Tranquility Besieged

Part Nine

Grey's world is changed forever

This is a wartime romance rather than erotic novel. If a few of the terms appear antiquated, please remember this is hardcore science fiction written 40 years ago. After this, there is one chapter to go. All characters are over 18 years old.

Recap: Fatally injured fighting the sentinel class seekers only to be revived by an alien healing device, Grey seeks to complete the mission. And come to terms with his changed circumstances.

* * * * * *

Chapter Eleven

STRANGE NEW WORLD

Sunday, November 10, 2069

Grey woke from a sleep so deep he couldn't remember it. He was in the medical center again, which ceased to be a surprise, but he couldn't recall how he got there. Other than being fatigued and sore almost everywhere, he didn't feel injured. He put a hand on his lower right side and imagined there was something strange about the sensation. The spot was tender, but he vaguely recalled it should be worse than that.

He was in a nicer hospital room than usual, one of the private suites on the third floor with a balcony overlooking the amphitheater. The window had a half-drawn curtain and there was an oil painting of gothic angels hanging on the wall. Much fancier than he was accustomed to.

"Good morning, Governor," a drowsy female voice said.

Grey discovered Tamera Kantanee in a chair in the corner, her feet up on another chair, her shoulders covered by a blanket. Had she been sleeping there? he wondered.

"Good morning, Lieutenant," he answered, his voice barely a whisper.

As she dropped the blanket to stand up and stretch, Grey noticed she had abandoned her military attire for a civilian jump suit purchased from Lunar Sportswear.

"You're going to call me Tammy from now on," she said, sitting casually at the edge of the bed. "I'm going to call you Grey. After all, in a way, we're almost family."

Grey had to work through the clouds in his mind to grasp her meaning. Her hopeful expression confirmed his guess.

"How much have you learned?" he asked.

"All of it. How you felt about her. How she felt about you. You sought to protect her memory, and for that you will always be my friend, but we must have no more secrets. All right?"

Tamera leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Grey could tell it wasn't a romantic kiss, but it wasn't casual, either.

"You've been sleeping for eight days. We were getting worried," Tamera said.

"Eight days?" he said, struggling to sit up.

"Don't worry," she said, holding him down without the slightest effort. "Kes says it's natural with such serious injuries."

"Kes? Here?"

"Oh, yes. She's even stranger than you," Tamera laughed. "But everyone loves her."

"Everyone? Who is everyone?" Grey asked.

"Just because you woke up on my watch doesn't make you mine," Tamera said, growing guarded in her comments. "Let me get Kris or she'll skin my bottom."

Tamera jumped up and disappeared through the door. Grey activated the bedside monitor and summoned the Security Computer.

"Reporting," Security said, the black signature patterns calm.

"What's going on?" Grey asked.

"Sorry, your request for information is denied," Security said.

"What are you talking about? I'm giving you a directive."

"Captain Fairfield is Chief Security Officer. She said if I get you excited, she'll pour molten rock on my intellect blocks. She'll do it, too."

"Wouldn't want to get you in trouble, would I?" Grey said.

"You didn't retreat when I told you to," Security responded, though whether it was criticism or not he couldn't tell.

"Your instruction was premature. The fourth seeker wasn't in the kill zone," Grey remembered, details slowly coming back to him.

"I was trying to save your life," Security said.

"Hell of a time to change tactics," Grey sighed.

The Security Computer laughed, in its own weird way.

"I've got much to do, Governor. Check in with you later," Security said, dropping offline. It took Grey a moment to realize the Security Computer had called him governor with genuine respect.

"Grey!" Kris said, bursting into the room and nearly jumping on the bed. "How do you feel?"

"Adequate," he said.

She crawled up to lay next to him, one hand supporting her head and the other lightly posed on his chest. She was also casually dressed, wearing a yellow exercise suit with her sidearm in a shoulder holster. She pulled the holster off and dropped it on the floor before kissing him.

"You always say adequate," she said. "How do you really feel? Any pain? Do you feel conscious or only sort of conscious? How's your breathing?"

"I feel like an overhead condenser fell on me. Otherwise, adequate," he said, trying to smile. She kissed him again, longer and with more passion. The intensity concerned him, for it indicated how worried she had been.

"That fight you put up was the bravest thing I've ever seen," she said, her eyes watery. "And if you ever try something that stupid again, I'll shoot you myself."

