"Ahmi, or Madira, whoever, didn't say 'tell Dee who her grandfather was,' " Nancy said as she lowered her weapon. Apparently, she believed Alexander and Sehera—or at least wanted to give that impression.
"What?" Sehera looked up at her sharply.
"No, Allison just played it back for me in my head. She said 'show Dee who her grandfather was,' and her emphasis was on the word show." Nancy repeated the dead president.
"Abby says the same," Moore agreed.
"She never said anything or did anything without it meaning something else, or having design." Sehera rose to her feet. "She was trying to tell us something without giving it away to the AIC."
"Fan out. Look for a picture of Scotty P. Mueller," Moore ordered.
"I saw it earlier." Sehera walked over to the desk and picked up the ski mask. She held it in her hands briefly and then stuck it in her pocket. "Here it is."
She picked up the picture and examined it closer. It was in a very nice Mars cherry-tree-wood frame and covered with an antiglare pane of glass. The picture was of the newly elected Democratic president, Sienna Madira, shaking the hands of freshly congressionally approved Republican Supreme Court chief justice, Scotty P. Mueller. The chief justice had just sworn in the new president, and they were shaking hands. There was handwriting on the picture that read:
The best minds are not in government;
if they were, business would hire them away.
Thanks, Sienna Madira,
President of the
United States of America
They all examined it closely but didn't see any double meaning. Sehera rolled the frame over in her hands a few times. They looked at the back of it and noticed fingernail marks on one side of the backing. Sehera pulled the frame open, and there was a piece of silica about the size of a microscope slide inside it.
"What is that?" Thomas asked.
"Thomas, my boy, I'll just bet you that there is data on that thing. And I'll bet it is data about who is who in the Separatist organization." Alexander smiled.
"Ma'am, we hadn't heard from you in a couple of hours. We feared the worst!" U.S.R. Fleet Admiral Sterling Maximillian said. "The battle is not going well, ma'am. The Americans have decimated our fleet. We have but a couple of ships still fighting."
"Put me on a systemwide broadcast, Admiral."
"Yes, ma'am. You're on, now."
"People of the United Separatist Republic, you have all fought so bravely and made such sacrifice. I love you, each and every one, with all of my heart. But the time has come that I must ask you all to lay down your weapons and surrender. There is no longer any need for us to continue the bloodshed. Our Separatist movement has been heard in history and throughout all of humanity, from Washington, D.C. to the deserts of Mars, to the Oort Cloud of Sol, and to colonies light-years from where man first crawled out of the muck. We have made our point to all of humanity, to our brethren. It is time now for us to make our amends with them. I ask you all to stand down. Thank you, and God bless you all."
"You are clear, ma'am," Maximillian said.
"Stand down, Admiral. Ahmi out." The holoscreen blanked out, and the view of the blue-green gas giant filled the horizon again.
"How was that?" Sehera pulled her hair out of the hole in her mother's ski mask and slipped it the rest of the way off.
"Perfect." Alexander smiled at his wife. "Let's go home."
Epilogue
December 14, 2396 AD
Tau Ceti, Ares
Saturday, 7:15 PM, Earth Eastern Standard Time
Saturday, 2:15 PM, New Tharsis Standard Time
Dee and her father sat on a park bench across from a row of condominiums, feeding the New Tharsis pigeons. December in New Tharsis was warm, humid, and more like May in Mississippi. It had taken Nancy months to figure out where their last target had slipped off to. It turned out that he hadn't slipped far. They had been finding the targets and eliminating them one by one for about fifteen months, and this last one had proven to be the most slippery of them all.
"Thanks for bringing me along on this one, Dad," Dee said.
"Like I would have ever heard the end of it if I didn't let you come." He laughed. "I just hope he shows up before we need to QMT to the embassy. I cannot miss the treaty signing. Finally reuniting all the human colonies—nothing is more important than tonight's ceremony. It'd be a shame to have to let Nancy finish this without us."
"We won't miss it. I'm sure Nancy's intel is right. So, are you going to run again?"
Alexander Moore knew he'd never get used to the way the gears were always churning in his daughter's head. "Well, your mother and I have talked about it a great deal, and—"
I've got our target in ten seconds. Nancy's voice rang in their minds.
"Saved by the belle. . . . We'll finish this conversation tomorrow." Alexander stood up and eased a modified railgun pistol out of his waistband, holding it casually against the side of his leg.
Dee stood up as well and turned toward her father.
"There's our target." Dee nodded toward the condos across the street.
A car pulled up and parallel parked in front of the condo just to the right of the only tree on the street. Dee and Alexander watched as the man got out of his car. He checked his mailbox and started to unlock his front door. Dee tossed the bag of pigeon food in the trash bin by the park bench.
"Time to go to work, Dad," she said a bit too eagerly.
Bree, QMT to target AO.
Roger that.
They flashed from the bench to the living room of the condo. As Alexander handed her the railpistol, Dee could hear the keys in the door. Then a shard of red and purple light from Tau Ceti and the Jovian's rings glinted through. Walt Fink stepped in and tossed his keys on the table next to the doorway and then turned and locked the dead bolt behind him.
"Well, hello there, General." Dee smiled at him and set the muzzle of her railpistol against his forehead. "Remember Clay Jackson and Jay Stavros? I do." Dee didn't blink when she pulled the trigger. One single tear rolled down her cheek as she stepped up and put a few more rounds into his head.
". . . a miraculous recovery," Gail Fehrer, anchor for the Earth News Network, said. "President Alexander Moore had the lowest approval ratings of any president since the twenty-first century, but between the decisive military victory over the Separatists and the historic accords that followed, his approval ratings have reached all-time highs. With less than a year of his present term left, will the Democrats be able to mount any sort of challenge?
"Moore's acceptance speech at the convention tonight is being viewed almost as a coronation. We go now, live to the floor of the convention center."
President Alexander Moore stepped out onto the stage and slowly walked up to the podium, surrounded by holo-images of his many triumphant moments as president. Many of the images prominently featured the vice president at his side.