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“Have you ever kicked anyone’s ass?” Hirsch asked. “Ever? You were always kind of a girly-girl.”

Lowen slugged Hirsch in the arm. “I’ve been saving my kick-assery up for a special occasion,” she said. “This could be it. You should feel honored.”

“Oh, I do feel honored,” Hirsch said.

“If you’re so honored, you can get the next round,” Lowen said.

“I’m not sure I’m that honored,” Hirsch said.

Lowen looked shocked. “I threaten a Colonial Defense Forces soldier for you, and you won’t even get me a beer? That’s it, you no longer have official favorite cousin status. Rachel is back on top.”

“I thought she owed you money,” Hirsch said.

“Yes, but you owe me a beer,” Lowen said.

“Family,” Hirsch said, to Wilson and Schmidt, and then got up. “Anything for you two?”

“I’ll get Harry’s,” Schmidt said, getting up. “Come on, David. Walk you to the bar.” The two of them made their way through the crowd toward the beer taps.

“He seems like a good guy,” Wilson said, to Lowen.

“He is,” Lowen said. “And I’m serious, Harry. Don’t let anything happen to him.”

Wilson held up his hand, as if pledging. “I swear I will not let anything happen to your cousin. Or at the very least, if anything happens to him, it will happen to me, too,” he said.

“That last part doesn’t inspire me with confidence,” Lowen said.

“It will be fine, I promise,” Wilson said. “The last time I did this, people were shooting at me on my way down. I missed having a leg blown off by millimeters. This will be a cakewalk compared to that.”

“I still don’t like it,” Lowen said.

“I sympathize entirely,” Wilson said. “This wasn’t exactly my idea, you know. But, look. David and I will have to get together tomorrow before the jump anyway in order to go over dive protocols and to walk him through what we’ll be doing. In your ample spare time, why don’t you tag along with him? I’ll give the impression I know what I’m talking about, I swear.”

Lowen pulled out her PDA and scrolled through her schedule. “Can you do it at eleven?” she asked. “I have a fifteen-minute hole in my schedule then. I was going to use it to pee, but I can do this instead.”

“I’m not responsible for your bladder,” Wilson said.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lowen said. She put her PDA away. “At least I have time to pee. There are some people I know who have so many meetings now that they’re positively at risk for peritonitis.”

“Busy schedules,” Wilson said.

“Yes, well,” Lowen said. “This is what happens when one party drops a bomb onto everyone’s schedule and turns what was going to be an orderly summit into a goddamned mess, Harry.”

“Sorry,” Wilson said again.

“This goes back to that arrogance thing,” Lowen said. “You remember. You and I talked about this before. The Colonial Union’s biggest problem is its arrogance. This is a perfect example. Rather than sit down with the nations of the Earth to discuss the ramifications of keeping us bottled up for centuries, it’s attempting a sleight-of-hand maneuver, distracting us with this station lease.”

“I remember also saying to you that if you wanted someone to defend the Colonial Union’s practices, you came to the wrong shop,” Wilson said. “Although I’ll note, strictly as a matter of observation, that the Colonial Union’s plan seems to be working perfectly.”

“It’s working now,” Lowen said. “I’m willing to concede it’s a reasonable short-term solution. But as a long-term solution it has problems.”

“Such as,” Wilson said.

“Such as what is the Colonial Union going to do when the United States, China and Europe all say that as a matter of restitution, the Colonial Union should give us Earth Station?” Lowen said. “Forget all this leasing crap. The cost of one space station is a substantial discount on the profits accrued from two centuries of essentially free labor and security for the Colonial Union. You’d be getting off cheap.”

“I’m not sure the Colonial Union will agree with that theory,” Wilson said.

“We don’t need you to agree,” Lowen said. “All we really have to do is wait. The Colonial Union is unsustainable without new colonists and soldiers. I’m sure your economists and military planners have figured this one out already. You need us more than we need you.”

“I would imagine the natural response to this would be that you wouldn’t like what happens to Earth if the Colonial Union fails,” Wilson said.

“If it was just the Earth, you’d be right,” Lowen said. “But there’s option B.”

“You mean joining the Conclave,” Wilson said.

“Yep,” Lowen said.

“The Earth would have to get itself a lot more organized than it is at the moment,” Wilson said. “The Conclave doesn’t like having to deal with fractions of a planet.”

“I think we could be sufficiently motivated,” Lowen said. “If the alternatives were either a forced alliance with former oppressors, or being collateral damage when that former oppressor falls.”

“But then humanity is divided,” Wilson said. “That’s not going to be good.”

“For whom?” Lowen countered. “For humanity? Or for the Colonial Union? They’re not the same thing, you know. If there is a human division, in the end, who will be to blame for it? Not us, Harry. Not Earth.”

“You don’t have to sell me, Dani,” Wilson said. “So, how is this line of argument going with the U.S. delegation?” Wilson asked.

Lowen frowned.

“Ah,” Wilson said.

“You would think nepotism would help me out here,” Lowen said. “Being the daughter of the U.S. secretary of state should have a perk or two, especially when I’m right. But there’s the minor problem that Dad is under orders to tell us here to try to hammer out a deal before the end of the summit. He says my points will make a fine ‘backup plan’ if we don’t end up getting the lease outright.”

“Does he mean it?” Wilson asked.

Lowen frowned again.

“Ah,” Wilson said once more.

“Oh, good, our drinks are here,” Lowen said, motioning to Hirsch and Schmidt, who were navigating back, beers in hand. “Just in time to drown my sorrows.”

“Did we miss anything?” Hirsch asked, handing his cousin a beer.

“I was just talking about how hard it is to be right all the time,” Lowen said.

“You were talking to the right guy about that,” Schmidt said, sitting down. “Harry has the same problem. Just ask him.”

“Well, then,” Lowen said, and raised her glass. “I propose a toast. Here’s to being right all the time. May God and history forgive us.”

They all clinked glasses to that.

Part Two

V

“Captain Coloma,” Ensign Lemuel said, “another ship skipped in.”

Coloma muttered her thanks to Lemuel and checked her PDA. She had made it a standing order to her bridge crew to alert her when ships arrived or departed Earth Station, without giving them further explanation. The crew didn’t question the order; it was trivially easy to track the other ships. The order had been in effect for most of a day now. It was late morning on the second day of the summit.

Coloma’s display registered the new ship, a small freighter. It was one of eleven ships floating outside of Earth Station, the other ten arrayed in parking zones. There were four Colonial Union diplomatic ships; including the Clarke, there was the Aberforth, the Zhou and the Schulz, each carrying its complement of diplomats negotiating with the delegations from Earth, who came to the station by way of the beanstalk. Three ships, the Robin Meisner, the Leaping Dolphin and the Rus Argo, were cargo freighters from the Colonial Union, which had some limited trade with the Earth. The two remaining ships were Budek cargo haulers; the Budek were negotiating to join the Conclave but in the meantime were fans of citrus fruits.