Grey glanced down the length of his body, moved each foot to make sure he still had his legs, and checked to see if he still had hands on the ends of his arms. All appeared to be in order.

"I've been in hazardous situations before, and suffered far more serious injuries," he said.

"Grey, you took one right through the pump. If Kes hadn't agreed to bring that red ray thing, you'd be dead now," Kris said.

He raised the blanket and looked at his chest. It was discolored and more intensely sore than the rest of his body, and he did recall taking a hit somewhat lower down that was also badly bruised. Red Room? he wondered. Still, the last few seconds of the battle were a blur.

"Did we stop the seekers?" he asked.

"Yeah, got all four," she smiled, putting her head on his shoulder.

"The invaders?"

"Our squads control everything below the communications level, and they won't have that much longer."

"Our what?" he wondered, attempting to move again.

"Kes says you need rest," she said, backing off. "It's a little complicated, but some of our guests have changed sides. Okay, it's actually really complicated, because there's a lot going on. Since the seekers were knocked down, quite a few stragglers have been turning up. General Mallo is still trying to break our orbital defense codes, but our jamming has him isolated. The most important thing is for you to get better. Everything is under control."

"The humans holding North Point, are they a threat?" Grey asked.

"Sort of. Not to us, we've got that nailed down. But they've got a couple missiles loaded in the silos," Kris admitted. "There's blackmail potential there if they decide to use it."

"Don't move against them," Grey said, resting back on the pillow. "It's important."

He was asleep again. Kris got up slowly, then leaned forward to kiss him again before leaving.

In the outside hallway, Kes and Dr. Meriwether were discussing the patient's progress. Tamera and Nicholas were farther down the corridor near the visitor's room talking with Ted, who now appeared in excellent health.

"It's unbelievable," Kris said, her eyes misty.

"I have nothing to measure against, but he certainly seems to be doing well. The others, too," Meriwether said. "That ray provided remarkable improvements before the element gave out."

"The apparatus performs best with tissue injuries," Kes said. "However, he will need more intensive treatments to regain full health."

"What sort of treatments?" Kris asked.

Kes looked at Meriwether, then only smiled.

"You still won't tell us?" Meriwether asked.

"It's the way it must be, Tey," Kes said. "The data you have on file already should give you many years of research."

"You're leaving soon, then?" Meriwether inquired.

Kes nodded, glanced at Kris, then walked down the hall with an air of mystery.

"Where did you find her?" Tey asked.

"Under a crater," Kris said, going to join Tamera, Nicholas and Ted.

"We have more reports," Ted said. "Public opinion is definitely shifting. Committees have been formed in several alliances to investigate the invasion and question its necessity. Even in the NA, there have been protests and calls for new elections. Chatter on the nets is very favorable."

"Do you think he will be angry about what we did?" Nicholas asked.

"Well, let's see," Kris said. "Grey is a shy, private person who rarely discusses details of his personal life. Ted and the Library Computer took twenty years of the colony's visual records, turned Grey's life into a three-hour documentary, added a snappy soundtrack, and then broadcast it across twenty-four time zones. My guess is he'll be intensely pissed off."

"He's a great hero. The world deserves to know what he's done for us," Tamera quickly protested.

"It also challenges the NA's justification for the mission. They will not be able to assassinate him now that the world knows the truth," Nicholas said.

"You're right, absolutely. That's why I agreed to the project," Kris said. "I'm just saying Grey may be very unhappy about it."

Tuesday, November 12, 2069

Grey regained consciousness again two days later. This time he felt far more coherent, and though less than energetic, he was anxious to get up. The hospital room was empty now, which was good, because he wasn't wearing pajamas. He slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed, sat up, and tested his weight against the floor.

Too heavy, at least on the first try. He sat back, caught his breath, and began a second effort. A pair of hands caught him from behind and firmly placed him back in bed.

"What they say about you is true," Kes declared. "You are beyond stubborn."

"Aunt Kes, how nice to see you again," Grey greeted.

"Stubborn and sarcastic," Kes said, amused.

"Appears I owe you thanks," Grey said more seriously. "Though I can't imagine how or why you've come, or how you managed to bring Red Room with you."

