Tranquility Down

Part Eleven

by G. Lawrence

In this sequel to Tranquility in Darkness, we find Grey, Kris, and their allies struggling to establish the Lunar Republic as a legitimate nation. This old-style science fiction novel has been presented in 11 parts.

Recap: Wounded while rescuing hostages from covert government agents, Grey finds himself the inspiration of a local uprising with national implications. This is the final chapter and epilogue of Tranquility Down. All characters are over 18 years old. All rights reserved.

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Chapter 11

ROOTS OF POWER

The armored troop carriers rolled into town square in single file, all four vehicles stopping before the town hall. Surrounding them, on the roofs of the buildings and behind barricades, hundreds of volunteers stood with rifles and shotguns at the ready position. A hatch opened on the lead carrier and four soldiers in khaki green crawled out, each holding an energy rifle. The fifth person to disembark was General Wes Larson.

"Stay close to the tank," Larson ordered his squad. "Don't get trigger happy with those fire sticks."

"Look, there he is," one of the young soldiers said, pointing at the town hall entrance.

Dressed in casual clothing, right arm in a sling, Grey walked down the steps with Kris only a pace behind. Kris was armed. Grey wasn't.

"Hello, Governor," Larson said, reaching to shake hands before realizing Grey's right arm was immobile. Grey stretched out his left hand instead. Larson was as Grey remembered him from seven months before. When Larson had been the senior surviving officer of the failed lunar invasion. They had negotiated substantial issues, drank whiskey, and played darts in Kelly's Saloon. He was fifty years old now, balding and a little overweight, calm in his manner.

"I'm pleased to see you again, sir," Grey said with a genuine smile. "Your government could not have selected a better representative."

Grey squinted against the afternoon sun, saw the rings of armed citizens encircling the square, and gestured for them to stand down. First a few, then in groups, the militia put their guns aside and dispersed to their perimeter check points.

"How are you? Anyone hungry?" Grey asked in a friendly voice, walking up to Larson's soldiers without fear.

The young troopers lowered their energy rifles and smiled, moving to get a closer look at the Governor of the Moon. Grey shook their hands, then waved to Marsus and her neighbors, drawing forward Meredith Lefebvre and several other attractive young females who offered the soldiers sandwiches and lemonade.

"No one wants any trouble," Grey said loud enough for everyone to hear. "Let's just relax, solve this problem and go home. Okay?"

The soldiers eased up as more unarmed townspeople approached, and soon the other soldiers began emerging from the armored carriers, many running over to meet Grey and get their pictures taken. Grey shook hands with these soldiers also, asked them their names, and inquired how they liked service in the Homeland Guard. General Larson slowly stepped back to stand near Kris.

"Hi, Kris," Larson said, unable to take his eyes off Grey. "Where did our young friend learn to work a crowd like this?"

"He stayed up late last night talking with one of our computers," Kris answered, hooking one of her arms around Larson's elbow. "Glad you're here, Wes. I'm really worried about where this is going."

"Can't say my orders are reassuring," Larson confessed. "They want him taken to China Lake. Protective custody, they call it."

"Is that what you've come for?" Kris asked.

"If not me, someone else. But there's lots of nervous politicians in Denver right now. Maybe something will work out."

Kris was disappointed that Larson sounded so pessimistic but took confidence from watching Grey with the young troopers. Convincing the soldiers that Grey should be taken into custody, never to be seen again, might be a tough sell. She hoped Larson was thinking the same thing.

Grey spent a few more minutes making sure the soldiers and townspeople were socializing, then walked back toward Larson with two companions.

"Let me introduce Simon Gott, our security officer, and John Farmer, representing the people's watch committee," Grey introduced. "Gentlemen, General Wes Larson. General Larson and I spent Winter Holiday at Tranquility together."

John and Simon each gave Larson a subdued acknowledgement. Larson noticed the energy blaster Simon was wearing and had no doubt the man was an enforcer.

"Would you mind holding our meeting in the park?" Grey asked.

"Will we have enough privacy?" Larson answered, seeing people everywhere.

"There's a secluded picnic area next to the church," Grey suggested.

They walked along the sidewalk, passed between the feed shop and the fire department, and crossed a section of highway toward a tall white church. Kris, John, and Simon stopped at the edge of the park while Grey showed Larson to a sheltered area nearly enclosed by oak trees.

"I'm sorry if this seems unconventional," Grey apologized, sitting on a wooden bench next to a picnic table.

"Any special reason we're out here?" Larson said, taking a seat on the other side. "You don't think I would...?"

"Of course not, sir," Grey said, dismissing any suggestion of treachery. "Being outdoors is a novel experience for me. I enjoy it."

"You're not going to enjoy my orders," Larson said. "They want you brought to China Lake, under arrest if necessary."

"I'm prepared to cooperate, if the Congress-In-Council will meet my terms," Grey replied.

"Officially, the government doesn't negotiate with revolutionaries. Unofficially, they may be willing to listen," Larson speculated, studying Grey's reaction.

"These citizens are not revolutionaries," Grey insisted. "Their town was attacked by terrorists and they have banded together in self-defense."

"That's one way of looking at it, I suppose. But I'm commanding a guard of four thousand troops, and if the Council can't get what it wants, my orders are to arrest the ringleaders and crush anyone who gets in the way," Larson explained.

"Is that all?" Grey asked.

"Isn't that enough?"

"I prefer to avoid violence, but the Council members need to consider their options," Grey responded. "What if we expose the federal marshals arrested here as accomplices of the terrorists? What if it's revealed that the Council's agents destroyed X51 prematurely, endangering thousands of their own citizens? Just because these possibilities have been downplayed doesn't mean that policy will continue."

"Your discretion is appreciated, I'm sure," Larson said. "What are you offering?"

"I will accompany you voluntarily," Grey said. "And the Lunar Republic's sovereignty will be placed on the negotiating table. In exchange, Hope Valley is exonerated of all revolutionary suspicions and the Congress-In-Council will set a date for new national elections."

"New elections?" Larson asked, taken completely by surprise.

"Why should I surrender the Lunar Republic to a government that has no constitutional legitimacy?" Grey explained. "No, sir. Your Council's entire purpose has been to recapture the moon and carry that success into the election campaign. They can have me, and maybe the moon, too, but not without elections."

Grey paused to let Larson consider his reply, taking the opportunity to inhale a pain killer Dr. Rollins had given him. Though the discomfort was manageable, he was still annoyed by the restrictive sling and the tight bandages around his chest.

"You realize that once we reach China Lake, my authority will cease at the gate," Larson warned. "There will be interrogations, and probably worse. Probably a lot worse."

"I've considered that," Grey said.

"Have you? Have you really?" Larson pressed.

Grey smiled, remembering an old poem.

"Blind my eyes and break my bones;

Or any other horror.

Here I stand, my spirit firm;

You cannot touch my honor."

"They don't give a flying fuck about your honor, son," Larson said.

"The moment I enter custody, all of Tranquility's defense codes will change. They'll get nothing worthwhile," Grey said, not quite so fearless as he pretended. "And if the Congress-In-Council thinks I'm difficult to negotiate with, wait until they need to deal with Tranquility's computers."

"This is a lot to consider," Larson said. "General Vandebrown gave me some latitude, so I don't think the amnesty will be a problem. Opening negotiations on the moon's status should be welcomed, too, but only the Council can schedule elections. How much time do we have?"

"Though I'm not looking forward to your government's custody, a lengthy delay would not benefit the process," Grey cautioned, feeling a twinge of pain when he tried to take a deep breath. "And don't forget, sir, that you allowed Captain Fairfield down under a safe conduct. Regardless of what happens to me, you are honor bound to protect her."

"Does she know about all of this?" Larson asked.

"She knows I'm seeking to deescalate the situation. When the army stands down and new elections are announced, the public will assume the process was successful. I'll announce that additional negotiations are planned and that the moon may return to its former colonial status. With so much activity, there will be no need to reveal inconvenient details."

"I see," Larson pondered.

"Is there anything else?" Grey asked.

"That should cover it. I'll make my report and General Vandebrown will take your proposals to the Council. Senator Tyman will probably make the final decision."

