“In the long run, certainly; I do share with the governments of Earth the belief that frontiers are necessary for growth. But other goals are much more immediate, among them open gateways for all scientific and technological discoveries, to remove the friction of uneven technological advancement.”
Olson did not know much if anything about the Olympians, and was almost certainly referring to Mars’s complaints against limited access to Earth technology, but for me, the statement carried extra weight.
“President Erzul, your comment on Candidate Olson’s answer?”
Ti Sandra placed her hands on the podium, pausing. The silence of several seconds was significant. Politics is showmanship; Ti Sandra would not appear to give predigested answers, or take the question and response quickly and lightly.
“No nation or political body operates out of altruism in the long run, and there is no reason to expect Earth to behave as mother to child. We have our own planetary pride, our own qualities, our own goods and inventions to offer, and these will in time be very significant. We must grow as friendly competitors, and we must earn our place in the Triple, without gifts, without favors. Others may need new frontiers, but Mars is still a frontier in itself. Mars is young but strong. We can grow, and will grow, to our own maturity in our own time.”
“But should not the Triple treat us as an equal partner, for the sake of historical ties?” Marshall asked.
Ti Sandra acknowledged that this would be a good thing, but added, “We intend never to impede the growth of Earth or any other sovereign power within the Triple. All we ask, in the long run, is that the Triple not stand in our way. We welcome economic ties, we welcome all forms of open trade, but we must not rely on inappropriate expectations or emotions.”
She had thirty seconds more for her answer, and took the time to elaborate. “Mars is a rich desert, scattered with settlements filled with a tough and loving people. We have grown as independent families, cooperating to keep each other alive, trading and sharing to prosper. I believe this is the natural order of things: good will among tough-minded but loving equals, never handicapping competitors, sharing the common resources through a strong and fair central authority. Good government keeps balances and corrects those flaws that will not correct themselves. The success of a Martian government lies in not stifling our greatest strengths to fit into some grand intellectual scheme with no precedent in history as actually lived.”
Chancellor Frankel leaned over to speak to me. “Brilliantly stated and reprised,” he said, nodding vigorously. “I hope she doesn’t really believe all that.”
Marshall ’s image turned to face Olson. “The interim government of President Erzul has already shown itself to be an effect effect an iv eck — ”
The image abruptly froze, then winked out. LitVid displays around the auditorium spun through confined gyrations and went dark. A low hum filled the room, empty digits on the auditorium’s sounder, and then that, too, fell silent. Beside me, Dandy jumped to his feet, took my shoulder, and practically lifted me out of my seat. Two guards and an arbeiter leaped on stage to surround Ti Sandra, and another guard stationed himself by Olson. The auditorium’s lights went out.
“Get down,” Dandy whispered harshly. I fell to my knees beside him. The auditorium filled with concerned voices and a few shouts and screams. I could feel my body becoming frightened before my mind had time to react.
Dandy pushed my butt and urged me across the floor, still on hands and knees. He covered me like a rude lover until we were in the protection of a stairwell. Ti Sandra huffed beside me. “You there, Cassie?” she asked.
“I’m here,” I said.
“Quiet!” Dandy ordered.
A torch flicked on, half-hidden by a guard’s hand as he read a small map on a metal plate secured to a handrail at the base of the stairs. Ti Sandra’s chief guard, Patsy Di Vorno, a sharp-faced young woman with incredible arms and shoulders, slapped a thick white slab like modeling clay on my arm. I gave a little shriek as it quickly spread and covered my torso, neck, and head, bunching my hair and tugging it painfully. It left me holes to see and breath through. Di Vorno wrapped a slab around each of Ti Sandra’s arms. We were now covered with reactive nano armor. The armor was intelligent and mobile; it could sense approaching projectiles and curl us into a tight ball with muscle-snapping speed. Any high-speed projectile hitting the armor would be blown to a stop. That made us dangerous to everybody around us.
With a few grunted words, the President and I were dragged, walked, and shoved up the stairs like cargo. In a small storage room, cool and dark, the guards pushed us low against a wall adjacent to the entrance. They turned their torches high and flicked them down the hall outside. Coded com links penetrated the walls like secret half-heard whispers among frightened children.
Nobody followed. Four guards and two arbeiters set up a secure station in that room, slapping quick-spread sensors onto the walls and drawing their guns. The arbeiters were much more heavily armed than I had guessed, sporting both projectile rapid-fires, short-range electron beams, and selective bio knockers that could put an army of live assailants — human or animal — into shock.
I hugged Ti Sandra and she hugged me, the armor squeaking like rubber between us. Only then did we realize that Olson was in the room with us. Ti Sandra gave him a shocked look, and we hugged him as well.
“What in the hell is this?” Olson asked, voice shaky. His dignity seemed ruffled and he pushed us back.
“Power failure,” Ti Sandra ventured. The closest guard, whom I knew only as Jack, shook his head in the torch glare, a shadow above him echoing larger denial.
“No, ma’am,” Patsy Di Vorno said, coming back into the room. “Power doesn’t go down in buildings like this. The dedicated thinker blanked. All backup control dunked with it. That doesn’t happen. We have a planned failure of support.”
“Oh,” Olson said, leaving his jaw open.
Patsy’s mind — triggering a speed enhancement — went into high gear and she started clipping. “Now get your shuttle to unknown. Risk if unfriendly air team tracking — ”
“Or sabotage,” Dandy Breaker said. “We should separate prez and veep now. Candidate can serve as decoy.”
Olson’s jaw dropped farther.
“Sorry, sir,” Dandy went on, face stony and eyes narrowed in the glare. I could hardly see except in blocks of harsh white and starry black.
“You have an obligation,” Olson said, but his own guard interrupted.
“Sir, we mean to get you out of here as well. Breaker means that each team will vector separately. Three arrows out of here, each acting as diversion for the other.” He raised his hand, and again we were grabbed and pushed into the hall. From the auditorium came more screams and concerned voices.
“Don’t worry, ma’am,” Breaker told me. “No weapons fire and no assault signals.”
“Watch for peeling walls,” another guard said. Nano poisons, rapid-assembly weapons and machines, anything might be possible.
“Who?” Ti Sandra asked, face flushed, large body suddenly very vulnerable and weak, a big slow target. “We don’t care right now, Madam President,” another guard said.
I told Dandy, “If you grab my ass again, you better mean it.” He shot me a look of surprise, grinned, and said, “Sorry, Ma’am.”
We took back tunnels to the shuttle port, walking briskly with guards and arbeiters front and back. “Christ, I don’t want this!” Olson said before we split, his lone guard hustling him to the train tubes.
“Madam Veep, you have another shuttle,” Di Vorno said. “Prez goes incom. Luck, Dandy.”
Dandy, Jack, and an arbeiter guided me to the proper gate for the second shuttle. I knew the team always traveled with two shuttles, but I had not seen the second before. It did not look luxurious; spare, cut down, armored and fast.