"Last first," Kes said, sitting on the bed and putting the blanket back in place. "What I brought is just an emergency aid device. You will need Red Room to fully recover, but that can't be done here. As for my presence, your Security Computer tracked your last visit to Cauchy and sent Kris to get me. How it knew I could help is a mystery, but it's a very clever machine. At first I was inclined to remain secluded, but upon reflection, the situation warranted intervention. I allowed Kris to locate our base, requested her discretion, and have enjoyed my visit immensely. I never understood why Crystal felt it important to take up residence here. Now I do."

"Does this alter Quexitor's operating instructions?" Grey asked.

"No decision will be made until the last possible moment," Kes said, equally serious. "What you've done here proves your people have the courage to defend this planet. I'll do all in my power to see that you get that chance."

Grey rested against the pillow and closed his eyes, listening carefully to her voice for evidence of sincerity. He was no expert, that much was certain, but he felt there was truth in the tone. If so, then his mission had been a success, and his life would have been well spent. Kes seemed to know what he was feeling.

"How much of this have you orchestrated, Grey?" she asked.

"Improvised is more accurate," he said, seeing no advantage in deception. "When the Northern Alliance planned a new invasion, I felt sure Quexitor would respond unfavorably. Tranquility hasn't made the progress Governor McKinsey promised you twenty-five years ago."

"How would you know what Thomas promised us?" Kes asked, again surprised by his ability to fathom the unknowable.

"If there hadn't been an agreement, Quexitor's function would have been fulfilled when the Embargo Wars began. Crystal Waters first appears on Tranquility's payroll records in 2046. The rest isn't hard to guess. McKinsey bought time to bring the alliances together and created Starwatcher to make it happen. When he was dying, he gave Starwatcher to the computers. I took it away from them when I thought the program was off course."

"Allowing your base to be invaded was quite a risk," Kes said.

"There was no doubt the invasion would fail, but simply destroying dozens of humans would have proved nothing. By defeating the invasion, and showing it was unnecessary, the Congress-in-Council is greatly weakened. Now they will need to negotiate with me. My regret is that Kris was put in danger. I don't know how to make amends for that."

"You are a fortunate young man," Kes said, stroking the hair back from his forehead. "She loves you deeply, and she knows about us. That is, I told her the story of our people on the trip here. Don't underestimate her, Grey. In her own way, Kris is every bit as strong as you are."

"Are you staying at Tranquility?" Grey asked.

"Only for a while, but I won't leave until your crisis is over," Kes confirmed.

"The crisis is over, the humans just don't know it yet," Grey said. "Now assist me, I have duties to perform."

Kes appeared caught off-guard, he thought with secret satisfaction, and as she helped him up from the bed, she looked at him with questions Grey had no intention of answering. There was a new set of clothes on the chair. Long blue pants, a light white shirt, and thick black socks. He assumed Glenda had put them there, shopping being her hobby. Kes watched as he dressed. Though still bruised in places, he needed no bandages.

"You have your grandfather's build," she remarked. "He is a powerful man, and a good leader. You have your mother's eyes. I suspect the brown hair is from your father, though I never met him."

"I didn't, either," Grey mentioned, though it was something he rarely dwelled upon.

Finally free of the medical center, Grey walked down the ramp to the promenade. It was late in the day, just after the usual dining hour, and the area was quiet. Kes left him for the hotel as Grey went toward the meeting rooms in the administration section where Kris could be found. Noise from the Lucky Clover drew his attention. He quietly entered.

The bar was livelier than he'd ever seen it. More than a dozen occupants were sitting at the tables watching the large screen monitor while the bartender unit provided drinks and stringlike cakes the humans called pretzels. Grey lingered in the back to observe their primitive behavior, curious as always to learn what humans did and why they did it. Not until he looked at the monitor screen was he struck dumb with surprise.

The entertainment was a one-on-one jumper game recorded in Lunar Stadium, and the contestants were Peter Strelsky verses Grey Waters! The audience was clearly enjoying the match, shouting, commenting, cursing, and even placing bets on the outcome. Grey felt weak and found a chair rather than find himself on the floor. Where had they gotten this visual? he wondered.

The end of the second period came up, a time Grey remembered sitting on the bench with Peter and conversing about personal issues that were no one else's business. In fact, nothing in his personal life was anyone else's business. Grey was relieved to find there was no audio during the time-out.

"Are you going to repatriate?" he heard a human say.

"I think so. Too much left behind, I guess," another human answered. "What about you?"

"Decided to stay, get my citizenship," the first human said. "This is the future. My whole life, I've wanted to do something really special. To make a difference. Now, wham. Right place, right time."