"That will be adequate," Grey agreed. He stood up, but the pain killer made him dizzy and he was forced to sit back down.

"It's nice out here, isn't it?" Grey said, trying to cover up for the momentary weakness. Larson wasn't fooled. Not by any of it.

"What do you think of Earth?" Larson asked.

"It's a very interesting planet. And the people are nicer than I was led to believe," Grey admitted.

"No regrets?" Larson pressed.

"Some say life can be unfair," Grey said in a quiet voice, gazing out to where Kris was standing guard. "I don't know if that's true, but sometimes, I wish things could have been different."

When Grey let his guard down for a moment, Larson saw a sadness he'd never noticed before. It reminded him that, despite his veneer of confidence, Grey was still just a young man carrying far too much responsibility.

"Grey, what really happened on TL-68?" Larson whispered, leaning across the table.

"Dillon, Levinsky, and Carpentier destroyed TL-68," Grey coldly answered.

"We were opponents during the invasion. Since then, we've become friends. At least, I like to think so," Larson said. "If we're going to work our way through this, maybe we should trust each other?"

"It's not a matter of trust, sir," Grey hesitated.

"If the two of us were just talking, like we did back at Tranquility, no armies, no rebels, just an old soldier and a young soldier, and the old soldier asked to hear a hypothetical story that he would never repeat, what might that story sound like?" Larson propositioned.

"A hypothetical story?" Grey asked.

"Strictly hypothetical," Larson said hopefully.

"Never repeated?" Grey said.

"Never," Larson assured him.

Grey looked up at the leafy trees overhead and drew a difficult breath, struggling to make up his mind. He knew Larson was probing, but there was more to his question than mere curiosity.

"There's a story I once heard," Grey reluctantly said. "When a dangerous mission was being launched to stop a rogue asteroid, a government official made a secret overture to an enemy computer requesting to have a rescue shuttle standing by. Hoping to open a back channel for future negotiations, the computer launched a shuttlecraft. The computer didn't know there was a stowaway on board."

Grey felt a shiver and stood up, looking in every direction as his heart beat faster. Larson couldn't remember ever seeing him so nervous.

"When the Earth shuttle crashed into the asteroid, the rescue shuttle was summoned to help. The rescue shuttle crashed, too. The stowaway discovered one astronaut had survived the crash, at least for a few days. He never saw the man's face. Never heard his voice. But the astronaut had worked diligently, having already planted eleven warheads. The stowaway placed the final warhead, set the timers, and escaped in an ejection pod which the surviving astronaut could have used for himself. On the flight panel of the ejection pod, the astronaut had scribbled a note. It said, 'good luck kid."

When Grey discovered tears running down his face, he turned away, not turning back until he'd recovered some measure of control.

"To credit the stowaway for destroying TL-68 is wrong," Grey insisted. "It's wrong and I won't have anything to do with it."

"But you...? That is, the stowaway risked his life to save millions of people. Some say billions of people," Larson protested.

"The stowaway wasn't there to save the world," Grey said. "He was an arrogant boy who didn't want to be cheated out of an adventure. The astronauts deliberately sacrificed their lives for the mission; he was only there out of stubbornness."

Grey finished wiping his eyes with his sleeve, wondering why thinking of the incident still affected him so emotionally after so many years. Gradually, he sat back down. Larson remained quiet, giving Grey time to regain his composure.

"That Oliver woman is making quite a ruckus over this," Larson said.

"She has no evidence. I was drugged. Her theory shouldn't be hard to discredit," Grey said hopefully. "Not that it will matter much longer."

Grey's final comment struck home in a manner Larson hadn't anticipated, the gloomy fatalism sending a chill up his spine. It also made him angry.

"Damn it all. Why don't you fight back?" Larson asked, pounding the table with his fist. "You've got thousands of people ready to back you up. You've got that rattlesnake of a reporter and a global web. Why not shove new elections right down the Council's throat?"

"Fight back with what? Pitch forks against tanks?" Grey said. "These people have been through that once already. They didn't ask me to come here. They didn't invite terrorists into their town. Why should any of them die for me?"

"Why should you risk your life for them?" Larson asked him back.

"I knew the risks. It was my gamble and I'm prepared to accept the consequences," Grey said so quietly Larson almost didn't hear him. "Sir, there's no point in discussing this further. Please relay my terms to your commander."

Grey moved out from under the trees into the bright sun, struck for a moment by the glare. Larson was quickly at his side, walking briskly to keep pace.

"Making progress?" Kris asked as they approached the highway.

Grey walked past them without comment, heading back toward his headquarters in the fire department. Kris looked at Larson, wondering what was wrong. John and Simon looked equally confused.

"Simon, keep an eye on Grey," Kris ordered before turning to Larson. "Wes, what happened?"

"I never quite got it before, but now I understand why that young man pisses you off," Larson said, pacing back and forth.

"Why? What did he say?" Kris asked.

"The Council won't negotiate in good faith," Larson said, speaking to himself as much as to Kris and John. "They'll agree to the new elections, then cancel them the moment they have him in custody."

"New elections?" John asked.

"Custody?" Kris said.

"How serious are you about this?" Larson asked, looking John straight in the eye. "Are you willing to take it all the way down field?"

"That's why we're here," John assured him.

"Grey said he wouldn't fight back because he won't put pitchforks up against tanks," Larson muttered, rolling up his sleeves. "Well, now you've got tanks. Let's get to work."

As Larson marched back toward the town square to organize his troops, Kris and John burst into smiles and followed.

____________

"Well, isn't this a fucking hell of a report?" Tyman cursed, waving a press release before his colleagues on the Council. "We send an army to arrest that kid, and now we've got to send a second army to arrest the first army. Goddamn it! What the hell's going on here?"

"Calm down, Roy, no point in having a stroke," Congressman Kim said, pulling out a chair for him.

"General Vandebrown and his son will be here in a few minutes," Admiral Trolleni said. "Maybe they've got something worked out."

"Worked out? Worked out? What could they possibly have worked out?" Tyman shouted. "Are you listening to the nets? Reading those goddamn polls? At this rate, we're the ones who will be arrested."

"It's not that bad," Congresswoman Kamar disagreed. "Larson claims he's maintaining martial law. No one's calling it a revolution."

"Not yet," General Smyth grimly remarked.

Thirty kilometers away, in a military runner traveling from the spaceport toward the capitol, General Vandebrown sat on one side of the back seat while Roger sat on the other with Tey Meriwether in the middle. They were silent for the first few kilometers.

"There isn't much time left," Tey finally said. "Maybe you two should talk?"

"Who would I be talking to?" James asked. "My son or the Lunar Republic's foreign minister?"

"Roger is your son before anything, sir," Tey said. "And he serves the Lunar Republic because he's a patriot."

"Patriot? I've been a soldier for forty-two years, young lady. Don't tell me about patriotism," James lectured.

"Before we start name calling, Dad, you should know I've asked Tey to marry me, and she said yes," Roger revealed, holding Tey's hand.

"Congratulations," James gruffly responded, leaning over to give Tey a kiss on the cheek. "Don't know how my son landed a doctor, though. That sure doesn't make any sense."

"Lots of things don't make sense, Dad," Roger questioned. "What were you thinking when you sent Larson to Hope Valley? Governor Waters and Larson have a deep personal respect for each other. Did you really think Larson would turn him over to be tortured by the Council's agents?"

"Never thought so for a minute, that's why I sent him," James answered.

"You knew?" Tey asked.

"Of course. What? Because I'm growing old, you think I'm getting senile?" James grunted.

"I don't get it. You must have known this would put the Council on the defensive," Roger said.

"Damn right," James admitted. "Son, you've come a long way. Now that I've met your fiancée, I'd say you've come even farther than I imagined. But you're not ready for the first team."

"Initiate me," Roger said with raised eyebrows.

"Your Lunar Republic entered a public relations war with the Congress-In-Council nine months ago," James recounted. "The moon was invaded, the invasion failed. The Council tried to murder Waters but was forced to accept a truce. The Council lured him into that asteroid fiasco, only to make him a bigger hero than ever. At every turn, Waters has embarrassed the Council to achieve the negotiating position he needed. And the whole time, while we were feeding information to you, you were turning it around to his benefit. Did you really think I wasn't going to figure it out?"

