Tranquility Divided

Part Eight

by G. Lawrence

Recap; Following a disastrous encounter with the Arikhan on the moon, Grey lost faith in himself and his mission, but a final gift from Kes has restored his spirit, though she did leave him one final challenge. All characters are over 18 years old.

* * * * * *

Chapter Nine

RETURN TO EARTH

Having cleared European Commonwealth air space, the Lunar Republic passenger craft Silent Wind dropped rapidly toward a river valley in northern France, making a perfect touch down at Le Bourget Field outside Paris. The engines were cooling as a large crowd surged onto the runway.

"Nice flying, Grey," Tamera praised, sharing the cockpit with him.

"Much easier than crash landing in an escape pod," Grey confessed.

"Come to think of it, you crashed J.O.M.B. on your first mission to Craterious, and you crashed Joanie when flying to TL-68. And you crashed Packet during the String mission. Is this the first time you've actually landed a spaceship successfully?"

"Ridiculous human, I've landed safely many times,"

"Name one," she dared.

"My presence here confirms I must have had safe landings."

"This is the first time you've ever landed safely on Earth, and most of your Tranquility landings were on autopilot."

"How would you know that?" Grey questioned.

"The Security Computer told me. Security has told me about every mistake you've ever made. It says you were a very rude and insolent child, always getting into trouble."

"I just remembered why I prefer traveling alone," Grey sighed.

Tamera hugged his arm, persisting until he smiled.

"It's a big crowd out there, Grey," Tamera observed, looking out the bridge window at hundreds of people running across the landing strip.

"Bigger on this side," Grey mentioned, looking to starboard as thousands of people were pouring out of the terminal.

Grey popped open the side hatch as ground crew brought forward a short ramp. Security officials immediately surrounded the shuttle to hold back the crowd, allowing a small group of dignitaries to slip through. But ahead of the dignitaries were two men Grey already recognized.

"Grey! Look! An enforcer!" Tamera exclaimed, seeing the tall black man stride forward wearing shoulder armor and two sidearms.

"Hello, Simon," Grey greeted, descending the ramp to shake Gott's hand. "Hi, George. Good to see you. Tamera, this is Simon Gott, chief of security for our trip, and this youngster is George McNair, my business partner. Gentlemen, Tamera Kantanee, the Lunar Republic's chargé d'affaires."

The two men nodded, both admiring her striking good looks.

As the crowds were forced to wait behind a makeshift barrier, a smartly uniformed band appeared to strike up La Marseilles and a speaker's platform was pushed out. The Mayor of Paris appeared with a full court of V.I.P.s all dressed in their most formal attire. Grey put on his governor's face, shook hands, and smiled for the press. The crowd grew from ten thousand to fifty thousand, most watching the ceremonies on large mobile vid screens. The sound system was carrying the speeches with such clarity that the audience was able to hear over the chaos of the restless masses.

"I can't believe this mob scene," Tamera marveled, standing next to Grey on the stage. "You're bigger than Cat Felis."

"Who?" he asked.

"The music idol," George clarified. "And she's right. If you ever want to start licensing, we'll make a fortune."

"License what?" Grey questioned.

"You," George explained. "Vids, toys, games. Action figures. Hell, you name it. There's already a hundred companies out there cashing in on you and not even paying royalties."

Grey looked at George, then Tamera. He had heard of such phenomena. Even seen some while staying in Hope Valley. No one had ever told him it could be a revenue source.

"Investigate the opportunities, George," Grey instructed. "Mister Gott, I would like you to check out these pirates. Make sure they ante up what they owe and keep 20% for your trouble."

"It will be my pleasure, sir," Gott agreed

Tamera looked at Gott, seeing a dangerous gleam in the enforcer's eyes, then remembered something Kris had said about a Los Angeles mobster named McNair. Certainly not young George, with his clean cut, innocent appearance. A relative? What kind of friends is Grey making on these visits to Earth? she wondered.

After several dignitaries completed their introductions, it was Grey's turn to speak. He was prepared but not looking forward to it.

"Merci," Grey said as the crowd began to quiet down. "It's a privilege to be welcomed here in this historic region of the Commonwealth, the world's bastion of freedom during the long tragedy of the Embargo Wars. I particularly wish to thank you for the friendship you've shown to the Lunar Republic. I'm proud to count several of your citizens among my closest friends.

"Now a new threat to freedom is feared, one more challenging than anything this world has yet encountered. Be assured, Tranquility will resist this threat with every resource at our command, and we gain strength to know that the Commonwealth nations stand beside us."