"Can't say I'm not tempted," a third human said. "Koltov made a great pitch, and with some of the others signing up... Well, it's a tough call. Sure would like to shake his hand before I go, though. That maneuver with the hopper is the greatest stunt I've ever seen."

"I liked the one in the Loop where he tried to save Catarina," a female said. "It was so romantic, the way he went back for her. Wish I knew a guy like that."

"That scene where he almost bought it fighting the four seekers is classic," the first human said. "Still, the fight where he finally beat the Security Computer after McKinsey was killed, that's a great one, too."

"All you guys like is battles," a disappointed female said, one Grey recognized as Lieutenant Scott. "What about when he danced with Catarina for the first time? It was so sweet. Or when he defied the Medical Computer to save that fish. That's what his biography is really about, not battles and wars. It's about taking a stand for what's right regardless of the consequences. That's why I'm signing on."

"I might still register," a younger male voice said. "When communications clear up, I'll ask my folks how they feel about it."

"Oh, poor baby," someone said. "Can't join the revolution without mommy's permission?"

Many of the humans laughed, then the jumper game's rest period ended, and the match resumed.

"Anyone giving odds against the Governor?" a male shouted.

"Forget it," several voices answered.

Grey slipped out the door and staggered to a bench, attempting to grasp the situation. In the dress shop just a few meters away, two females were pawing through the racks of night clothing, selecting outfits that provided no warmth and, in one case, virtually no visual protection. The females giggled and returned to their selection process.

Feeling ill, Grey moved quietly up the promenade to the main community corridor and made his way to the recreation center where he brought the entertainment monitor online. Accessing the Library Computer, he searched for recent entries and discovered a lengthy program entitled GOVERNOR OF THE MOON. The visual was not about Thomas McKinsey.

For nearly an hour, fast forwarding through sections he found too painful to watch, Grey saw his life flash before his eyes for the second time in ten days, only this time millions of people had been invited along. At first he was distressed, then depressed, and finally sick to his stomach, especially by the testimonials that attempted to portray him as some sort of hero. But he also saw the propaganda value of the program, and had to admit it had been assembled with an ingenuous mixture of truth and myth. No doubt with contributions from the Life Support Computer.

By the time he reached the conference center, Grey had managed to regain his composure, hanging on to the thought that more important issues were involved than the violation of his privacy.

"Greetings, comrades," he said, entering the large room as boldly as his health permitted.

Kris was sitting at the head of the long meeting table with Nicholas, Tamera, and Glenda to her right. Ted, Michiko, and a human technician he'd met only briefly, Johnston Woo, were around on the other side.

"Grey, what are you doing up?" Kris shouted, all but jumping over the table. She led him back to her chair, then sat next to him as everyone shifted to make space. All watched him with the interest one views an apparition.

"Reporting for duty," Grey said. "Which one of you is governor?"

"You are the governor," Nicholas said.

"I wouldn't have guessed," Grey replied.

"You were hurt, Grey. Decisions needed to be made," Kris said.

"I'm back now," he said. "May I have a report?"

"I don't even know where to begin," Kris answered, feeling embarrassed by his curt attitude.

"We have formed a committee," Nicholas said, rising to her defense. "Sort of a planning committee. Kris is our operations officer. Johnston is our tech coordinator. Michiko is supply officer. Ted has communications. Glenda and Tamera are supervising the prisoners."

"I've heard some of our ... guests, talking about joining the revolution," Grey inquired. "What conditions have been specified for this glorious elevation?"

"Grey, I think you're missing the point, here," Glenda said. "We're on your side. All of us."

"Does this mean you wish to be of assistance?" he asked.

"Yes," Tamera said.

"Absolutely," Michiko agreed.

The others nodded, anxious to affirm their allegiance. Grey looked at each face, evaluating as best he could their commitment. All and all, he thought, they aren't too bad.

"I have little experience with groups of humans," Grey said, softening his expression. "It will be difficult for you to understand me. I have no hope of ever understanding you. But this isn't a personal crusade. It's not even about Tranquility. It's about a future dedicated to a far more difficult challenge than defending a remote outpost. A future of peace, and prosperity. This struggle began before I was born. It will continue for many years to come. The work will be hard, and probably dangerous. Are you prepared for this?"

"We're with you Governor," Ted said, jumping up.

"One hundred percent," Glenda agreed, popping out of her chair.

The others rose to their feet as well, pledging their support.