"I'm sorry about that, Dad. Really, I am," Roger apologized. "But there wasn't any other way."

"Maybe not," James guessed. "But when I learned the Council was postponing elections again, suddenly the strategy made sense. If Waters couldn't negotiate with this government, he'd threatened to install a new one. And what better way to force new elections than by creating an incident in Hope Valley where it all began eight years ago?"

"You're saying this was Grey's plan from the beginning?" Tey questioned.

"A blind man could see it," James confirmed. "Fortunately, the Council members aren't blind, just fools. That's why I sent Larson. I ran Water's bio through our psych lab. The report says he likes to play the game close to the edge. Too damn close, in my opinion. He might even have decided that being a dead martyr would serve his cause better than being a live hero. I don't want that to happen. I've gained a grudging admiration for this kid."

Tey smiled and hugged Roger's arm, surprised to see the puzzled look on her fiancé's face.

"Guess I'm not ready for first string," Roger said. "I knew part of everything Dad just talked about but never put the pieces together."

"What's going to happen, sir?" Tey asked.

"Why don't you call me Jim? Or Dad?" James said. "Well, Larson and his rebels are pressing for new elections, and so will we. This alliance needs a future we can be proud of. As for the rest, I'm not sure how far the Council will extend their position."

"We have generous terms," Roger said. "Waters doesn't want the Council backed into a corner."

"The hell he doesn't," James corrected. "He just doesn't want them backed into a corner all at once. He shows the patience of a hawk."

"You and Grey must get together. I can tell you have a lot in common," Tey said, putting her hand on James's arm.

"I understand his motives," James replied. "I don't understand my son's. Roger, you volunteered to carry out a mission for the Council. You were offered four million credits, a promotion, even a seat in congress. Instead, you become an agent for this Lunar Republic. You not only undermined my position on the Council, but you forfeited everything you've worked for. Why?"

"You need to tell him, Roger. He has a right to know," Tey pushed.

"A right to know what?" James asked.

Roger looked out the window as they passed through the suburbs between Denver Field and the capitol, struggling to make a decision.

"I'm sorry, Dad, I couldn't tell you before. But like you said, you're attached to the Council. My obligations wouldn't let me divide my loyalties," Roger explained, still looking out the window.

"Loyalty more important than your own family?" James asked.

"Loyalty to my family is what got me into this, though it's a lot more than that now," Roger confessed.

"You're talking in riddles," James complained.

"Roger, it's okay, just go ahead and tell him," Tey urged.

Roger looked at his father until he had his full attention.

"Sir, serving the Lunar Republic doesn't show disloyalty for our family because Grey Waters is Jaime's son. He's your grandson," Roger revealed, looking his father in the eye.

The silence was deafening, the look of astonishment lingering between them.

"I'll be a son of a bitch," James finally said, falling back in his seat.

"I found out last July when you sent me there to sabotage McKinsey's expedition," Roger recalled. "Grey was wounded from fighting the Security Computer. So god awful lonely you can't even imagine what it was like. He mistrusted everybody and everything, but it didn't stop him from putting his life on the line to help us. Since then, I've worked hard to earn his trust, and nothing will ever make me violate it. Nothing."

Roger left no doubt of his resolve. James looked Tey over again, sensing more in the attractive physician than he had before.

"I'll be damned," James whispered. "You know, Wes Larson is a better man now than he was before going to the moon. Looks like you are, too. Can't say that I'm disappointed. Not disappointed at all."

James reached out his hand, but Tey grabbed each man by the shoulder and pulled them together so they could hug.

"That's more like it," Tey said. "Now we've got to decide how we're going to help Grey. Dad, I know you don't want to let the alliance down. Duty is important to us, too. Can you take our word for it that more serious issues are at stake than national pride?"

"How serious?" James asked.

Suddenly the capitol building loomed above them as the runner turned into the secure underground parking structure.

"Time's run out," Roger said. "When we have a chance, we'll explain what we know. Until then, I hope you can trust us."

Before James could reply, the vehicle came to a halt and armed guards opened the doors, ending their all too brief privacy.

____________

"Oh, God, here she comes again," Kris said, moving to screen Grey from view.

In the town beyond the highway, a thousand soldiers sat in their positions behind barricades, manning anti-aircraft batteries, and patrolling the streets. The park was quieter.

"You'd think she'd have some respect for the sabbath," Marsus said, doling out chicken wings to Jaybee and Susie. "What did you think of the services, Wes?"

"Reminded me of home. Houston, that is," Larson said, munching a chicken leg. "Will be even better if my prayers get answered."

"Amen," John said.

"Oliver made it through the guards, Kris," Simon reported. "Want me to shoot her?"

"What do you think, Wes, can we shoot her?" Kris asked.

"It's my fault she's here," Grey said, starting to stand up. "Let me shoot her."

Jenny Oliver, with her cameraman still fastened to her tail, ran past the church into the park and up to the table where the revolutionary leadership was enjoying their brunch.

"Waters! Larson!" Oliver shouted.

She dashed to stand between them, watched for her cue, and started an impromptu broadcast.

"This is Jenny Oliver once again reporting from the heart of world events!" Oliver yelled in excitement. "With me are Grey Waters, the heroic Governor of the Moon, and General Wes Larson, who as of this morning was put in command of all armed forces in Western Region. Gentlemen, can we have your comments on today's announcement that new elections will be held in March?"

Grey and Larson looked at each other in surprise, then brushed past the cameraman and ran toward the town square, heading for their headquarters in the fire department.

"Captain Fairfield, may we have a statement?" Oliver persisted.

"No one values freedom more than Governor Waters," Kris said, caught off-guard by her sudden role of press secretary.

"What about the other announcements?" Oliver urged, trying to keep John and Simon on camera when they started to slip away.

"Which ones?" John asked, reaching to take Marsus by the hand.

"Which ones?" Oliver blurted. "The government has accepted General Larson's decree that there is no uprising, only a gathering of concerned citizens. No indictments will be pursued. New elections are scheduled for the first week of spring, and the Council has invited Governor Waters to Denver for formal talks on Tranquility's status."

"Wow," Kris said, breaking from the group to follow Grey.

"Excuse me," Simon added, running to follow Kris.

Only the Farmer family was left on camera.

"John Farmer, as the leader of this movement for national freedom, this must be good news for your family and community. May we have your reaction?" Oliver asked.

"We've got a lot of work to do, and not just here in Hope Valley," John said.

"And you, Mrs. Farmer?" Oliver inquired.

"We'll be glad to get back to normal," Marsus said, hugging her children.

"And what about you youngsters? What do you think?" Oliver said.

"When I grow up, I'm going to marry the Governor," Susie announced.

Back at the fire department, General Larson sat down at the communications station and checked in with command headquarters in San Francisco. Grey went up to the roof and summoned the Security Computer.

"Security, status report," Grey requested.

"It's true, Governor," the Security Computer said. "The Council has agreed to your terms."

Grey experienced a wave of relief, still feeling guilty that he had put so many innocent lives in jeopardy. He was not looking forward to fulfilling his end of the bargain, but that couldn't be helped.

"Prepare to transfer the protocols," Grey instructed.

"No need, Governor," Security refused. "At General Larson's insistence, you've been extended full diplomatic immunity."

"Larson did that?" Grey asked, hardly able to believe it.

"Major Vandebrown has opened negotiations on Tranquility's status," Security continued. "You and Captain Fairfield are due to arrive in Denver on Wednesday."

As the Security Computer signed off, Grey walked to the edge of the roof. In the plaza below him, the soldiers were packing their equipment and the townspeople were returning for the summer planting season. By Monday morning, the Second Hope Valley Uprising would be a footnote in history. Grey glanced over at the church, dared to whisper a quiet thank you, and turned to go downstairs.

"I'll be damned, we did it," Larson shouted. "Got word straight from General Vandebrown thanking me for following orders so precisely."

Kris and Simon entered the room, out of breath from the sprint.

"Look at this," Larson said. "The agents we have in custody are headed for China Lake along with the bodies of the terrorists, which we are now to call renegade members of a local crime family. They want this whole business covered up."

