ZIMMERMAN: Growing hostile. Not so fast you little weasel. This is my political life we are talking about, here. Who do you want running this colony, anyway? Are you some kind of Nexus-loyal plant? What do we pay you for, man?
STEINBACH: Governor, with all due respect I don’t really have the time.
ZIMMERMAN: You’ll make the time for me, General! I am a Zimmerman, if I must state the obvious.
STEINBACH: Give my regards to your family, sir.
A tense silence ensues.
ZIMMERMAN: Speaking in a low voice. You don’t know who your screwing with. I know you work for that witch, but she’s not the only one with assassins in this town. Now, I’m going to lay out what’s going to happen, and you’re going to follow orders like a good little soldier. First, I’m going to go in myself and try to talk to the bastard-
STEINBACH: You’re bravery surprises me.
ZIMMERMAN: I’m going in with plenty of cameras. He won’t do anything. How would it look if the new Governor shot the old one coming in to welcome him? What kind of a civil war could he put together after that was splashed all over the evening news? Who would rally to the call of an exposed murderer? Second, if I can get him to come out, we will have a much better chance at him later, at a phony inauguration ceremony, for example.
STEINBACH: Thoughtfully. Your plan has merit, but I can’t help but think that Droad would be too smart to fall for it.
ZIMMERMAN: And if you hadn’t jumped right in with an unplanned assassination attempt and warned him off, we could be on good ground right now. You and your Manchurian cronies panicked, that’s all there is to it.
STEINBACH: Shrugging. So, what if he doesn’t bite?
ZIMMERMAN: Then I call him a criminal and order you to retake the spaceport. Now I know you have instructions from ‘Her Excellency’, but don’t worry about her. Whatever she’s paying you we’ll cover it, and she won’t dare bitch about it because the whole Senate’s howling for her blood right now. The Zimmermans are taking their rightful place as the leaders of this colony, Steinbach. It’s time you put yourself on the winning side.
STEINBACH: Both men stand up. Your logic is unassailable, Governor.
ZIMMERMAN: I thought you might see it that way.
Lucas Droad was reviewing Manstein’s defense plans with Jarmo when Governor Zimmerman came calling. Tapping timidly on the front glass of the terminal building with a three-man media crew in tow, Zimmerman was allowed in by several astonished security people.
“He has more balls than I figured,” said Manstein, watching him as he was escorted across the terminal by two suspicious giants. “He’s been putting on a little weight since the last fixed election, too.”
“Indeed,” agreed Governor Droad.
Zimmerman was patted down along with the media crew, and then they were all led into the security center. He joked with the giants and with the media people, insisting on a publicity-shot of he and Jarmo standing close together to allow size-comparison. Jarmo refused to smile for the cameras, but rather maintained a stony, unpleasant expression throughout the affair.
Lucas met them in the conference room. “This visit is an unexpected pleasure, Governor.”
“Mr. Droad, I’m afraid things have gotten out of control, and I apologize,” said Zimmerman, shaking Lucas’ hand warmly. Lucas rubbed his hand on his pants afterward.
“I’m glad you came here in such a timely fashion. It’s critical that I am instated as the Nexus-appointed Colonial Governor of Garm immediately. I am here to replace the last Governor, whom I understand is now deceased.”
Zimmerman looked pained. He glanced sidelong at the humming holo-cameras, and then his eyes slid back to Lucas. “Now Droad, you must understand how things are here. I’m the rightful Governor of this Colony, by senatorial appointment. Your claim hasn’t been validated as yet, but let me assure you that if you are who you say you are, you will of course become the head of state here, after your official inauguration.”
“The protocol you suggest would be adequate under normal circumstances. However, your appointment is not valid since only the Nexus can appoint a colonial governor, therefore it is not in your power to require such a protocol, nor do you have the authority to inaugurate me in any case. As an additional factor to my judgment, there has been an attempt on my life by assassins, at least one of whom was a member of the militia. Given the near-anarchy I’ve witnessed here, I am unwilling to allow such a gross delay.”
Zimmerman was clearly unhappy. He made an irritated gesture. “Look, you can’t just come out here, hop off a three-year sleeper ship from the cluster and expect us to all hail you as Governor without even checking it out. Listen, I’m offering you the benefit of the doubt to prove yourself. You’ve committed numerous criminal acts, but in deference to the Nexus we are willing to consider the possibility your claim is legitimate. What more can you ask for?”
“Immediate compliance with Nexus Cluster Law.”
“The Colonial Senate will never accept it.”
“Nevertheless, this is my position. Nexus Law supersedes local authority. I hereby order you to accept me as the rightful Colonial Governor of Garm.”
“That’s the best you can do?” asked Zimmerman, obviously surprised.
“I am inflexible in this regard.”
On the way back out of the terminal building the Governor was far less outgoing with the media people. His joking, smiling politician’s mantle had been discarded. Instead he sulked, answering their questions only with monosyllabic grunts. This made for bad video, but the media people only voiced their complaints in low mutterings.
When Zimmerman returned to the militia lines stretched across the tarmac, he was livid with fury. Gray-coated militiamen hustled away the protesting KXUT news team and Zimmerman confronted Ari Steinbach in his command lifter for a second time. Outside, Major Drick Lee carefully focused his handheld laser-snooper on the lifter’s side windows. He adjusted the gain until he had a good clear signal-feed into the speakers implanted in his ear canals.
Back in the command bunker beneath Mai Lee’s palace the transmission was received and the AI software began printing a hardcopy of the transcript even as the words were spoken.
ZIMMERMAN: Okay, you’re going in now, and I don’t want to hear any more excuses. I want you to wipe them out, I want you to kill them, you understand me?
STEINBACH: Of course, sir. The operation will begin at once.
ZIMMERMAN: Good. What will you do first?
STEINBACH: Sounding irritated. Please Governor, let me run this affair without the burden of micro-management. Let the experts handle it.
ZIMMERMAN: Snorting. The experts have been as shy as newborn air-swimmers so far! I want to know what your plans are!
STEINBACH: Very well. I have men moving to encircle the terminal. Even now they are out on the tarmac runways. No large aircraft will be able to land and give them support.
ZIMMERMAN: What about the Stormbringers you so stupidly allowed them to gather?
STEINBACH: They have landed on the roof. The plan is to send our own aloft and force them to scramble up to the challenge.
ZIMMERMAN: Why not just blast them? Why don’t we just forget all this pussyfooting around and blow up the whole terminal?
STEINBACH: Speaking quickly and urgently. That really isn’t an option, sir. There may be innocent hostages involved, which would make for bad video. Besides, why waste the taxpayers money rebuilding the spaceport?
ZIMMERMAN: Okay, okay, so you fool around and try to draw off the fighters. What about the assault?
STEINBACH: After a period of sniper-fire to suppress the enemy while we maneuver into position, we simply send in the tactical squad, using the rest of the men for backup.
ZIMMERMAN: All right, General. You get a few hours to pull this off, then I call up Fort Zimmerman and order them to ready the missile batteries. If you can’t take them out by then I’ll level the terminal building.