The audience erupted in cheers, waved ribbons, and chanted something that Grey couldn't quite make out. The bedlam went on for five minutes, sometimes slackening only to rebuild louder than before. Grey initially grew impatient, but as he realized the demonstration was an outburst of affection for him, he involuntarily smiled. It added several more minutes to the pandemonium.

"That was totally wild!" Tamera said as they rode to the hotel in an armored limousine.

"I've never seen anything like it," George agreed. "Even Das Ve never has crowds like that."

"It was interesting," Grey confessed. "The Life Support Computer once told me the Earth humans were yearning for a new hero. Someone unaffiliated with their failed nationalism. Until today, I don't think I understood how well Life Support had gauged the public mood."

"It's not just the times, Governor," Gott insisted. "Hell, I might get a sweatshirt with your picture on it for myself."

"From now on, I'm charging for autographs," Grey joked, looking out the smoked windows as they entered the city. There stood the brightly lit Eiffel Tower still overlooking Paris a hundred and ninety years after it was built. And soon he saw Notre Dame Cathedral, a structure so old Grey found it incomprehensible.

"Are the meetings set?" Grey asked.

"Just as requested," George answered. "It's going to be tight with so many bankers and trade consortiums bidding for our business, but we'll squeeze everyone in. We've got the public appearances, too. Three days in London, the weekend in Berlin, then on to Rome, Vienna and Warsaw. We finish with a side trip to Stockholm, then you and Miss Kantanee head off to St. Petersburg while Simon and I go home."

"What will you be seeing in St. Petersburg?" Gott asked.

"A laundry," Grey explained.

"Laundry?" Gott questioned.

"My aunt lives in St. Petersburg," Tamera clarified. "Much of my fiancé's family lives there, too. We haven't seen them in over a year."

"I'm obligated to meet with Mrs. Koltov and other family members related to Peter Strelsky and Professor Sharkov," Grey mentioned.

"Bet you're not looking forward to that," George guessed.

Tamera looked for Grey's reaction and sensed George was right.

"It must be done," Grey confirmed, turning to look at the Seine as the vehicle crossed over a bridge. "Have you found a ferry service for Silent Wind?"

"The Euros will ship her to Iceland and the NA has agreed to fly her to California. In exchange for compensation, of course," George reported.

"Of course," Grey acknowledged, frowning over the extra expense.

"Good news is the Commonwealth is picking up the local travel expenses. Saves us about fifty thousand credits," George added. "Bad news is our budget is getting stretched thin. We won't be getting any more credit until Tranquility starts shipping He3 commercially."

"That may take another six months," Grey said. "In the meantime, we're working on temporary financing."

"As I've found out. Who is this Cal?" George asked.

"Cal is an unofficial associate," Grey answered.

"Your unofficial associate is getting a bad reputation. Twisting a lot of tails, and not shy about using threats. Does he really have access to orbital weapons?"

"It's hard to tell what resources Cal has access to. It's best to stay out of his way."

"And if he does something we don't like?" George asked.

"Take my word for it, George, you don't want to bump Cal's dark side. That's something even I wouldn't do," Grey warned.

Tamera smiled and turned her face toward the window, unable to suppress a chuckle.

"Do you know if Cal has been in contact with Raleigh lately?" Grey asked.

"Yesterday. Big secret, though. Uncle Raleigh won't even tell me," George said.

"Good. We have a new project for Starwatch Enterprises," Grey introduced. "I want to purchase all the international broadcast rights to this year's Black Sash games."

"The Black Sash?" Gott said. "The games may be big in the NA, but no foreigner is going to give a golden piss about our tournaments. They have their own games."

"They'll care this year. I'm going to participate," Grey revealed.

"You? In the games?" Gott questioned, showing a rare hint of surprise.

"An exhibition match. Three seekers flat out. Think there'll be an audience for that?"

"You're out of your mind," Gott said.

"Grey, that's suicide!" Tamera complained.

"No, just good exercise. But calling it suicide will increase viewer interest," Grey approved. "And the odds."

"Is that why Cal is talking to Uncle Raleigh? Putting credits down on the match?" George asked.

"That's not for me to say. What about those broadcast rights? My Sales Computer thinks we can buy them cheap and make a profit," Grey speculated.

"A profit? Grey Waters fighting a death duel at the Black Sash games? Hell, we'll make a killing," George assured him.

Gott grunted, convinced that's exactly what it would be, but Grey leaned back in his seat with a satisfied grin, looking again at the marvelous city he had only studied in vids. When Tamera saw Grey's look of contentment, she started to relax. She had seen that look often enough.

A moment later they reached one of the oldest and grandest hotels in Paris. Gott and the armed escort emerged first, checking with local security, then waved the passengers on. The crowds were large here, too, causing Grey to wonder why they didn't have better projects to occupy their time. Nevertheless, he stopped to shake a few hands.