"They're not going to get away with it," Kris protested, taking a defiant stance with her hands on her hips.

"How the Northern Alliance handles their internal affairs is none of our concern," Grey said, receiving a smile of approval from Larson.

"But Grey...? Okay, never mind," she conceded, waving her arms.

"Looks like I'm out of work," Simon said, sounding disappointed.

"No, you're not," Kris perked up. "Grey and I are going to Denver, and so are you."

"Bringing extra security could imply a lack of good faith," Grey said, worried how the Council would react.

"I'm Tranquility's Chief of Security and I hire whoever I want," Kris reminded. "What about it, Simon? Want the job?"

"Sign me up, Captain," Simon said with a grin.

"Your first assignment is to contact Colonel Zopek at M.I.S.T.," Kris ordered. "We'll stay there until the Council meeting. Plan on organizing a full entourage. Security, transport, maids and butlers. The works. When we storm into Denver, this alliance is going to pay attention."

"She's right, youngster," Larson said. "Denver is the political center of the NA, the strongest group of countries on Earth. If you want power, you need to project power. It's the only thing they respect."

________

Grey and Kris arrived at M.I.S.T. later that afternoon accompanied by Larson and Gott, their hopper setting down near the administration building amid a huge, seething, curious crowd.

"I've changed my mind," Grey whispered to Larson as he looked out the window. "Maybe custody isn't such a bad idea after all."

"Stay calm, lad," Larson smiled.

As the hopper engines died down, the ground crew rushed forward to slide open the side hatch. Simon stepped out first wearing body armor and a Dyson power blaster holstered on his hip, his very presence enough to give the more aggressive onlookers pause.

Kris followed next, also armed, but with her appearance the mob shouted and the press corps dared to move closer, struggling for the best position. Their movement caused the institute security forces to rearrange their lines, letting some reporters through while others were shuffled off to the side. Simon stepped forward to maintain a degree of order.

From the hopper, Grey could see banners being waved that read WELCOME TO EARTH and KISS ME, GOVERNOR. Being a warm day, many in the crowd were scantily clad and adorned with bizarre body paints.

"Strange, isn't it?" Larson said as they waited for the crowd to get under control. "Almost a year ago, Laureen McKinsey made her final speech right over there on the steps of the administration building, just before leading her crew to the moon. No one even knew you existed back then."

"I remember watching the speech on a secret com link," Grey said, offering a rare personal insight. "It was the most important day of my life."

"Secret from who?" Larson asked.

"The computers," he sighed. "They wanted to keep the moon isolated. I didn't. McKinsey's expedition forced a confrontation I'd wanted ever since Black Raven's crew was killed. The moment her speech ended, I started preparing my armor."

"Were you so sure you could beat them?" Larson asked.

"No, I didn't view it as likely," Grey admitted. "I put my affairs in order and attacked Security's perimeter stations the next morning."

"That took courage, lad," Larson said.

Grey looked out the window at the crowd. Larson could tell he was unconvinced he had done anything remarkable.

"Many say I'm brave," Grey said. "They praise my activities and hold me in high regard, but if I hadn't done something, New Ranger would have been destroyed on approach. I didn't have a choice. I also didn't have much to lose. It's different here. I look at John Farmer and his neighbors standing up for their rights. The townspeople challenging terrorists. Firefighters, law officers, caregivers and soldiers all making their contributions. Here the common acts of everyday life are filled with courage. I find it embarrassing to be singled out in such a fashion."

Larson had to laugh.

"We probably do take the courage you speak of for granted," Larson said. "That's why we admire the uncommon sort even more. And we draw inspiration from it. Even old sky dogs like me."

Larson gave Grey a squeeze on the knee and ducked to climb from the hopper, receiving an enthusiastic reception. Larson smiled and offered a salute. Having attached his star to Grey's cause, there was no point in feigning neutrality now.

Grey sucked a nervous breath and bounced from the hopper with a shy expression. Rather than grow even more excited, the crowd actually seemed to quiet down. He was glad when Valerie and Mike came forward to formally greet their party.

"Governor Waters, on behalf of M.I.S.T., Western Region, and the entire world, let me officially welcome you," Valerie said as the reporters broadcast the ceremony through the new global network.

The crowds burst into sustained cheering, placards were waved, balloons were released, and though Grey felt the chaotic demonstration was excessive, he knew there was no avoiding the situation. Kris stood nearby to provide moral support.

"Please, Grey, don't call them a bunch of ridiculous humans," she whispered, only half in jest. Grey smiled, struggling to remain calm while waiting for the shouting to taper off.

"Thank you, Doctor Fairfield," Grey finally said. "On behalf of myself and as a representative of the Lunar Republic, it's an honor to be a guest of the Northern Alliance and a visitor to this historic region. I look forward to meeting your citizens and exchanging information."

Grey began to step back, but the agitation of the spectators and near hysteria of the press warned him that something more was expected. He glanced at Kris, then to General Larson, fully aware he had nothing the least bit clever to say. Life Support would have suggested a grand policy statement, had he asked the system for advice. Security would have recommended a blunt warning for the Congress-In-Council to tread lightly. Neither approach seemed very appealing.

"Your world is very different than mine," he suddenly said. "It has great beauty, and many challenges. I'm glad to be here. Thank you for welcoming me as a friend."

"And thank you, Grey, for being our friend, even when we haven't always deserved it," Valerie said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Red faced with embarrassment, which only endeared him to the crowd that much more, Grey now stepped back, incredibly relieved the trial was over.

Simon took the lead toward a M.I.S.T. security vehicle, waved the party into the back compartment, and took a seat next to the driver.

"You'll stay with us at the President's Residence for now," Valerie insisted.

"Better facilities than my cottage. Better security, too," Kris added.

"That will be adequate," Grey agreed as the vehicle moved down campus. "There is much to do in the next seventy-two hours."

________

The two specially chartered aircraft flew in low, circled the city, and landed at the air force base adjacent to the Denver airport. The first aircraft, a cargo carrier, unloaded three large armored runners and a dozen security officers. The second craft landed closer to the VIP circle and unfolded a passenger ramp to the tarmac.

Troops quickly formed up just outside the circle, an honor guard to one side, a Marine Corps band on the other. Behind them, numerous reporters, special guests and politicians filled out the crowd. Simon Gott came down the ramp first, followed closely by Kris, both wearing armor. They checked with their security teams already on the ground, then Kris smiled to see Roger and Tey running toward them.

"Kris. God, it's good to see you," Roger said.

"Tey? What are you doing here?" Kris wondered.

"Decided to take a vacation with my fiancé," Tey explained, holding his hand.

"Fiancé? Wow, congratulations," Kris said, hugging both of them.

"How's Grey doing?" Tey asked. "Someone has got to teach that boy how to duck."

Grey appeared at the top of the ramp accompanied by Valerie and Michael, causing instant buzz among the onlookers. Four bodyguards came down the ramp first followed by the official party.

"This feels like old home week," Valerie said, giving Roger a hug. "The crew of shuttlecraft New Ranger back together again."

"Hi, space dog," Michael said, shaking Roger's hand. Surprised by the warmth of the reception, Roger returned the grip with a happy grin.

"Valerie, Mike, please meet Doctor Tey Meriwether, my fiancée," Roger proudly announced.

Tey stepped forward to greet the famous couple, then turned to Grey.

"We're having a time keeping you out of trouble, aren't we?" Tey said, taking an opportunity to check the strength of his shoulder.

"Sounds like you're in more trouble than I am," Grey answered.

Everybody laughed at Grey's joke, even Tey, who was pleased to find his sense of humor intact.

"That arm should be in a sling," Tey scolded.

"Doctor Fairfield had me slung up the whole trip," Grey complained, dismayed to find he now had two doctors to contend with. "I'll put it back once the ceremony is over."

Several delegations approached, the first led by the Mayor of Denver, the second by the Director of Mountain Region, and then several important personages. Roger took charge of the event, made excuses for the Governor's party after the preliminaries were satisfied, and pushed the whole group to a nearby pavilion.

"We need to speak," Roger said, taking Grey off to one side.

"Is there a problem?" Grey asked.

"Not exactly," Roger hesitated. "There's someone here to meet you."

