She turned to him, a half-smile frozen on her face. “You want the cool news or the ‘Holy Christ’ news first?”
He cocked an eyebrow, perplexed. “Well, if we’re not being shot at, give me the cool stuff and lead me up to the other. You do it the other way and it’ll suck all the coolness out by comparison.”
Kris grinned in full. “I’m tapped into the web, telecom network, and cable news via satellite uplink, and we’re pretty much the talk of the planet. The 24-hour news stations and sites are All-Sword-of-Liberty, all-the-time. Our website and e-mail queues are busting at the seams with traffic, and there are practically an infinite number of cell and radio-telephone calls in the hopper.”
“Are we answering any of them?”
“Nope. Just like you said, the auto-hailer and voicemail are shut down and we’re running silent, but they’re waiting anyways.”
“Any of those broadcasts or webcasts covering the hijacking?”
She shook her head. “Not a one. As far as the hoi polloi know, Colonel Henson, his military crew, and their two civilian riders are one big, happy space-family.”
“There’s no way they can’t know by now. Even if Henson’s STOSS is still too far away to make a direct call home, they have to have flagged our behavior as soon as we broke comms and left the shuttle behind. So they’re keeping things quiet. Okay. What about Dave Edwards and the others?”
Kris nodded. “I’ve got a burst data receipt from both STOSS’s. Everything’s quiet on their end and they’re standing by for rendezvous. Encryption is good and Edwards and Rainier both used the ‘Valkyrie’ code word. They’re not under duress.”
Nathan nodded back and grinned as well. “Well, everything seems to be coming together better than I hoped. That is cool. Now what’s the big news?”
Her smile grew more, flashing teeth. “The President’s on hold for you.”
Nathan’s grin dropped and he looked appalled. “Damn it, Kris. Voice or visual?”
“Visual. I’m putting it on the main screen, Star Trek style. Hope you’re zipped up, lover-boy.”
He shook his head in dismay and sat up straighter in his seat, facing the Bridge’s primary viewscreen. The view of Earth and her myriad orbits vanished, replaced by a close-in view of Annabel Tomlinson, looking perturbed. Behind her could be seen a conference room and several silent figures, generals, admirals, and civilians alike. Nathan set his jaw firmly and nodded. “Madame President, it’s an honor.”
There was the briefest, too-long pause as his signal crossed the minute gulf between them and her response flew back at the speed of light. Tomlinson’s expression remained hard, her voice icy. “How nice. Well, I would be honored if you would explain just what the hell you think you’re doing, Mr. Kelley.”
“I would’ve thought that would be completely obvious by now. We are proceeding on our mission as originally proposed and approved, before Sykes, and you, I suppose, changed things.”
“So you’re just going to take the ship that the US government built, that the taxpayers unknowingly paid for, and go haring about the galaxy to satisfy your own personal whims? You have a lot of gall.”
Nathan shook his head. “No, Ma’am. We have an essential mission for which we have trained and qualified, as well as a sense of dedication to our country and our leaders which won’t permit us to let this asset go with a lesser crew. I’m not trying to insult Colonel Henson or his team, but they are rank amateurs compared to the original Windward complement. If we wait for them to become our equals, our timeline for intercepting the Deltans at a relatively safe distance will fall by the wayside. We can’t permit that, and you should just accept it. To tell the truth, you should embrace it.”
The pause was a bit longer this time, despite the fact that every second brought them closer to Earth. Finally she spoke, her eyes seeming to lock with his even through the intermediaries of the screens and cameras. “I appreciate your position, Mr. Kelley, and I respect it in a way, but the fact remains that you are all civilians. You are not bound to the wishes of my administration, the will of the nation, or the strictures of the US Constitution. It would be criminal for me to allow you to go about your mission and enter negotiations with an alien race for this nation or for this planet. You simply haven’t the authority.”
“Well, Ma’am, then we find ourselves in a quandary, because while I might not have the authority, I’m the only one with the means. And I’m not going to give that up.”
Another pause, longer than the tiny light-speed lag. She appeared to be thinking, calculating. “Perhaps I should proceed as has been recommended, and simply shoot you down.”
Nathan’s eyes narrowed and a corner of his mouth turned up. “I don’t think ‘simply’ would be how I’d describe it. I’m not so arrogant as to believe that you couldn’t shoot this ship down—I have no idea what sort of directed energy or missile technology the DOD might have hidden away, perhaps even some tech used in the Sword’s own design. I think it would be a nasty fight, though, and not one you are guaranteed to win. In addition, I would fear for the collateral damage—both the physical kind from a statistically probable miss and the political kind when everyone sees the US shooting down her own destroyer. Madame President, I would think very carefully before listening to anyone advising you to do that.”
She nodded, more quickly this time. “I had come to much the same decision, though you might be surprised to note that I couldn’t really care less about the political firestorm such an action would unleash. Believe that or not. No, we aren’t going to shoot you down and we aren’t going to have you forcibly boarded. Instead, we are going to employ a much more subtle weapon against you.
“You are a man of honor and duty, willing to even break the law, to endanger your future as a free man if you see that as the course honor dictates. You sacrificed much in the wake of the USS Rivero’s sinking, but the biggest casualty was your tie to the traditions of military service. Both you and the Navy lost something when you resigned. I’m happy that you have found another cause to believe in, another worthy task in which to invest yourself, but your desires and your goodwill are not enough. If this mission is to be undertaken by you, the interests of the United States must be served first and foremost. Secretary Sykes, if you please.”
Nathan looked at Kris, confusion evident on both their faces. He looked back to the main screen to see the President move aside and Carl Sykes take center-stage. Sykes glared at him. “Nathan Kelley, please stand and raise your right hand.”
Nathan did so, numbly, hardly even thinking.
Sykes cleared his throat and stood at attention, his Air Force training coming to the fore. He did not bother with a note card. This was a passage each of the men knew by heart. “Repeat after me. I, state your name—”
“I, Nathaniel Robert Kelley—”
“—do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God.”
Nathan repeated the oath of office, oblivious to the open-mouthed stare Kris gave him from off-camera.
Sykes relaxed and grinned with more than a hint of malice. “Checkmate. I know you, Commander Kelley. I know how you think, and no matter how you may have been intending to do business, you’ll do it the Navy way now. You’re my boy, and don’t you forget it. Now, Ms. Muñoz?”