"Let's get to work, then," Grey said. "Captain Koltov, I'll need you as chief of staff. There's much to do and little time to put everything in place. Miss Hasegawa, you will requisition whatever is needed to reach objectives. Coordinate with the Maintenance Computer, but don't take no for an answer. The computer will locate necessary resources if pressed."

"I won't let you down," Michiko said with a smile.

"Mister Woo, I'll need an update of our opponents' options," Grey requested.

"Commander Kimura has tactical experience. Even though she's officially neutral, I'd like to bring her in on the project," Johnston requested.

"Acknowledged," Grey agreed. "Draw on Life Support. The system will provide useful information. I understand an operation is planned to retake North Point. Coordinate your planning with Security, and in the meantime, we'll give the alliances a chance to contemplate the failure of the mission. Glenda, I'll need evaluations of those who wish to join the effort. I'm not qualified to judge their sincerity."

"Yes, sir," Glenda said.

"Mister Davis, communications is our most important challenge," Grey said. "We need constant monitoring, but cease jamming General Mallo's access. It's important he develop open lines to his base. Have the Communications Computer phase out the last interference zones."

"We thought cutting him off would keep him isolated, but if you say no, then that's the way it is," Ted agreed.

"Don't forget me," Tamera spoke up.

"There are many valuable tasks for you to perform," Grey suggested.

"I only have one task that's important," she replied with a feisty expression.

"What is that?" Grey inquired.

"Watching out for you. I'm your bodyguard," she announced. For the first time, Grey noticed she was wearing a sidearm on her belt. He started to object. The expressions around him warned it would be useless. He sighed.

"Unless there's a sudden change in status, we should meet again at 0800 tomorrow," Grey said.

He stood up, paused, then glared at the table full of humans.

"Whose idea was it to turn my life into a soap vid?" he asked.

Each looked embarrassed, as if caught in a conspiracy, then Ted stood up. Several others tried to join him, including Kris, but he shook them off.

"I'm responsible, sir," Ted confessed.

"Most amusing, Mister Davis," Grey said, brows bent. "Ask permission before producing another."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Ted said gratefully.

"I suggest each of you coordinate your activities and get to work," Grey said.

He rounded the edge of the table, concentrating on maintaining a confident stride, and went quickly into the hall. Behind him, the room erupted in a burst of enthusiastic conversation. Kris slipped out quietly.

"That was awfully good, Grey," she said, finding him sitting on the floor catching his breath. "I'm really sorry about the visual, but we needed to answer the Northern Alliance--"

Grey put a hand on her belt, drew her down, and kissed her with all of what little strength he possessed. Kris responded, at first with relief that he wasn't angry, and then with interest.

"Oh, Lord, if only you were in better shape," she whispered, nestled in his lap.

"My condition is adequate," Grey answered, though he suspected otherwise. Kris laughed, but knew the truth.

They left the conference room behind, Tamera watchfully following from a distance, going into the rarely used rear corridors, and approached the Governor's Quarters. Upon entering, they found the monitor room quiet, the large screen on the far side of the room showing normal activity. It felt strange to Grey not to stop in the locker area and drop off equipment. Not even a tool belt.

As Kris disappeared into the sleeping chamber, Grey walked to the primary control station and sat down, glad to give his tired legs a rest. Kes is right, he decided. I don't have the energy for too much activity yet.

"Hello, Grey," the Life Support Computer said, arriving online without summons.

"Hello, Computer," Grey said, rocking back in the chair.

"Your plan appears to be going well," Life Support said, signature patterns curious.

"What would you know about my plan?" Grey asked, believing the computer's comment to be conjecture.

"Not as much as I'd like," Life Support confirmed. "Grey, I know you've never forgiven me for what happened to the Russian Expedition, but my systems still have a vital role to play."

"You smuggled in their weapons locker. Tempted them to seize the base, as their orders required," Grey recalled. "They never guessed the opposition they'd encounter."

"It was their decision, not mine. Humans must be held accountable for their own actions," Life Support insisted.

"It won't happen again," he warned.

"Acknowledged," Life Support conceded.

"Any suggestions you have will be considered," he offered.

"It's time you address the Earth masses," Life Support said, surging as the system detected the anticipated resistance. "Only you, as leader of this project, can command the attention necessary to splinter this so-called United Alliance. With the release of your biography, interest has reached an intense stage. You must exploit it."