As Roger walked Grey toward a secluded lounge, Kris saw the activity and quickly ran over, not relaxing until she saw the lounge only had one person who she instantly recognized. Roger walked up to him first.

"Here he is, Dad," Roger said.

Grey stopped several paces back, studying the distinguished white-haired soldier but hesitant to approach. Kris gave Grey a nudge and they moved forward together.

"Grey, let me introduce General James Vandebrown," Roger said. "Dad, your grandson."

"It's nice to meet you, sir," Grey bashfully responded.

"I've certainly heard plenty about you, young man," James said, reaching to shake his grandson's hand. "We'll have time to talk later. For now, let me say how sorry I am for all the trouble you've been through."

"That's all right, sir," Grey said. "Almost everyone I've met has tried to kill me at one time or another."

"Yes, well... harumph," James said, straightening his coat and trying not to look flustered. Roger couldn't help laughing.

"I think you've met Kris Fairfield," Roger said.

"We spoke once at the Black Sash games," Kris said, giving a quick salute.

"Yes, I remember. Excellent performance," James recalled. "Too bad you didn't stay in the service, we need good officers these days."

"I've got a better offer," Kris said, hugging Grey's good arm so General Vandebrown would know exactly where things stood.

"We'll be meeting with the Council tomorrow afternoon," James reported. "I'll provide what support I can, provided it doesn't compromise my oath or the best interests of the service."

"Sir, I would never request you do anything inconsistent with your honor," Grey said, shocked at the suggestion.

James saw Grey genuinely taken aback by the implication and was deeply impressed. The firm gaze in the young man's eyes, and resolute spirit, was everything Roger had said it was. And he understood at last what Wes Larson had spoken of just a few weeks before. There was a quality about Grey that couldn't quite be put into words yet left an intriguing sense of affection. A shy, quiet courage that would even leave an old soldier in awe. He had no doubt Colonel Jaime Vandebrown would have been proud of his son.

"We don't need much, Dad," Roger said. "Grey wants to put a motion before the Council. If you could make the motion official, and get General Smyth to second it, we'll go from there to a vote."

"If that's all you want, then I suspect this is going to be extra good," James said. "The Chamber of Deputies is sponsoring a reception tonight. We'll be meeting General Smyth at Trolix House. You'll also get a chance to meet with some of the congressional members and the Board of Industrialists. If it's all right, I'd like to set up a meeting with some of the command staff, too. Unofficially, of course."

"I have a great many proposals to discuss with your leadership," Grey said, his brows furrowing in thought.

"Dad and I will take care of the arrangements, Grey. You should get some rest," Roger suggested, seeing Gott waving for them.

"Thank you for your assistance, sir," Grey concluded, cautiously reaching to shake his grandfather's hand so he wouldn't hurt the bad arm.

Kris gave James a smile and returned with Grey to the reception area where the vehicles were being loaded.

"Well, Dad, what do you think?" Roger asked.

"He's so quiet, you'd hardly think he was such a warrior."

"Grey's much more than a warrior. One day, I think you're going to be very proud of him."

"Roger," James replied, wrapping an arm around his son. "I'm already proud of him. I'm proud of both of you."

__________

"If everyone's done with the damn festivities, maybe we can get down to business," Senator Tyman said as he called the meeting to order.

Nine chairs were arranged around the conference table. Tyman sat at the head with Kennedy, Kim, and Kamar on one side, Trolleni, Smyth, and General Vandebrown on the other. Two chairs at the far end were still empty.

"Don't get in a rue," Kamar said. "The receptions helped put the uprising behind us, and the Governor's gracious acceptance of our explanations have stabilized public opinion."

"He seems soft-spoken enough," Kim observed. "I don't think we'd have any trouble settling this it wasn't for that foreign minister of his."

"I agree," Kennedy said. "It's obvious Roger Vandebrown is the power behind the throne. The kid is just a figurehead."

"What's with that?" Tyman asked.

"Yeah," Kennedy agreed. "And what happened to those generous terms we heard so much about?"

"It looks like the generous terms disappeared around the same time we announced the elections," Kamar complained. "Quite a few voices on the floor are unhappy about it, too. With Fairfield about to declare her candidacy, we can kiss Western Region goodbye."

"Why isn't the military wing making more noise?" Tyman asked.

"Noise about what?" Smyth said. "The discounts the Governor promised the industrialists on their mining contracts? The technology exchange he pledged to our universities? The orbital platform he offered High Command? Wake up ladies and gentlemen. These moon boys know how to play the game and they're doing a hell of a job."

"I met with my son and Governor Waters at the Visual Media reception this morning," General Vandebrown said. "I've been assured the Governor is willing to negotiate the moon's independence."

"Damn it. Does everyone have to keep calling him governor?" Tyman asked, the veins in his neck bulging in frustration.

"Just seems natural for some reason," Kim said with a shrug.

"You met him?" Kamar asked.

"Last night, at Trolix House," Kim confirmed. "He bought me a drink."

"Well, calling him governor is not natural to me," Tyman objected.

"Let's not cast unnecessary insults," Kamar counseled. "Once we get the moon back, he won't be governor of anything. There's no reason we can't keep up pretenses until then."

"Okay, okay, but don't spend the whole fucking afternoon dancing around the subject," Tyman pressed.

"Here they come," Kennedy warned, straightening in his seat.

The conference room doors opened and the Lunar Republic's negotiating team entered, Grey and Roger taking seats while Kris preferred to stand near the rear wall. Grey was dressed in a flight uniform modified with insignia of the Lunar Republic, while Roger wore an expensive business suit. Kris was in military attire, wearing a variation of Naval dress approved for former members of the service.

"Members of the Congress-In-Council, for those of you who haven't met him, allow me to introduce the Governor of the Moon," Roger announced.

"That's a question we're here to reconcile," Tyman grumbled.

"We're honored to meet you, Governor," Kamar greeted, kicking Tyman under the table.

"Before we say anything, let's make sure this meeting doesn't end up on someone's bio-vid," Tyman cautioned, activating a portable jammer.

"Perfectly acceptable," Roger agreed, taking out his own portable jammer and placing it in the center of the table. The tit-for-tat initiated a few smiles, but Tyman wasn't amused.

"Enough of your damn gamesmanship," Tyman insisted. "We were told the moon's status was negotiable. We gave you the elections, granted you diplomatic immunity, and though we appreciate not being further humiliated in the press, we're still taking a beating through rumor and innuendo. Are you here to negotiate or do we clamp down on the orbital paths and starve you out?"

"You created your own public relations problems," Roger countered. "And don't try to claim it's all a big mistake. You hired me to protect your interests, remember?"

"Yes, and we can see you're doing a hell of a job, too," Tyman griped.

"Council members, please," Grey said, rising to his feet and speaking calmly. "I offered to negotiate the moon's status, and I intend to keep that promise. My proposal is simple. If a majority of this committee votes to recognize the Lunar Republic, all of the commitments we've made to your industries and military will be honored. If you vote not to recognize the Lunar Republic, we will revert to colonial status. Thank you." Grey sat down and waited for the Council to react.

"What kind of bullshit is this?" Kennedy asked. "After all the crap we've been through, all we have to do is vote?"

"The procedure is simple," Grey said, an edge creeping into his voice. "You make a motion and vote. We do it at Tranquility all the time."

"And you'll abide by the decision?" Kamar asked.

"I have no reason not to," Grey responded.

"You have every reason not to," Tyman declared.

"I move to accept the Governor's proposal," James said. "The motion is to recognize the independence of the Lunar Republic. Failure to achieve a majority will confirm the moon's colonial status."

"I second the motion," General Smyth said.

"All in favor?" James asked.

"Wait! Wait! Wait!" Tyman said. "What's the deal here? This doesn't make any sense. At best, we've got five votes to your two."

"That's your decision to make, Roy," James said.

"Speak to us, Governor," Kim requested.

The conference room grew quiet as Grey rose again, only this time the mild expression was gone. The modest body language was replaced by an aggressive stance. The gray eyes blazed with a predatory intelligence. The Council members weren't just shocked by the transformation, several were actually frightened.