Grey liked the elaborate marble lobby with its intricate flooring, blue waterfalls and colorful murals. Numerous assistants in red jackets ran back and forth, lifting luggage and awaiting orders. Though it reminded him a little of Tranquility's hotel, this was far larger and much busier.

"Governor! Governor! Governor, over here! We must speak with Benjamin Vandebrown!" a voice called.

Grey turned to see three men in somber business suits standing just beyond the security line. Gott was alerted, too, taking an urgent interest as Grey walked toward the group.

"Governor, we must speak with you," the oldest man said, a gray haired gentleman in his seventies.

"We've been trying to reach you for months," a second man said, nearly as aged as the first.

"May I inquire about the nature of your business?" Grey asked.

"We are your trustees," the third said, an intelligent looking man in his late forties. "Vince Dietrich, Geneva National Transfer."

The man extended his hand, causing Gott to step between them with a menacing scowl. The three bankers jumped back.

"Stand down, Mister Gott," Grey ordered. "These gentlemen have introduced themselves in a most novel manner. If they have valid credentials, bring them up to our suite."

Grey moved on, waving to the crowds and greeting well-wishers, the event being broadcast to vid stations all over Europe. Tamera and George followed from a distance, careful not to compromise their comparative anonymity.

"Isn't this beautiful, Grey?" Tamera asked, standing next to him on the balcony as they watched the sunset.

"Better than I expected," Grey agreed, digging deep to understand the emotions of the experience.

"It's been a long two days. The flight down. The reception, then the banquet. Has it been fun?" Tamera wondered.

"Yes," Grey said.

"Are you going to tell me why we're here?" Tamera suddenly asked. "You've never expressed an interest in traveling to Europe before. Or Russia. Or anywhere else, now that I think of it."

Grey looked away from the sunset for a moment, caught the determination in Tamera's question, and turned back to the west.

"Life Support suggested this tour might be good for our public relations, but we both know this is a personal journey. More for you than it is for me," he softly explained.

"Me?" Tamera said, caught by surprise.

"You may return to Tranquility from time to time, but it won't be your home anymore. I remember the look in your eyes when Kes talked about your babies. I felt your heart, and I want that for you. You can't have it on the moon. I know better than anyone the moon isn't the place to have a baby. You're an ambassador now. Your duties are down here. And I'm going to replace Nick as deputy governor."

"Replace him!"

"Nick's an excellent engineer. He's not a good administrator. I'll appoint him Tranquility's liaison officer with Earth's space programs. Good pay and much responsibility. And the opportunity to have a family while there's still time."

"Gorby's Ghost, Grey," Tamera said, hardly knowing what to say.

Grey put an arm around her as the last brief glow of the sunset disappeared on the horizon.

"Don't worry, this is as it was meant to be," Grey consoled. "You'll go back home and be a hero. Have a family. You and Nick will help defend this world."

"We'll still see each other, won't we?" Tamera asked.

"We're going to be friends forever," he assured her, kissing her on the forehead.

An hour later, Gott escorted the three bankers into the suite. The oldest was Cyrus Luther, his contemporary preferred to be called Jack. Sitting on the balcony overlooking the City of Lights, Grey, Tamera and George sat on one side of the table while the visitors shared the other. Grey liked the antique parquet floor and the wrought iron railing, even if they were inefficient to maintain. The lighting fixtures molded to look like gas lamps particularly intrigued him. A pitcher of orange ice vodka lay between them with George doing the serving.

"What's this all about?" George asked.

"You may wish to keep this private, Governor Waters," Dietrich said. "We have access to personal information that is not generally known."

Grey considered the suggestion, then decided nothing the bankers knew could be that personal. The secrets he valued no one knew about.

"Please proceed," Grey encouraged.

"On April 16, 2050, our firm was contacted by the Tranquility Lunar Colony Administration Computer. Acting upon the instructions of Governor Thomas McKinsey, our firm was charged with the responsibility of representing your estate until such time as you reached your twenty-first birthday."

"That was months ago," Tamera mentioned.

"As we said, contacting you has been difficult," Luther affirmed.

"After appropriate wavers were secured, funds were transferred from McKinsey Industries and from Governor McKinsey's personal account," Dietrich continued. "The first transfer was to meet the conditions of an insurance policy in the name of Crystal Waters, a Tranquility Lunar Colony staff member whose death was listed as accidental. This policy was in the amount of two-hundred and fifty thousand credits, Northern Alliance."

The bankers waited for Grey to react, but the statement made little impression. Tamera was concerned about the opening of old wounds, while George began a series of calculations.