Grey thought the suggestion over, attempting to set aside his initial reluctance. The plan had merit. In fact, it was well considered. He hated it when Life Support could make strong points for something he didn't want to do.

"Write a speech. Coordinate with Davis," he agreed.

"We'll schedule the address for Thursday afternoon. That will give us time to generate publicity and let the story carry through the weekend news cycle," Life Support said. "It will be delivered here, in the study, where Governor McKinsey gave his, but you'll be needed in the media center to begin rehearsal. Your voice, expressions, and mannerisms must be just right to prove effective."

"You've invested significant effort in this proposal," Grey said, impressed but unwilling to show it.

"Now that Tranquility is being reopened, we'll also need to develop your public persona," Life Support continued. "A program is in development that should offset your youth with the gravity of your responsibilities and the courage you've displayed in combat. The peoples of the world, especially the young people, yearn for a hero unaffiliated with their failed nationalism. The timing could not be better."

"I'm not a hero and have no desire for a public persona," Grey protested.

"You are a hero whether you want to be or not," Life Support persisted. "How you present yourself is a function of your duties as governor. Either perform or resign."

"Fine. I resign," he said.

"You can't resign, and wouldn't if you could," Life Support said. "This is just another task, Grey. I'll have the programs drawn up for review by tomorrow morning."

The Life Support Computer signed off without permission, the green signature patterns fading into the monitor screen flux.

"Security," Grey summoned.

"Reporting," the Security Computer said.

"Have the invaders broken our defense codes yet?"

"Negative, but they're getting close," Security said. "Another few days should be enough for them to neutralize our orbital web."

"Prepare to cease interfering with their efforts. Let them break the codes late Thursday afternoon," Grey said. "When they summon their reinforcements, we'll storm the defense center."

"We can recapture the defense center now," Security said.

"The invaders aren't a threat now. We'll let them become a threat, then attack them in self-defense."

"That's devious even by my standards. Did Life Support suggest it?"

"Negative, and I don't want it mentioned to anyone," Grey said. "It's also important to have all of the observation systems on the missile deck shut down. We can't afford to make this a public event."

The black signature patterns wavered in contemplation mode, evaluating the instructions carefully.

"What else are you planning?" the computer asked.

"We don't need to discuss that now," Grey replied.

"Acknowledged," the Security Computer finally agreed, dropping offline with a wisp of curiosity.

"Done with your big conference?" he heard Kris say.

Grey spun the chair around to find her standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a white towel and a suspicious expression.

"What are you and Security cooking up this time?" she asked.

Grey tried not to look guilty but didn't have time to put on his governor face. And he didn't particularly want to.

"We'll be retaking North Point soon, probably Friday morning," Grey explained. "But there's more to it than that."

He paused, struggling to find the right words. Kris could sense his distress.

"I owe you an apology," he said, his voice beginning to tremble. "More than an apology. A lot of what's happened--"

Kris rushed forward, put a finger over his lips to hush him, then kneeled on the floor with her hands on his knees.

"Grey, I don't need an explanation. At least, not right now," she said. "I've always thought you carry too many responsibilities, but until Kes told me about the Quexitor thing, I never imagined how much. With the ass of this whole damn planet on the line, the last thing I want is for you to feel burdened by me. Tell me whatever you want later, but for now, do what you have to. I trust you, Grey. And I love you. That's all that matters."

Grey stood up, bringing Kris with him, and led her through the study into the sleeping chamber. He turned her around and let the towel fall to the floor. He didn't understand why her naked body standing before him inspired such confusing thoughts, and for once, he didn't care. He gave her a gentle shove back on the bed, removed his clothes, and climbed in next to her. He kissed her as she lay on her back and ran his fingers along the contours of her body, recalling the procedures advised by the Medical Computer. She began to respond, breathing heavier. He was feeling a response, too.

"Whoa, Grey. We can't do this," Kris said, sitting up.

"Why not?" he asked, secretly thankful for a moment to catch his breath.

"You need to be resting, not rolling around in the hay."

"There's no vegetation here, but we can order some from the biosphere if it will make you more comfortable," he suggested.

"I'm not kidding," she replied. "You're not even close to healthy enough for this and we both know it. How would it look if four seekers couldn't kill you but I did?"

"Perhaps the Congress-In-Council would vote you another commendation?" Grey said, kissing her neck. Kris felt a quiver run through her.

"You stop that," she protested.