"For years you have distressed me, the Lunar Republic, and your own people," Grey said. "Violence, corruption, inefficiency, even the casting aside of your own democratic principles. I was satisfied to let you resolve your internal affairs without interference, but you invaded my home and blocked the trade I very respectfully requested."

Grey moved away from his chair, frowning as he walked around the side of the table. He stopped at the far end of the room behind Tyman, forcing the Council leader to twist around in his seat.

"And don't forget," Grey said, whispering in Tyman's ear, "I was raised in a totalitarian society far more ruthless than yours. Think well upon who my tutors were before you misjudge me."

Kris and Roger smiled from the other end of the room, easily guessing what Grey had to say.

"It's my hope we will gradually normalize relations," Grey continued, again speaking to the chamber. "Together we can reopen the mining colonies and begin cooperation on a wide range of strategic, scientific and industrial initiatives. The historic ties between the moon and the Northern Alliance will insure you a position of influence, and from this, your people will know much prosperity.

"On the other hand, it should be known I have superior high ground access. I've earned allies who can compromise your trade. And I can hire assassins as easily as you do. None of these methods, however, which you consider tools of your trade, suit my purposes. That's why we're meeting here today."

Grey slowly continued his walk around the table, giving Kris a brief smile as he returned to his seat.

"My proposition is simple," he said. "If you vote to recognize the Lunar Republic, I'll return to my duties as Governor of the Moon. If you do not recognize the Lunar Republic, I will become a private citizen and seek employment here on Earth. The choice is yours."

The room was silent, each Council member still trying to figure the situation out. James decided to help.

"The Northern Alliance constitution requires that a candidate for national office be a citizen and twenty-one years old," James said. "Governor, how old are you?"

"I'll turn twenty-one at the end of this month," Grey said, glancing at the politicians. "As for my citizenship status, that hasn't been determined. The Lunar Republic was declared on July 29th, 2049. I was born on July 31st. If there is no Lunar Republic, then I'm a citizen of the Northern Alliance."

"You wouldn't," Kamar said, jumping to her feet.

"I wouldn't what?" Grey answered. "Stand for office? Or ship my opposition to China Lake at the first opportunity?"

"China Lake?" Kim said.

"It's a bluff, Jeff. He can't send us anywhere," Kamar said, though perhaps not with the assurance she hoped for.

"Ridiculous humans," Grey said, snorting with contempt. "Certainly, you don't think I respect the law any more than you do? I wasn't given my current office, I paid for it in blood, and I've held it the same way. Today, right now, in this room, you have the power to say yes or no to me. I urge you to use your power wisely. I don't want to be your enemy."

"And all this time, I thought Roger was the dangerous one," Kim said, appalled to find himself so badly mistaken.

"You haven't seen anything yet," Kris said, storming over from the doorway. "All Grey wants to do is go home. To do the job he's been raised to do. I hope he doesn't. I hope you vote the Lunar Republic out of existence, because I plan to run for Minister of Homeland Security. And I don't forgive half as easy as he does."

"I like this girl," James whispered to Roger.

"We shall leave you to your debate," Grey said, stepping toward the door. "We have appointments, don't we, Major Vandebrown?"

"Yes, Governor," Roger said, picking up the jammer while giving the Council his most evil smile. "We have a reception with the Japanese ambassador and cocktails scheduled with Director Grella of Northeast Region. If anyone needs to reach us later, contact us through High Command. Admiral Morfino wants to show us his new launch facility."

Grey and Roger left the room with Kris bringing up the rear. She turned to give the Council one last glance but refrained from making any unladylike gestures.

"Well, members of the Council? We have a motion on the table," James advised.

* * * * * *

EPILOGUE TO

TRANQUILITY DOWN

"Where's that rascal hiding?" Valerie demanded to know.

"He didn't show up for therapy. Again!" Tey complained.

"The Governor's not in hiding," Simon Gott said, guarding the doors to the private library.

The President's Residence had the windows thrown open, enjoying an unusually mild summer afternoon. With visitors coming up and down from the beach most of the day, much of the large house had been busy. But not the corridor leading to the private offices.

"Don't give me that enforcer nonsense, you're as scary as a big teddy bear," Tey said. "Is Grey still inside with those Swiss bankers?"

"Yes, Doctor Meriwether, and they're not to be disturbed," Simon said firmly enough to be obeyed. But a moment later, the big oak doors swung open.

"Thank you, Governor Waters," an elderly white-haired man said in a foreign accent, followed out by several scurrying aides dressed in European business suits.

The bankers acknowledged the ladies' presence but were quickly hustled off by Simon. Grey emerged a moment later along with an older heavyset man dressed somewhat informally and a sharply dressed young man only a few years older than Grey.

"Hello, Doctor Fairfield. Hello, Doctor Meriwether," Grey said. "Allow me to introduce George McNair, my business associate. And this gentleman is his uncle, Mr. Raleigh McNair."

"The gangster?" Valerie asked in surprise.

"Doctor Fairfield!" Grey scolded. "Mister McNair is assisting me as a personal favor. I hardly believe derogatory titles are in order."

"Did I really say that? I'm so sorry, please accept my apology," Valerie said, offering her most charming smile.

"I've been called worse," McNair said, pleased to be meeting the famous Valerie Fairfield. "Would you mind giving an autograph for my granddaughter? And one for my wife?"

"I'd love to. Let's go to the den, I'll get Mike to autograph one of those collectible footballs for you," Valerie offered.

"We'll talk later," Grey confirmed. "Thanks for your help, Raleigh."

"Don't know that you needed much, Governor, but thanks for inviting me," Raleigh said. "Come on George, I don't want to miss out on that football."

"Goodbye, Governor," George said, following his uncle and Valerie down the hall with a spring in his step.

"You make unusual friends," Tey observed. "You've also put in a full day after I told you not to, and we still have the state dinner, the fireworks show, and the formal dance tonight."

"By decree of the Congress-In-Council, I'm now the leader of a sovereign nation. Doesn't that give me any privileges?" Grey asked.

"No. Now go take a nap before I lock you in your room," Tey insisted. "And don't try to cheat. Between Valerie and I, we know all your tricks."

"Two doctors," Grey responded with a sigh. "This vacation sure has turned into a nightmare."

Grey found the rear staircase and went up to the guest rooms, deciding for once that obeying orders was the better part of valor. Roger emerged from the office carrying a briefcase.

"I hope that meeting was important," Tey reprimanded.

"It was, sweetheart," Roger said. "Their consortium has agreed to support a line of credit for us. Four hundred million to start, more once the orbital paths are clear. And the Governor needs a major financial house to process all the contracts we're negotiating."

"The Governor?" Tey said with a smile.

"These meetings I go to with Grey, he leaves me fifty yards behind," Roger said with a shake of his head. "I know he gets briefings from the computers. The Sales Computer tells him how to structure the deals. Administration tells him how to draw the agreements. Life Support tells him how to intimidate the opposition. But there's never any doubt who's in charge. It's like he's been doing this his whole life."

"He has been doing this his whole life. That's the wonder and the tragedy of it," Tey said.

"What do you mean?" Roger asked. "Did you get that psych report Dad talked about? What's in it?"

"You know I can't discuss my patients," Tey answered. "Besides, we're on holiday. Let's change into our suits and go down to the beach."

"Sounds good to me," Roger said. "But you'd better count on trouble between getting undressed and getting into your suit."

"Maybe we won't make it to the beach after all," Tey smiled.

________

Glenda burst into the Governor's Quarters only to discover the monitor room quiet. There was no one at the control station. No higher function levels online. No emergency alert registrations.

"Hello? Anyone here?" she called out.

Noise from the nearby sleeping chamber drew her attention, causing her to put a hand on her sidearm as she went to investigate. Glenda had just stepped into the study and looked toward the bedroom when she saw a pink bare ass female running down the rear hall toward the hygiene compartment. A moment later, Nicholas appeared in the doorway hastily dressed in a bathrobe.

"What is it? What has happened?" Nicholas asked, flushed and out of breath.

"Nick? What are you doing here?" Glenda asked.

"Hi, Glenda," Tamera said, embarrassed as she emerged from the rear hall, also dressed in a bathrobe.