"The second account," Dietrich said, "is the settlement of a wrongful death complaint made on your behalf. The complaint states that on or about 31 December, 2049, your father, Colonel Jaime Vandebrown, was murdered by Tranquility security systems on the order of Thomas McKinsey. It further states that this order was issued in error, the responsibility falling entirely upon Thomas McKinsey as an individual and upon the Tranquility government, McKinsey acting in the authority thereof. This settlement was made for the amount of twenty-seven million credits, Northern Alliance."

"Twenty-seven million?" George said, catching hold of his chair. "Earning interest."

"Of course," Luther confirmed, irked by the question.

"How much?" George asked.

"You understand, the war made many investments risky," Jack cautioned. "And there are fees. An institution like ours has a right to commissions when investing on a client's behalf."

"How much?" George persisted.

"We have managed a suitable annualized return on investment," Dietrich reported. "Your account currently stands at one-hundred and fifty-two million, four hundred thousand credits, Northern Alliance."

"What? You're saying Grey has a hundred and fifty million credits in your bank? His own personal money?" Tamera questioned.

"One-hundred and fifty-two million, Northern Alliance," Dietrich corrected.

"That sounds right," George guessed.

"Wow, I guess we know who's buying dinner, Tamera decided.

"Looks like you should be marrying me instead of Nick, Tammy," Grey suggested, giving her a wink.

"Nick is more handsome," Tamera answered with a wrinkling of her nose.

"Do you have any questions, Governor?" Dietrich inquired.

"Yes. Does this hotel have a casino?" Grey asked.

The faces of the three bankers suddenly went white. Luther braced himself on the table. Jack looked ill. Even Dietrich gasped.

"Only joking," Grey finally said. "I trust you will keep these accounts confidential?"

"Of course, sir," Dietrich agreed.

"George, please work out an arrangement with their institution," Grey instructed. "We'll keep some of the funds in Euro, convert others into NA credits. Maintain liquidity for now."

"Yes, Governor," George responded, seeing Grey had something specific in mind.

"Gentlemen, how did you come to use my great-grandfather's name?" Grey inquired.

"We didn't," Luther said. "That's your name. Grey Benjamin Vandebrown Waters."

Grey's look of surprise was evident to everyone at the table.

"Didn't you know that, Grey?" Tamera asked.

"It's never been mentioned before, but it does explain a few things," Grey answered. "Gentlemen, thank you for your efforts on my behalf. I'm sure we'll continue doing business."

________

Tey looked up from her desk as Roger entered her office. Beyond the broad picture window was a grand view of the Rocky Mountains and a long line of lush trees. Off in the distance they could see the suburbs of Denver, capital of the Northern Alliance, the largest city between New York and Los Angeles.

"Grey's tour is going well," Roger mentioned, taking a seat next to her.

"That's an understatement," Tey replied, watching news reports on her vid monitor. "The crowds are huge wherever he goes. What does Grey think about all this?"

"I don't know. We had a short conversation yesterday but nothing detailed. No privacy on ground links, you know."

"Better than anyone," she agreed. "How did you talk him into it?"

"I suggested he visit our allies in Europe and Russia on his way to China and he said okay."

"That's it? Okay?" she wondered.

"Grey said it like he was expecting me to ask."

"That young man always seems full of surprises. No wonder those damnable computers were never able to get the best of him," Tey grinned.

"That's not to say they haven't had an impact. Sweetheart, I have a question for you."

"What's on your mind?"

"Now that we've got Grey down here, Dad's working on a plan to keep him grounded, but there's a catch."

Tey looked up, scrunching her red painted eyebrows. "Is this something I'm not going to like?" she asked.

"I know we've talked about splitting time between Denver and Edinburgh after we get married. Grey's diplomatic initiatives could keep a squad of ambassadors busy, and I know you're anxious to get back to the university. We can stick with the plan. Technically, there's nothing stopping us."

"Fine, you've apologized in advance, now tell me what you're apologizing for," Tey said.

"The moment the Black Sash games are over, Grey's going to be on a shuttle back to Tranquility. I've talked with Dad and we agree the only way Grey will stay on Earth is if I take over his duties. Deputy Governor, acting in his name."

"Go back to the moon?"

"I know it's a lot to ask, and you wouldn't need to be there full time," Roger quickly added. "But Dad's plan depends on keeping Grey here."

"What is your father's plan?" Tey asked.

"He hasn't told me. Says everything's not in place yet, but it's coming together. General Larson seems to be in on it, too."

Tey laughed. "That's got to be the most demandable family trait I've ever heard of. When Grey first refused to explain anything, I thought he was just being stubborn. Then I caught you doing it, but I knew your background was in intelligence. But your father is the worst. I may owe Grey an apology."

