Not hollow wares, then. Bad news out of Planys, but this man had deliberately landed himself where Council was, where the media was…claiming hehad Novgorod. And, effectively, he hopedto have Reseune…at least in the political sense.
“Then you’re here to talk to Council,” she said. Shewouldn’t fall into that pit, negotiating in front of cameras, worse, being seen to usurp what Council needed to be involved in. “Urgently so, I’ll imagine. Florian. Catlin. Advise Admin; buses up the hill; tell the Councillors. Let’s go into the terminal, General, if you please; it’s a more comfortable premises.”
“My pleasure,” Awei said, and Ari aimed him and his aide and her own two right through the ranks of the media.
There were immediate questions, and cameras. One question was: “How many troops do you have. General?” Which not even a fool would answer truthfully. And, “Are you officially challenging Khalid for the seat?”
Awei stopped right there and turned a calm stare on the cameras–no fool at all, Ari thought. Nobodywho’d be maneuvered by questions like that was fit to hold office. This man was laying his life on the line to take control, and he was smart. Maybe he was a man who wouldn’t be at all safe as an ally–if the constitution didn’t make the Bureaus equal, and impose iron‑clad quorum requirements among the Nine.
And stillwatch Defense, she thought, both glad and suspicious of a new presence in the game. And she thought, too, in a sub‑basement of her mind, Let him take on Khalid. Whether he lives or dies trying, we benefit.
Awei said, in that deep, even voice, addressing the media:
“We demand that the Admiral produce Councillor Jacques, alive. We demand that Admiral Khalid answer specific questions from his own service, regarding the murder of Councillor Spurlin. One dead, one disappeared Councillor for Defense–that needs answers. We’re not hearing them, and we remind everyone Admiral Khalid has not yet been seated in Council.”
Thatwas about as blunt as it got. Awei was trying a maneuver, and making his own bid for power–doing it on Reseune soil, no less. It was certainly a nervy try; it went clear to the heart of Defense, for certain. She approved of everything she heard, and her blood moved just a little faster.
“Reseune agrees with that demand,” she said sharply, and cameras refocused on her on the instant. “As of this hour, Admiral Khalid’s forces have intruded into PlanysLabs, onto Reseune territory. Records in Planys, as of this morning, are no longer secure, or safe. Within recent months, two senior Reseune personnel are dead under questionable circumstances, one of them at Planys, one at Novgorod. Furthermore, we’ve reinvestigated the charges against Jordan Warrick. We know he was falsely blamed for the death of my predecessor, and we question whether certain records pertinent to that case will exist past this evening, in the hands of Admiral Khalid’s forces.” Therewas a capper, without claiming anything specific. Let the media digest thatone, if Awei thought he could use Reseune Airport for his own stage and not pay rent, even as a friendly. “At the moment Defense has no Councillor and no Proxy Councillor seated among the Nine; and Reseune is extremely interested in what you have to say, General.”
Kingmaker he might intend to be, silver‑haired veteran clearly on old‑fashioned rejuv. He might be backed by a sizeable and formidable division of the service–and maybe he meant to be king, himself, disregarding the constitution as freely as Khalid.
On the other hand, Awei was here. Vice Admiral Tanya Bigelow, the candidate for Defense Proxy that Reseune had backed, hadn’t taken the initiative to get up here–if Bigelow was still alive or able to move. That was a fact worth noticing. For proof of any considerable opposition to Khalid’s takeover, they had nothing but one plane and a Marine general who had yet to demonstrate what, exactly, he commanded. And if Yanni showed up in the interim, backing Bigelow or some other candidate in Defense, therewas a potential embarrassment.
But she couldn’t wait to consult anybody, and there was suddenly a momentum going, where the media was concerned. Khalid had troops inside Planys, which the media couldn’t get visuals on; and Reseune had had a missile launched at them out of Svetlansk–which they had been able to get on camera for the whole immediate universe to see. Guess which was more impressed on public awareness. Now this man came screaming in out of the blue with a challenge and an offer; and she could prime the media and shove things into motion–if nothing else, throw a momentary obstacle into Khalid’s hitherto cascading rush to power.
Kingmaker in Defense. Awei might be–or not. History was full of actions like Awei’s, and some of them died, and some of them fell, soon after.
The smart ones didn’t try to use anybody smarter than they were. Let him figure in the next few hours that that was what he had just met. She could support him…if Klaus Awei was smart enough to figure who’d just settled the mantle of legitimacy about hisshoulders in front of the media, and whose support could make his survival in his bid just a little more likely than any other claimant. She read people pretty damned well–and Klaus Awei, for all his larger‑than‑life presence, already knew he was taking a chance. He’d known exactly where media exposure and significant images could be had, and if he was telling the truth, he had control of the Novgorod vid apparatus, which meant word would get out much wider than it had been.
He hadn’t established himself in Novgorod and tempted Councilinto coming back to the capital and appealing to him for rescue, which argued good manners–or suggested his base might be small and fragile down there, if it existed at all. Or it could argue he wasn’t going to go for political process at alclass="underline" he was a military man, commanding an organization that moved fast: forces already in Svetlansk, he’d said, while he was here, taking the publicly political option.
He had a real chance, if Council backed him‑‑and if media simultaneously got the word out.
“What’s this about Jordan Warrick?” a reporter yelled then, and Ari turned, slowly, solemnly, with the cameras all going, and all other questions silent. “What about Jordan Warrick?” the reporter repeated, exactly the side issue she’d wanted.
“A covert operation wanted my predecessor dead,” she said. “Now the same people would like to see medead…along with a lot of other people that stand in their way. The general has come here, I gather, driven by conscience–and if it’s not proper for Reseune to say how Defense should manage its internal business, I can at least say I’m in favor of protecting the independence of the Bureaus, with respect for other Bureaus’ territory andproperty, and the right of allUnion citizens, to elect a candidate in their Bureau and see that candidate liveto take office.”
That created three and four more questions, about on the level of: Are you talking about Spurlin, young sera? Then, more important, a question she wanted: Have you had any word from the Councillor for Science?
“I hopefor it,” she shot back and, seeing the good general was not accustomed to the shouted‑questions kind of news conference, which was absolutely her element, she made a gesture of invitation toward the terminal. “The Councillors are on their way down, or they’ll be in touch fairly soon. Wait and we’ll give you a news conference.” And to Awei alone, “General, there’s a private conference room, and I imagine you and your companion would appreciate a cup of coffee, at the least.”
“Coffee,” Awei said. It had become a steady march toward the terminal doors. Florian and Catlin’s presence meant questioners didn’t get that close, or press up against them: the reporters that had covered Reseune for years had long since understood that about ReseuneSec and azi bodyguards. They knew the distance, knew it to an exactitude and kept it, shoving each other rather than infringing on that imaginary line that triggered armed reaction from security.