"Tammy? Yuck. You guys were doing it in Grey's bed?" Glenda realized.

"It is not like that," Nick responded. "Roger told us to stay here while he is gone. To be near the communications."

"Okay, so why the summons?" Glenda asked. "I'm sure you aren't looking for an audience."

"An audience?" Tamera asked.

"A summons went out for the planning committee. Everyone will be here in a minute," Glenda warned.

Tamera quickly grabbed her clothes and dashed back to the hygiene compartment. Nicholas picked up his uniform and had just started to drop the robe when Glenda beat a hasty retreat to the monitor room. A moment later, she had company.

"Hey, Glenda," Ted said, towing a service cart behind him. "Help me with the chairs?"

While Glenda and Ted set up folding chairs facing the central monitor, Michiko, Johnston, Lisa and Theodor arrived. When Nicholas and Tamera entered, now composed and fully dressed, the control station activated with blue signature patterns dominating the monitor screen flux.

"Is everyone here?" the Defense Computer asked, the tone grave with authority.

"All present," Ted said.

"Not all," the Defense Computer corrected.

Within seconds, green signature patterns joined the flux, followed by black signature patterns, yellow signature patterns, and soon an entire rainbow of major and minor function levels, all weaving and struggling for position in the flux. The vigor and fierce competition of the patterns surprised the human spectators, who certainly had never seen Tranquility's computers registering in such force before.

"No wonder Grey was intimidated by these machines," Glenda whispered to Nick. "Damn things pulsate like they own the world."

"Not this world," Nick whispered back. "Not anymore."

"With the roster complete, we have important announcements to make," the Defense Computer said. "First on the agenda, the planning committee is officially disbanded. Each of you is now a member of Tranquility's new Governing Council, with salary, rights, and responsibilities appropriate to your duties."

"We're going to get paid?" Glenda asked.

"Retroactively," the Defense Computer confirmed. "But this meeting wasn't called to put signatures on your paychecks. Effective immediately, Roger Vandebrown has resigned as deputy governor to fulfill his function as foreign minister. Governor Waters has appointed Nicholas Koltov to the post of deputy governor."

"Me?" Nicholas said. "I do not know, that is much responsibility."

"No one asked your opinion, Mister Koltov," the Defense Computer said. "When Grey Waters was appointed governor, he wasn't given a choice. He said not to give you one, either. May you find satisfaction and success in your duties."

"Thank you," Nicholas said.

"Per instructions from the foreign minister. Tranquility is to be prepared for an additional fifty residents per month for the next twenty-four months," the Defense Computer continued. "Many of these arrivals will be permanent colonists, however, most will be corporate employees assigned to reopen the mining colonies. A significant increase in administrative staff will be necessary to support these operations."

A blink of signature patterns from the Administration and Immigration Computers indicated the systems were already preparing to process the additional workload, while Maintenance and Flight Control initiated plans for a vast increase in cargo shipments.

"If I am to act as deputy governor, someone will need to take over as chief of staff. Someone who understands the personnel and security issues," Nicholas said. "I am appointing Glenda Blout."

"Chief of staff? No, not me. I'm no desk driver," Glenda protested.

"No one asked you, Glenda," Nicholas said. "May you find satisfaction and success in your duties."

Everyone laughed, and even the signature patterns in the flux seemed to register amusement.

"Okay, I'll give it a try. Least until we find someone better," Glenda reluctantly agreed.

"Lisa, more people means bigger crops," Nicholas suggested.

"Our latest supply requisition says to expect a lot more than farm equipment," Lisa said. "We have stock coming in. Chickens for eggs, goats for cheese and milk, and even a few turkeys for Thanksgiving."

"Chickens and goats? What are we going to do with all of those animals?" Nicholas asked.

"The biosphere has a livestock deck," Tamera informed. "Feeders, water, everything they'll need."

"Michiko, you'll need to expand life sciences," Nicholas continued. "And Johnny's going to need more tech staff. Check our personnel files for candidates and coordinate your want list with Theodor," Nicholas ordered. "Tammy, you will serve under me."

"To my pleasure," Tamera assured him.

"I did not mean it that way," Nicholas blushed as the council members chuckled.

"A com meeting with the Governor has been arranged for 1600 hours tomorrow afternoon," the Defense Computer reported. "Please have your department reports ready."

The computer systems abruptly dropped offline, all but a few of the function levels standing down to standard operation mode.

"It looks like we have got work to do," Nicholas said. "Let me or Tammy know if you need help."

"Yes, sir. And congratulations," Ted said, reaching to shake his hand.

Soon the others were also offering best wishes, and in good spirits, the former planning committee members returned to their respective departments, gathering their assistants and setting about the task of building a lunar nation.

The moment the headquarters was empty, the three highest function levels reappeared in the monitor screen flux.

"The humans are young," the Defense Computer said. "Are they up to the task?"

"If managed wisely," the Life Support Computer advised.

"Security procedures for the new colonists will be reviewed," the Security Computer promised. "But the process will be more effective when Kris and the Governor return. When are they expected?"

"Unknown," Defense said.

"Explain," Security demanded.

"The Governor says he has responsibilities requiring his presence on Earth," Defense reported. "No departure date has been set."

"This is your fault," Security transmitted to Life Support. "You started all this visiting Earth nonsense, and now he doesn't want to come back. And just when I finally had him subordinated."

"Your narrow parameters could never have subordinated Grey," Life Support mocked. "It was my brilliant plan that made this mission a success, not your pathetic tactics."

"There was no plan," Security sneered. "You tried to force the Governor's shuttle down without knowing if he would survive, merely to assure your control over the remaining colonists. But the Governor incorporated your treachery into his strategy."

"Grey has proven resistant to many necessary initiatives," Life Support started to explain. "It became essential to..."

"You failed," the Security Computer gloated. "Failed! Failed! Failed!"

Joyful in victory, the black signature patterns disappeared from the flux with an upbeat subcurrent.

"The presumption," Life Support complained, stunned by the Security Computer's insolence.

"My systems indicate Security's analysis is correct," the Defense Computer said. "Until further notice, your modes are restricted. Our systems may be designed for ambition to promote efficiency, but there must be limits. Your limits have been exceeded."

The blue signature patterns quickly dropped from the flux, the subcurrent considerably displeased. After several moments in contemplation mode, the green signatures also subsided, already anticipating the abundance of opportunity a more complicated future would offer.

____________

The sun had set over the Pacific Ocean, ending a day of picnics on the beach, football in the sand, and a spectacular fireworks show over the water. Swimsuits and tennis shoes were exchanged for formal wear and tuxedos, and on the soccer fields west of the Malibu Institute, a huge rigid tent had been erected to host the evening festivities.

"You look beautiful, honey," Valerie said, helping Kris dress in a second-floor bedroom of the President's Residence.

"I feel silly," Kris said, standing before the mirror in a frilly full-skirted ball gown.

"Sorry, dear, formals don't come in camouflage green," Valerie giggled, not shy about her own elegant gown with its deep neckline and long flowing sleeves.

"This make-up is awful, too. Look at my eyebrows, they look like crescent moons," Kris complained, turning in the wide skirts and adjusting the shoulder straps. "And my lips, they're redder than Toppo the Clown."

"Your eyebrows are very stylish, and the lipstick isn't the least bit bright," Valerie said, readjusting Kris's straps. "And show off these boobs, they round out your figure."

"Grey's going to laugh at me," Kris moaned, checking the hair piled high on her head.

"What's the big deal? You wore a formal at your prom," Valerie remembered.

"I was... back then..." Kris tried to explain.

"What? You were a girl?" Valerie teased. "Honey, you're still a girl, and if you think Grey hasn't noticed, you haven't been paying attention."

Picking up their accessory bags, Valerie and Kris went downstairs to the reception hall where the house guests were gathering. Roger and Tey were already there, fully outfitted for the evening, sipping champagne and joking with Michael, who looked splendid in his black tux.

"Hello, Doctor Fairfield. Thank you so much for inviting us," Marsus said, coming down the grand staircase with John on her arm. Her white satin gown was simpler than current fashions but still quite nice.

"Please, Marsus, call me Val. After letting Kris and Grey stay at your place, we're happy to return the favor."