"I don't know what chips Dad's stacking, but he cares about his grandson. He and Grey didn't part on good terms. I'm pretty sure we can smooth that over. Grey doesn't keep a mad on very long, but he'll leave after the games unless someone he trusts is willing to take his place. If not me, who? Koltov doesn't have the experience, and..."

"Roger, you're right," Tey replied. "You may not be Tranquility's most popular citizen, but no one's more qualified to continue Grey's work."

"So what are you saying?" Roger asked.

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by the visitor alert, causing Roger to contact the sentry booth.

"We've got company," Roger announced, going to the entry hall. Tey followed, sharing Roger's surprise as he opened the door.

"Kris! Welcome," Tey greeted, giving her a hug.

Wearing a smartly pressed khaki uniform bearing a major's insignia, Kris took off her cap and stepped inside, smiling at Tey before turning toward Roger.

"Thought I'd drop by and see why our vid conversations are so short," Kris explained.

"It's not like that, Kris," Roger replied. "Come on in. Hungry?"

"We'll make up a room for you," Tey assured her.

"Got an overnight at the airfield. Due back at Mugu first thing in the morning," Kris informed. "I want to know why I've been cut off and cut out."

Tey took Kris by the elbow, walking her out to the patio overlooking a small meadow partially covered in snow and made sure Roger followed.

"I'll grab us some snacks from the kitchen. Play nice while I'm gone," Tey ordered.

"Kris, I'm sorry Grey hasn't been in contact more," Roger said.

"More? Try none," Kris complained.

"I know it doesn't help, but he's been busy."

"No one is that busy, even Grey. What's going on?"

"Between you and Grey? I have no way of knowing. We talk about a lot of things, but rarely anything personal. Why didn't you go back with him?"

"It all came up so sudden. I wasn't thinking."

"Of course she wasn't. Grey intended it that way," Tey said, entering with a tray of pita chips. "Kris, I'm going to tell you a little bit about this, but only a little. Much of what I know is protected by doctor-patient privilege. I love you dear, but I take my Hippocratic Oath seriously."

"You mean it's some kind of weird psych thing?" Kris asked. "Grey's not ill, is he?"

"No more than any other male," Tey said. "Speaking of which, would you mind leaving us alone for a few minutes, Roger?"

"Sure," Roger said, happy to escape.

Once Roger had disappeared into the house, Tey pulled two chairs to the edge of the wooden landing. The afternoon was December cool and slightly moist. Tey wondered if it might snow. Kris adjusted her new outfit as she sat, trying not to be impatient.

"I'll need to guess about some of this. After that you're on your own," Tey said. "Grey knew the Arikhan were back before leaving Earth. He left you behind to protect you. Easy as that. While fighting them, he performed actions that were extraordinarily reckless."

"I've seen Grey in combat often enough to know what you mean," Kris recalled. "He runs the edge of the storm like a lost kite."

"After he was wounded and Glenda was killed, he went through a period of deep depression," Tey continued. "It's not the first time he's done that. General Vandebrown had the bio-vid produced by Ted and the Life Support Computer analyzed. The army's behavioral scientists determined that Grey's lack of social ties cause him to view his own mortality far differently than we do. Eventually he'll take one risk too many."

"I guess you're not telling me anything new," Kris acknowledged. "He and I have talked about this. But I thought he was getting better. I thought we had something special."

"Kris, dear, I'm sure you do. It's just not enough. I'm sorry if that hurts, but it's my diagnosis. Our ties to life need to be stronger than just one person, especially if it's someone you're prepared to die for. There's no doubt Grey would lay down his life for you, but what is he willing to live for?"

"He values Tranquility. His duty. The fight against the lizards."

"And just where does he stand now? Tranquility is being repopulated. It's no longer the isolated world he grew up in. It has a governing board, soldiers for defense. A new society in which he's a stranger. And now governments everywhere are preparing for the invasion threat. Presidents, prime ministers, generals and admirals, all with more experience than he has. Is his ego so great that he believes himself equal to such company?"

"No," Kris whispered. "He's got some sharp edges, but it doesn't work that way. He probably feels left behind. He shouldn't, though. He's smarter than any of them!"

"General Vandebrown's very worried about his grandson. James has been a soldier his entire life. So has Grey, whether he chooses to view it that way or not. We want to instill in Grey the ties he needs to be more grounded, but we can't let him know what we're doing."

"Do you think you can?" Kris wondered. "I mean, Grey can be a stubborn son of a bitch, and with all the manipulating the computers did over the years, he catches on pretty quick."

