The more things change....
Nevertheless, as his own time to vote drew near, Losenko found himself torn. He did not wish to fall into the trap of the old ways of thinking, yet he had his reservations about Ashdown. What the man had done in convening the summit was laudable, but his dismissive attitude toward civilian militias concerned him. The old military structures were in tatters, or else controlled by Skynet. It was going to require flexible thinking—and the heroic efforts of ordinary people like Grushka and Josef—to take back the Earth.
He feared that the general might be too much of a career soldier to adapt to this new world of man against machine. Ashdown was a product of the Pentagon, the very people who had thought computers were to be trusted more than the men and women who ran them.
He whispered to Utyosov.
“What do you think, Bela?”
“I’m just a tired old man with a bad heart,” the retired captain answered. Losenko outranked him by virtue of still being in active service. “You will be fighting this war longer than I will. You must decide for yourself.”
General Tanaka called on Losenko. He could feel Fokin’s fierce gaze burning into the back of his skull, a proxy for Ivanov. Then he considered the hostile faces of the anti-Ashdown faction. It was possible that the American general was simply too divisive a choice.
Yet Losenko felt he owed the man a debt, due to the tragic loss of his son.
But there is too much at stake to allow my own troubled conscience to sway my judgment.
“Captain Losenko?” Tanaka prompted again. “How does Russia vote?”
Losenko made his decision.
“Nyet.”
Down on the dais, Ashdown did not look surprised by his answer.
Despite the Russian’s vote, however, the American was elected by a narrow majority. The Chinese delegation walked out without a word, taking with it many of its allies and satellites. Empty seats faced Ashdown as he stepped up to the podium once more.
“Let them go,” the newly appointed commander of the Resistance decreed. He watched his unhappy adversaries exit the auditorium. “They’ll be back when the Terminators come knocking.” He looked up at the gallery, which was much less crowded than it had been before. Still, not all the dissenters had abandoned the summit; Russia and a few others remained.
“Those of you who voted for me, I thank you for your support.” He looked directly at Losenko. “And I also thank those of you who opposed my nomination, but still see the value in this alliance. I give you my word that I will do my level best to live up to the profound responsibility you have entrusted me with. One way or another, Skynet is going down.”
There was a smattering of applause. Losenko clapped politely. So did Utyosov.
Sergeant Fokin kept his hands in his lap.
“Let’s call it a day,” Ashdown said, perhaps to give the losing faction time to get used to the idea. “We’ll begin strategy sessions tomorrow. Start pooling our intel and setting up secure communications and supply networks.” His voice grew even more sober. He looked the audience over sternly. “This was the easy part, people. Tomorrow we roll up our sleeves and get to work.” He saluted the assembly. “Dismissed.”
The remaining delegates began to file out of the auditorium. Accommodations had been arranged in the nearby community of Puerto Ayora. Losenko was about to invite Utyosov to join him for a drink, when Corporal Ortega tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, skipper. The general would like to have a word with you.”
Now what? Losenko wondered. His gut twisted in anticipation. Had an ugly confrontation over the bombing of Alaska merely been postponed before? Or was Ashdown simply unhappy that Losenko had voted against him. Perhaps he preferred that Utyosov take charge of the Russian end of the Resistance.
“Of course,” he assented. For better or for worse, Ashdown was his commanding officer now. He made his excuses to Utyosov. Sergeant Fokin wanted to accompany him, but Losenko insisted that he watch over the older captain instead. Then he let Ortega escort him from the gallery.
He found Ashdown back in the library, which had already been converted into an impromptu command center. Maps and aerial surveillance photos had been pinned up over the nature photographs. A bull’s-eye had been drawn over a map of southern California. Ashdown was huddled over a stack of reports and dispatches when Losenko came in. He dismissed his aides and Ortega.
“Give us the room.”
The other officers departed, leaving the two men alone. Losenko faced Ashdown, prepared to accept the consequences of his actions, no matter what they might be.
“You asked to see me, General?”
“Yes, Captain.” He gestured at a chair across from him. “Please sit down.”
Losenko had a flash of deja vu, recalling his own tense encounter with Ivanov in the stateroom aboard the Gorshkov. It felt strange to have the roles reversed. It had been some time since he had reported to a superior officer.
He took the seat.
“What is this about, sir?”
Ashdown looked up from his reports. His face was grim.
“I won’t beat about the bush, Captain. I want you on my staff, as my second-in-command.”
Losenko’s jaw dropped. Of all the outcomes he had expected from the meeting, this one had never crossed his mind.
“I don’t understand, sir,” he said when he could speak again. “Why me?”
“Plenty of reasons.” Ashdown ticked them off on his fingers. “One, politics. You saw what it was like in that meeting. There are a lot of people who don’t like the fact that I won that vote. Picking somebody from the other side as my right-hand man might go a long way toward mending that rift.
“Two, you fired on your own country’s ship. Like I said before, that shows that you can make the tough calls, and that you won’t let old loyalties get in the way of defeating Skynet.
“Three, I like that you stood up to me before. Not just in the voting, but when we debated the value of civilian militias. I don’t need yes-men, Losenko. I need someone who can give me an opposing viewpoint, and let me know when I have my head up my ass.” He shook his head ruefully. “If I had listened to people like you before, maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
Ashdown’s arguments made sense, but Losenko still had trouble accepting that the man was serious. There was too much tragic history between them. “But... your Son....”
The general winced. “I admit it, I’m not looking forward to having you in my face every day. The last thing I want is a walking, talking reminder of what happened to my boy.”
He pulled out a battered leather wallet and flipped it open to expose a small photo of a young man in a U.S. Air Force uniform. Losenko saw the family resemblance. Remorse stabbed at his heart. Is this the general’s revenge? Losenko thought. Giving me a face to go with my guilt?
If so, it was cruelly effective.
Ashdown snapped the wallet closed.
“I might never forget what you did, Losenko, but you had the guts to tell me about it to my face. That’s the kind of nerve we’re going to need to win this war.”
Losenko didn’t know whether to be flattered or appalled. His brain struggled to catch up.
“But I have a ship....”
“You’ve got a first officer, right? Someone you can trust to take your place?”
Losenko thought of Ivanov. Hadn’t Utyosov said earlier that Alexei deserved a command of his own? He doubted that this was exactly how anyone envisioned that happening, least of all Ivanov!
“That is the case,” he conceded. “But....”