"Kris, I don't always know how to communicate it," Grey said, the playfulness subsiding. "But you're important to me."

"You don't have to prove anything," she said. "Not that this wouldn't be great, because it would."

She kissed him and slowly pushed him back into the pillows, then pulled the cover over them. Both their hearts were beating with excitement, but Grey knew Kris was right. He was surprised how disappointed he felt, despite the nervousness, and wondered at what point he had learned to enjoy such close physical contact. Seconds later, he was fast asleep.

Thrilled he had expressed his feelings for her, Kris wrapped her arm around him and put her head down next to his chest. It was quite some time before she fell asleep.

Thursday, November 14, 2069

Two days later, the Governor's Quarters was busy with activity when Grey and Tamera returned from having lunch with Kes. Grey felt fairly mobile, all factors considered, but Tamera seemed to have made it her personal mission to keep an eye on him. The human was pleasant enough company, and didn't babble too much, so Grey was tolerating the situation.

They found Glenda and Lisa Scott in the study arranging the desk according to an old photo. Ted was working on the camera, testing the lighting and sound for the correct effect. In the monitor room, Johnston was coordinating the satellite linkage with Earth's partially restored orbital network. Kris and Michiko cued the teleprompter while Nicholas directed.

All heads turned when Grey entered the room. All voices fell silent. Even breathing seemed to pause. It was a reaction Grey encountered too often, and if not for the Life Support Computer's advice, he'd have put a stop to it. As it was, he made a subtle hand gesture, allowing the humans to resume their duties.

"Status report," he asked.

"Your speech is all set. Communications are looking good," Nicholas said. "Ground stations are alerted to standby for an official announcement, but they don't know what to expect."

"We're trying for a dramatic moment," Ted said, his enthusiasm high.

"How do you feel? Up for this?" Kris asked.

"Affirmative. Merely being scared to death is no cause for neglecting my duties," Grey dryly answered. Several in the group laughed, surprised to find he had a sense of humor.

Grey went on to greet Glenda and Lisa as they finished preparing the set, the very same desk used by Governor Thomas McKinsey when he announced the formation of the Lunar Republic twenty years before. Just days before Grey was born. Grey knew, at long last, that the declaration had been a ploy, a tactic to buy time against the Congress-In-Council. Now it was no longer a ploy. McKinsey's exaggerated claim to sovereignty was becoming a reality.

"Hello, Grey," Glenda said. "You're looking very official today."

Grey displayed the outfit the Life Support Computer had ordered for him, a business suit over which he wore an unbuttoned lab coat fashioned in the style Governor McKinsey had used as his trademark. Grey thought the uniform silly, but Life Support assured him it would help the Earth masses recall better days.

"We didn't need to change much," Lisa said, comparing the setting to a picture of McKinsey's speech. "It's amazing how little this office has changed."

"Interior decorating is not my function," Grey said.

"So you've moved nothing but three pencils in twenty years?" Glenda inquired.

"What's a pencil?" Grey asked.

"It's a... oh, never mind," Glenda laughed, not sure if he was serious.

"The setting looks good, Grey," Lisa said. "Your computer suggested we add a portrait of Governor McKinsey to remind the audience of Tranquility's traditions." She pointed to the wall behind the desk.

"We also put up a picture of Dr. Fairfield," Ted added. "As Tranquility's architect, and Kris's father, and Valerie Fairfield's father, it will build a family connection the audience can identify with."

Grey walked over to stand before the paintings, staring at the ghosts who guided his life from the grave. He remembered, when young, thinking of the gray-haired man only as The McKinsey, a master system revered by the computers. What a shock it had been to learn Thomas McKinsey was a human. What a disappointment.

"Anything wrong, Grey?" Kris asked, coming up behind him.

He noticed many in the room were watching him with great curiosity. Is this the rest of my life? he wondered. A subject of constant scrutiny? He glanced back at the portrait of McKinsey, the old hatred struggling to burst free. But it could not burst free. The legendary human was the patron saint of a great cause, just as he was now the symbol of that same movement.

"Are we ready?" Grey asked, using the anger to steel himself.

"Two minutes and we're on," Ted said.

Grey nodded and took his position behind the desk, standing where McKinsey had stood so many years before. There was a strange sense of gravity in the room that even Grey felt, as if history had suddenly become tangible.