"We can only try. Roger brought Grey down for this big tour hoping to provide some ego support. From the reports we're getting, I'd say so far so good. To keep him here, we're organizing an exhibition match at the Black Sash games. He can only train for that in Earth gravity."

"He's coming to the games?" Kris asked in surprise.

"After that, General Vandebrown hopes to keep him here even longer. I don't know how, but Roger was just giving me the bad news when you arrived."

"I don't follow," Kris questioned.

"After the wedding, Roger and I will be going back to Tranquility so Roger can take over as deputy governor," Tey replied, not very happily. "That way Grey won't have an excuse to rush off. I don't know if it's going to work, but I hope so for Grey's sake. It's easy to forget he's such a young man."

"He's never had a life of his own," Kris knews. "The first four months I was with him, when it was just the two of us, everything was work. Repair projects, budgets, experiments. The only time he ever rested was after getting wounded in some battle."

"That's been the pattern of his life, and it's got to change. I'm willing to sacrifice a year or two if it will help."

"Where does that leave me?"

"To be honest, I really don't know," Tey answered, putting a hand on her knee. "You and Grey need to work that out for yourselves."

Kris sat back and looked at the nearby mountains, sensing their aged beauty. "I can see why Roger didn't want to discuss this. It wouldn't be good if someone were eavesdropping. Guess I owe him an apology," Kris eventually said.

"Don't apologize too much, dear," Tey cautioned. "It always helps if the men think we're just a little bit miffed with them."

__________

Grey thought the European crowds large, but they paled in comparison to the parade watchers lining the streets of St. Petersburg as their transport traveled down the primary boulevard. He expected the light snow would keep more people indoors. Having experienced the winter cold for the first time in his life, he knew it would have kept him indoors.

"This is so amazing, Grey!" Tamera had to shout, waving to crowds who were holding thousands of colorful placards and banners. And not all of the signs were for the Governor of the Moon. Many bore her likeness, too.

When they reached the Winter Palace once used by Catherine the Great, they went up the steps to sit on a large temporary stage, enduring an hour of speeches. Grey kept his remarks short, reminding people that the first humans he ever met were members of the Black Raven expedition and how grateful he was for their friendship, then he smiled as Tamera was forced to take center stage.

"Be careful not to crash," Grey whispered as she was led to the podium.

"Brat," she whispered back.

Tamera fared well, as Grey suspected she would, and received a great deal of applause. Afterward, they were taken on a tour of the palace. Grey expected to be bored, having seen more culture in the previous three weeks than he'd ever wanted to, but he was surprised to find many features of interest.

"We have prepared a reception," Mayor Kiriyenko said. "The leaders of the new congress are here to meet you. We have the best vodka, the finest caviar, and the prettiest girls in all of Russia. You have your choice."

Grey turned a little red-faced when he grasped the mayor's meaning, but managed a smile. Tamera poked him in the ribs with her elbow.

"But first we have the special guests," Mayor Kiriyenko added. "They are waiting in the White Room. There are no dignitaries or celebrities there, only those who have the right."

Grey's expression grew somber. Tamera took him by the hand and followed the mayor through a series of grand hallways trailed only by a handful of gaudily dressed guards.

The White Room was a beautiful 17th century gallery. Huge windows ran the entire length of the room while long tables filled the opposite wall. Grey noticed the tables laid out with delicate foods on silver platters and large ice filled buckets filled with champagne. Only one waiter was present, serving the beverages in antique crystal glasses. There were twenty-two guests, many elderly, all of whom stood up as Grey and Tamera entered.

"The Governor of the Moon," Mayor Kiriyenko announced with great formality. "Governor Waters, the families of RR Black Raven."

Grey initially froze, then moved forward as Tamera took charge.

"Grey, these are my cousins, Elena and Alexander," Tamera introduced, giving Grey time to say hello in Russian as he'd been coached. "This is Viktor, Professor Sharkov's brother, and Maria, the Professor's niece. And this is little Ljudmila, his grandniece."

Shy and wearing a pretty new dress, the eight-year-old curtsied, then broke into a big grin when Grey gave her a smile.

"This is Dr. Klaus Rudenkov, Peter's stepfather, and Mrs. Rudenkov, Peter's mother," Tamera continued.

"He was very brave, and a friend," Grey said, speaking in English except for the word friend so he wouldn't mangle the language.

"And this wonderful lady is Marta Koltov, Colonel Koltov's wife and Nick's mother," Tamera said, rushing to give Marta a hug.

"I am glad to have you back, my daughter," Marta replied in precise English, returning the hug with warmth.