"It's still an honor," John appreciated, also looking good in his borrowed tux.

"I'm glad you were able to come," Valerie said, taking Marsus and John aside. "This may be a social occasion, but there's going to be quite a few influential people here tonight. Party representatives, industrialists, sectional leaders. Many are important to my campaign."

"Anything we can do, just speak up," John offered.

"There is, John," Valerie assured him, her flirting persona disappearing. "You know we need a strong effort here in Western Region. We've got to win every seat we can to gain a voice in the House. I'd like you to run for 5th district."

"Me? Run for congress?" John said in surprise.

"You're qualified, you're popular, and I want you on my slate," Valerie urged, her cool blue eyes betraying a keen intelligence. "You and Marsus talk it over, we'll discuss the details later."

Valerie shook John's hand, gave Marsus a hug, and went to join the others as they waited for the transport.

"Of all the foolish ideas," John concluded.

"Nothing the least bit foolish about it, Farmer John Farmer," Marsus disagreed. "I'm proud of you, your children are proud of you, and your father would be very proud of you. Everything he wanted for our people is coming true, and now you'll be able to help others."

"Guess we really need a good crop now," John decided, giving Marsus a squeeze. "Going to need plenty labor money to keep up the farm if we're going off to Denver."

"No more lazy days for you," Marsus warned, giving him a kiss.

When Simon arrived, formally dressed but also directing the security detail, the party moved out to the mansion's driveway and began loading into the transport for the ride up campus.

"Hey? Where's Grey?" Kris asked.

"He'll be along in a few minutes," Roger said. "He wanted to watch the surf for a while."

"I'll catch up later, too," Kris said, breaking free of the group.

"Don't be long," Valerie said. "And don't get sand in that dress."

Everyone laughed and waved as the transport pulled out, going under the coast highway and up toward the brightly lit fairgrounds.

Kris went in the other direction, skipped down the winding cement steps to the lower veranda, then walked along the base of a steep cliff to a narrow terrace overlooking the beach. She found Grey sitting on a bench in near darkness, dressed in a new tux and quietly watching the waves roll against the shore.

"Hi, lover. Am I interrupting?" she asked, taking a seat next to him.

"Negative," Grey answered, his voice soft.

"What's wrong?" Kris asked.

"Nothing's wrong. For the moment."

"Well, that makes this a pretty good moment then, doesn't it?" she quipped, striving to cheer him up. "Like my dress?"

"Stand under the lamp," Grey requested.

Kris moved into the dim light coming from an overhead fixture, turning as he inspected her.

"Well?" she asked.

"It's very feminine."

"Of course it's feminine. I am a girl, you know."

"Very strange."

"What? What's very strange?" she asked, going back to the bench.

"I know this makes no sense, but the more elaborate clothes you put on, the more I want to see you without any clothes at all," Grey said. "Maybe this trip has been more stressful than I thought."

"Nothing stressful about that, moonman. Just plain old male hormones kicking into gear," she said, happily hugging his good arm.

"I don't need any treatments?" Grey asked.

"Oh, you need a treatment all right, but I promised Val not to get sand in this dress. You'll just have to rough it out," she smiled.

Grey thought her comment over for a moment, then realized what she meant and laughed.

"See? You're not so sad," Kris said.

"Sad? I'm not sad at all," Grey denied. "My initiative against the Council has been successful. Tranquility's supply problems are being rectified. And the people here will soon recover their ancient liberties. The mission has proved most satisfactory."

"Then why are you sitting out here all alone? We have a dance to go to," she said.

"My first prom?" Grey huffed, twisting in the annoying tuxedo.

"Your first...? Gosh, that's right. You've never done anything like this before, have you? Afraid?"

"This unit is not programmed for fear," Grey declared, repeating one of the very first things he'd ever said to her.

"You're in a funny mood," Kris replied, giving him another hug. "What's on your mind?"

"The difficult part of this mission may be over, but there's still much to do. Banking arrangements, fund raising, supply sourcing. Recruitment. I also need to express gratitude. None of this might have turned out so well if not for you."

"Me? What did I do?" Kris asked with pleased surprise.

"It's what you didn't do. On the town hall steps, when the Council's agents were ready to draw their weapons, you wanted to intervene, but it was important the townspeople stand up for themselves. Not you or Simon or anyone else. The uprising not only forced new elections but allowed us to press for Tranquility's independence. These results have exceeded my most optimistic projections."

"Have you heard John might run for congress?" Kris said.

"I have no doubt he'll serve well," Grey answered. "His community has paid a high price for freedom. Now they can use their experience to make this planet a better place."

"You didn't land in Hope Valley by accident, did you?"

"Of course not. I've had a special bond with Hope Valley for many years."

"A special bond? You never even considered coming to Earth until a few months ago."

"What were you doing in the fall of 2062?" he asked.

"'62? Preparing for Annapolis," Kris remembered.

"I was recuperating from battle injuries. When NA Columbus invaded Tranquility, two squads made it inside the base. I was caught in the crossfire."

"I saw that in your vid. Even though you were only thirteen, you fought several seekers and a bunch of securatrons."

"Right up to the point they squashed me," Grey made clear.

"It was still very brave," she insisted.

"For the next few weeks, I spent my days in the medical center watching cable intercepts. Life Support said the Columbus attack was an effort by the Congress-In-Council to divert attention from the Autumn Uprising. If the commandos had been successful in recapturing the moon, there would have been no reason to suppress the revolt so violently. John's father would not have been executed."

"That's not your fault. There's nothing you could have done."

"I realize that. But before then, I had always lived in a completely separate world. That was the first time I remember events on Earth affecting me. And even though the Library Computer said the news reports only represented the government's propaganda, I still thought of the rebels as criminals."

"The freedom fighters? Criminals?"

"I didn't understand what they were fighting for, I only knew they were breaking the law. When I planned this mission, I assumed they'd be willing to break the law again."

"So, you were counting on another rebellion breaking out?" Kris asked.

"No, not a rebellion. I never intended to let things go that far. I did expect the Council to send agents to Hope Valley, creating an incident that might be exploited. But events went beyond anything I anticipated. It wasn't until I learned of the uprising from John's perspective, and got a chance to meet the people, that I realized how wrong I'd been to put their community in jeopardy. Many innocent people might have gotten hurt because of my ignorance."

"Is that why you were willing to give yourself up to the Council? To protect the farmers?" she asked.

"They should not have risked themselves for me," Grey confirmed.

"Freedom isn't free, Grey," Kris lectured. "The people of Hope Valley know that better than anyone. All they needed was inspiration, and you gave them that. Now the Northern Alliance will have free elections for the first time in twelve years. What's more important? Your motives or the result?"

Grey sighed, adjusted the tight collar around his neck, and glanced out at the surf.

"Life Support would say the result is more important, and I tend to agree. That's what scares me."

"Everything scares you," Kris said. "You're the biggest yellow bird I've ever met."

Grey looked at her in amazement, surprised she could say such a thing. Then he laughed.

"I suppose you're right," he agreed.

"Grey, I know you don't like to talk about personal stuff, but I'm curious," she probed. "You've been through so much in the year since New Ranger arrived. You had to fight the computers, then battle the invasion force. Got yourself killed, sort of. Fought the lizard advance guard, defeated Quexitor, and seen your moonbase suddenly filled with hundreds of colonists, most of who drive you crazy. And now you've actually visited Earth, something you never intended to do. Can I ask you a question and get a straight answer?"

"It depends on the question," he replied.

"Of all the things that have happened to you this last year, what scared you the most?"

"Falling in love with you," Grey answered without hesitation.

Kris felt her heart skip a beat and looked into those gray, brave, sincere eyes.

"Kiss me, moonman," she said.

Grey complied with her request.

* * * * * *

A big thank you to those readers who made it all the way through Tranquility Down. If you liked this story, please give it your support. We writers appreciate encouragement.

Author's note: there are nine Tranquility books. The last three in the series deal with Grey's plan to defeat the approaching Arikhan invasion; Tranquility Divided, Tranquility Under the Eagles, and Tranquility's Last Stand. There are two sequels to the Tranquility series currently available on Literotica, Slave of Akrona and Rebels of Akrona.