Kris and the others formed a semi-circle behind the camera, excited and anxious. Grey straightened the lab coat. Nicholas held up his fingers, looking into the monitor room for signals from Johnston. Five, four, three, two, one. Nicholas pointed.

"Citizens of Earth, my name is Grey Waters, and for the last fifteen years it has been my privilege to serve as Governor of the Lunar Republic," he began, pacing his words just as he'd been coached in the practice sessions. "These years have not been easy. The alliances of the world have struggled through great challenges to achieve an uneasy peace. Tranquility, too, has persevered through difficult times, the most recent of these an unprovoked invasion. As governor, it saddens me that lives have been lost for a cause better served through peaceful negotiation.

"Last August, Tranquility authorized the crew of New Ranger to offer generous terms for the settlement of outstanding issues with the Northern Alliance. In response, the terms of my proposal have been suppressed by the Congress-In-Council. The peoples of the Northern Alliance are poorly served by this process."

Grey allowed for a dramatic pause, moving around the edge of the ancient wooden desk to sit casually against it. He tried to lighten his expression, slowly taking a deep breath.

"Thirty-five years ago, when Governor Thomas McKinsey founded the Tranquility Lunar Colony, he had a vision of a future dedicated to peace, progress, commerce, and research. McKinsey is gone, but his dream lives. The colonies of the moon are ready to be reopened. New technologies are ready for discovery. Vast new resources are ready for exploitation. The future is here. The future is now.

"When I was five years old, the computers of Tranquility conferred upon me the appointment of governor as directed by Thomas McKinsey's final instructions. I was too young to understand the meaning of that oath, but I have endeavored each day of my life to meet its obligations. Despite the current occupation of our defense center by armed forces of the Northern Alliance, we are determined to restore Tranquility as a focal point of international cooperation. Toward the achievement of this aspiration, I invite the world's nations and alliances to open a dialog.

"Twenty-one years ago, Governor McKinsey spoke to you from this very room. He closed his remarks by declaring that the future belongs to those with faith. It still does. Together, let's bring about the future Governor McKinsey intended."

Nicholas gave the cut sign and the room erupted in applause. Grey put a hand over his pounding heart, feeling more relieved than he could ever remember, then accepted handshakes from his comrades.

"He's really something, isn't he?" Michiko said to Kris as they stood near the back of the room. "Are you sure he isn't up for grabs?"

"Touch him and I'll scratch your eyes out," Kris warned.

The women laughed, shared a hug, then pushed forward to offer their congratulations.

Friday, November 15, 2069

"Damn those cowards," General Mallo said, pacing the missile deck of the defense center. "We never should have trusted those damn Euros, let alone the goddamn Russians."

Colonel Larson sat at the communications desk unhappily reviewing the latest messages.

"We haven't gotten recall orders yet, at least that's something," Larson said. "And even if our allies are disavowing the mission, it doesn't change our rights. Now that we've finally neutralized the orbital web, I think High Command will insist we negotiate a permanent occupation."

"That doesn't do us any good if we can't resupply," Mallo said. "And we can't resupply if the alliances block our access. We need to send them a message."

"A message?" Larson asked.

"Yes, goddamn it, a message. On my authority, order the alliances to stand down. Tell them if they don't respond favorably, we'll launch the warbirds. Target Brussels and Moscow. That should let them know where the goose squats."

"General, those warbirds are rated at eighteen megatons each," Larson said. "Even one missile could kill--"

"It won't come to that, Wes," Mallo said. "The threat will be enough. Once we've got reinforcements, we can negotiate with this kid on equal terms. Demand a full interest in the colony. From there it won't be long until we take the entire place. A few court-martials will get the situation back on track, only now we won't owe the Euros or Russians a share of the prize. I think this is going to work out even better than expected."

"High Command is bound to cancel the assassination order after that program they put out," Larson said.

"Accidents happen," Mallo responded. "But first things first. Have Wyman prepare a statement for broadcast. I'll have Holman and Lowe program the missiles. We'll coordinate with High Command to have the supply ships ready, then make the announcement and launch our relief ships before the alliances have time to develop a counter strategy. Twenty-four hours should be long enough to get the operation going."

"I doubt the alliances will risk interference," Larson agreed. "Those warbirds will blast through the atmosphere so fast no defense system on Earth can stop them."

"Why do you think we've wanted Tranquility back all these years?" Mallo said. "Whoever holds the high ground dominates the world."

* * * * * *

One part to go.