my part to help the Hokki people.”

  “No. I refer to your service across the great divide. Tell me, Exeter. How many soldiers of the Swarm crusade did you kill?”

  The moment took an awkward turn.

  “I’m not keen to talk about the war. It was very unpleasant.”

  “Oh, of course, I understand. But you are a hero to so many. A defender against the crusade.” She extended her hand. “Many apologies. My name is Ola Osteen. I am Chief Royal Advisor to Queen Marta Leevo of Bolivar.”

  “I’m honored to meet you, Advisor Osteen.”

  “Oh, please. Do call me Ola. Again, though. I would be so interested to know about your experiences in the war. How many devout Swarm soldiers did you kill? Dozens? Hundreds?”

  He swallowed hard and glanced at Rosa, who shrugged. Here they were, being seen. He shook her hand.

  “Hundreds. Yes. Maybe more. We didn’t keep count.”

  Ola did not release her grip.

  “Oh. Astounding. I think of all those poor, devout soldiers who met their end at your hands. All to serve their God. I wonder. Do you, by chance, believe in God?”

  “I’ve never given it much thought.”

  “Sad. I’ve read the reports and have to wonder. How powerful a hold must God have that millions of young men and women would gladly sacrifice themselves to convert the Disbelievers?”

  Who’s side are you on?

  “They murdered innocent civilians wherever they went, Ola. That’s all I can say for sure.”

  “Of course. I have no doubt you will continue the good fight when the Swarm cross the divide. On behalf of Bolivar, I wish you my heartfelt thanks, Exeter Woolsey. The Twenty Talons will always have my people’s support. I hope you lead a great fleet against the Swarm crusade and justice is achieved for the many.”

  Ola kissed him on his tattooed cheek and floated away to rejoin the other women at the corner table. When Exeter glanced their way, the Bolivans shaded their eyes.

  “What just happened?” He asked Rosa.

  “I think you have admirers.”

  A chill coursed through his spine.

  “Are you sure, Rosa? I don’t feel admired.”

  Was this what it meant to be seen?

  9

  A FTER KARA THREW UP, she felt much better. Cando said the culprit might have been the squid she ate for dinner. She thought it was nice of him to avoid the real reason: Kara needed a quiet stomach so she wouldn’t lose its contents in front of a thousand people.

  She would speak fifth at today’s general assembly, the first time in history representatives from every world of the former Collectorate gathered in one room. So, no pressure.

  “It’s a riveting speech,” Cando said after reading her final draft. “Honest and unsparing. You’ll leave a lasting impression.”

  “Until they hear from Joseph Mogandi two minutes later. He’s been giving speeches on the Federated Union floor for years.”

  “Oh, I think he’ll regret having to follow you.”

  They stood before a body-length mirror and put the final touches on their appearance. Cando wore a sharp trench coat. Kara had put up her hair and slipped into a two-piece tunic that didn’t accentuate much of her figure. Both wore a gardenia over their heart.

  “You should be on the dais, too,” she said. “I still can’t believe you dodged it.”

  “I’m not a public speaker, but I am a candidate for fleet Admiral. It will seem like I’m posturing.”

  “So, their first impression of the Talons will be Yusef? I think that’s the bigger gamble.”

  “He’ll send a charge of energy through the room. His draft has many notes to himself on when to flail his arms and ball his fists.”

  She chuckled.

  “Isn’t he speaking about two centuries of losing to the Swarm?”

  “A somber topic, but Yusef intends to inspire rather than terrify. Remember that day on the Scramjet when we gathered together for the first time, and he told the story of the Dameraat?”

  She’d never forget. They’d only just left Hokkaido behind, and the combined Hokki/Talon crew did not know each other. Yusef told the dramatic story of the great beast’s struggle to climb up a cliff on its last remaining talon, its life about to end. Yusef’s theatrics and his pledge to fight against all odds proved critical in shaping the crew for what lay ahead at Artemis Station. Today, he would speak second.

  “He won’t lose their attention,” Kara said. “I just hope his personality doesn’t overwhelm the message. Many in that room will be skeptical about the threat. They can vote down everything we’re trying to do.”

  “Yusef will be mindful. He knows what’s at stake.” Cando caught her eye roll. “Don’t worry. I’ll watch their body language. If he needs to lower the volume, I’ll flash him a signal. We worked it out.”

  “You two must have been quite a pair before the war.”

  “We were, when our paths crossed. We were young and reckless. Did I ever tell you the joke about two Turks in a bar?”

  “I don’t recall.”

  “It goes like this: Two Turks walk into a bar.” Kara waited out Cando’s silence. At last, he shrugged. “There’s no punch line because no one remembers what happened next.”

  “OK. Wow.”

  “It plays better on Yaniff. I haven’t met these Turks, but maybe they’ll appreciate it, too.”

  “You’ll have a chance to find out tonight.”

  A series of formal receptions followed the general assembly, hosted at several locations across the ship. Kara expected to be on her feet schmoozing until late, their last chance to open social and diplomatic doors before the hard business of the agenda began tomorrow.

  An hour later, she and Cando stood with many other dignitaries and their advisors in the anteroom adjacent to the Level Seven arena. The ship’s Events Manager reviewed today’s agenda and the seating arrangements behind the dais.

  Kara peaked through an open portal and saw the delegations entering from the opposite end. Guides in green/white tunics led each group to their assigned areas. Much like with the rooms, these seats were chosen to balance diplomatic needs and avoid creating any clusters of potential conflict. She heard that the six delegates from the nomad Chancellor fleet – the hardest of hard-liners – would be seated last but also closest to the exit, reducing their contact time with representatives of their former colonies.

  She understood the precaution but wondered if it only served to stoke further division. The fleet intended to contribute military experience in exchange for a little planetary real estate, enough for thirty thousand people to settle far from indigenous populations. Their formal request made no mention of Aeterna. They appeared willing to settle anywhere not named Earth. They had changed tactics since their failures with the lunatic Dayton Romilius and the plot to steal warships from Euphrates.

  The Hokki delegation took their seats in two rows midway back. Jen Won led them in, setting an example with understated business attire, though all wore a gardenia blossom to honor the Hokkis who fell to the Swarm.

  She was surprised to see Ham Cortez join them at the rear. Though listed as a “special advisor” to the delegation, he had no formal role in the larger agenda. Yesterday, after he reported on what he found when he tracked down Amayas Knight, Ham wavered on whether he’d attend the assembly.

  “I am more interested in deeds than words,” he told Kara. “We’ve never demanded more progress faster. I’m not sure everyone is up to the task, though I’d dearly love to hear you speak.”

  She heard a deep-rooted cynicism upon his return. It troubled her.

  “What happened out there, Ham? What really happened?”

  He had submitted a simple report that said Amayas agreed to establish a permanent base of operations in a location central to the Splinter Alliance worlds. The Inventor’s own efforts to set up a defense against the Swarm were proceeding, but their tests were inconclusive. The data should not be brought before Tranteum, for the plan might yet fail and should not be considered a substitute for a naval fleet. Beyond that, he said little.

  “It was a sobering experience,” Ham said. “If the extent of the Inventor’s work went public, it would undermine the conference.”

  “Anything you say, I’ll keep to myself.”

  “I’m sorry, Kara. Give me time. I need to investigate certain threads. If I learn something definitive, you’ll be the first to know.”

  After more than a year pursuing the Inventor’s secrets, Ham Cortez, former Special Services agent, appeared ready to close the book. It didn’t make sense. Cando thought the same but hesitated to push.