Grey studied the gray-haired woman, somewhat short and more round than the others, just as Colonel Koltov had described her during those brief days of 2066 when he had met people for the first time. People who had sought to befriend him despite the danger. Suddenly, without warning, Grey felt tears in his eyes and struggled to clear them with his sleeve.

"It's an honor," Grey mumbled through a pronounced sniffle.

"Don't cry, Governor, it's all right," little Ljudmila encouraged, handing him a handkerchief from the pocket of her skirt.

Marta let go of Tamera, put her hands on Grey's shoulders, then took the handkerchief from him to finish wiping his face.

"It's no shame, my son," Marta assured him, holding him in her arms. "Come and sit with us. Tell us of our family and their last days. But do not hurry yourself. We have waited four years to hear the stories, another few minutes will not matter now."

__________

Council Director Tyman was rushing down the main hall of the Capitol Building when Congresswoman Kamar intercepted him outside the meeting rooms.

"Roy, great news," she said, but not very loudly.

"No time, Deena. I'm already late for a meeting of the Appropriations Committee," Tyman replied.

"You'll need to make time for this," Kamar insisted, taking him off to one side. "Waters is going to participate in the Black Sash games."

"That's not news. Larson secured permission from the Military Affairs Committee last week. And it's only an exhibition. It won't conflict with the regular games, so no one needs to twist their gonads."

"Roy, the rumor says he's challenging three seekers. Live fire!" Kamar persisted. "Don't you see what that means?"

"I'm sure it's only a rumor. Even full squares rarely take on three seekers," Tyman responded with growing impatience. "But even if he does, I'm sure his representative will stop the match when he gets in trouble. That's what the dead man switch is for."

"Exactly! Exactly!" Kamar nearly shouted. "Don't you get it? We can finally get rid of that arrogant little shit once and for all. A twist here, a tweak there, and Waters will never leave that arena alive. I have a tech on the inside who can arrange everything."

"Deena, I don't see the point," Tyman mildly objected. "He hasn't campaigned against us. The new trade agreements appear fair. Even this tour he's on appears beneficial. The Commonwealth is renewing cooperation with High Command and relations with the Russians have never been better."

"But with Waters gone, we won't have to worry about any April surprises. The trade will still be there. The cooperation will still be there. It'll look like a tragic accident. It's not like people haven't been killed in the games before."

"We shouldn't be taking chances so close to the election," Tyman dismissed. "Western Region may be shaky, but North Atlantic Region is holding firm. We generated plenty of goodwill by letting Atlantic City host the games this year. If we embarrass Ralston and the other Stalwarts, they're going to be pissed."

"Have you been watching those vids from Europe? I mean, really watching them? The crowds. The hysteria. If Waters suddenly hits the campaign trail, we'll not only lose our majority, but our seats, too," Kamar said. "As it stands now, we're both safe. Kim and Stansbury are a little shaky, but that's their fault for pushing these new science programs. We can't take the chance that Waters has forgotten what we tried to do."

"Deena, this is too sudden. It takes thought," Tyman protested.

"Don't worry, Roy, I read between the lines," Kamar replied. "Plausible deniability. Just forget I said anything."

Kamar smiled and rushed off before Tyman could ask any questions. He was still wondering what she meant when he was suddenly startled.

"Roy? What's wrong?" Admiral Trolleni asked, approaching Tyman from behind.

"Nothing, Carlos," Tyman responded. "Just Kamar up to her old tricks."

"Let's get going then," Trolleni urged. "These warships won't get built without funding, and Appropriations is already nervous about the cost."

"We'll get the funding," Tyman promised, walking with Trolleni toward the meeting room. "Because the cost will be even higher if we don't."

__________

"Are you sure you'll be all right? I can come with you," Tamera offered.

"No you can't, and I'll be fine," Grey assured her.

"East Asia isn't like the West," Tamera warned. "The nuclear exchanges weren't as bad as the Middle East, but they were still bad."

"I've seen the craters with my telescope."

"But you haven't seen the people, Grey. Destruction like that, it leaves a legacy, even after seventeen years. They've become a separate world."

"Separate worlds are something I happen to know a lot about. I'm no stranger to a legacy of destruction, either. Enjoy your family, get those supplies we've ordered, and say hello to Nick when you get back. I'm sure he misses you."

"You're the one who will be missed. I know you were only here for Winter Holiday, but my aunt already considers you one of the family."

"A rather stupid one, I'm sure," Grey answered.

"Okay, new languages aren't one of your talents. You can't expect to be brilliant at everything."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because... Oh, shut up. I'm trying to be serious."

Tamera looked at the small sub-orbital hopper parked on the Moscow tarmac, the yellow Chinese sun emblazoned on the side. The first Chinese transport to land in Moscow in more than a decade.

"Don't worry, Tammy. The Administration Computer helped prioritize the diplomatic issues. Tranquility comes bearing gifts and a big stick."

"Don't steal any bricks off the Great Wall, I hear they get really upset about that," Tamera warned, giving him a kiss.

"You and Nick set that spring wedding date. I want to see your homeland when it's not covered in ice," he replied, giving her an extra warm hug. Then he picked up his shoulder bag and went to the waiting transport, jumping through the side hatch. A moment later the sleek sub-orbital lifted off and climbed steeply toward the eastern sky.

"Please be careful, Grey," Tamera whispered.

There were only a handful of crew members aboard the transport. Two pilots, an operations officer, several well-armed security guards, and an old man dressed in a bright red robe trimmed with silver lace.

"Do we meet again?" Grey asked the old man.

"The spirit world is not quite the same as this one, but we are not strangers," the old man answered.

"Should I call you master?" Grey inquired.

"We are yet to know who is the master," Shao responded

"I've come as a student."

"Have you?" Shao questioned.

Grey settled back in the bucket seat and strapped down as the g-forces increased. The craft, not modern even by Tranquility's prewar standards, shook as it climbed to low orbit, lingered for a few minutes, then started back down in a long glide toward the capital of Sichuan Province. Looking out a porthole, Grey saw the lush green fields lining the Nan River, then the factory districts, and finally Chengdu itself, a city steeped in ancient culture.

"Our temple is to the south among the foothills," Shao informed. "There we will share our labors and earn our meals."

"I haven't come to test your cuisine, Shao," Grey warned.

"To be a superior warrior, you must balance skill with inner harmony, young Grey," Master Shao lectured. "Much is said of your skill, little of your harmony. Have you come to teach or to learn?"

"To learn," he insisted.

"We shall see," Shao speculated.

The craft landed on a broad airport runway. Grey saw hundreds of small passenger planes and several large cargo transports, but nothing capable of reaching orbit. He wasn't surprised. During the stalemate of the Embargo Wars, transcontinental travel had all but disappeared. It would take years before such travel was commercially viable.

They met a few dignitaries at the airport terminal, mostly for the benefit of the local press, but there were no crowds and little in the way of special ceremony. Grey didn't mind, though after all the fuss made in other countries, it did feel odd. Soon only Grey, Master Shao and a driver were in a limousine traveling through the city. Grey found the small street markets and bustling populace interesting.

As they left the city, the limousine skirted a large rail yard, passed several giant granaries, then traveled well into the countryside. The land was flat and green. Well managed.

"Wait! Stop!" Grey suddenly shouted.

Master Shao gave the driver permission and the vehicle pulled over. Grey jumped out and ran to a large soy garden, kneeling at the edge of the irrigation ditch to test the murky water. A young farmer came up, fascinated by the black vehicle and the strange visitor, then was awed to see Master Shao standing nearby. The driver followed Grey to the rows of soybean plants and quickly found himself drawn in as an interpreter, Grey asking questions about water use, planting techniques, and challenges with the weather. The farmer had questions of his own, his expressions filled with curiosity, and it was soon obvious that Grey and the farmer had many shared interests, their discussion often interrupted by laughter.

Shao watched the exchange from a distance. Like much of the world, he had seen the famous biography broadcast from Tranquility a year before. Had seen an orphaned child evolve into a fearsome warrior, beset by treacherous computers and unfathomable dangers. A child who had grown up on a world of steel corridors and barren moonscapes. The young man in eager conversation with the farmer was someone Master Shao had not imagined.

"Thank you, Master," Grey appreciated when they reentered the vehicle.

"Thank you, young master," Shao replied.

"What for?" Grey asked.

"For teaching an old man he still has more to learn. Tell me, why did your machine contact the People's Ministry, and why was so much offered for a few weeks of instruction?"

"I've fought many battles. Sometimes I've been successful. Sometimes I've failed. When I was young, I fought for myself, and only I could lose. Now I face different challenges. Ones that frighten me in new ways."

"Are your skills in question or your confidence?"

"Is there a difference?"

"You ask a worthy question."

After driving for another hour, they reached an old fortress of brick and mud overgrown by clinging vines. The vehicle's passengers disembarked before a wooden gate. Two old men and a young boy stood at the entrance anxiously waiting their master's return.

"Forgive their concern. I've not been away from the temple in many years," Shao explained. "I did not expect to ever leave again. Nor have I ever sought to see our world from the stars."

"When I was growing up, I never expected to see your world from down here," Grey related.

As they stepped inside the gate where two dozen men and boys awaited, Master Shao handed the bright red robe to one of the disciples, rinsed his wrinkled body in cold water, and put on a loose white garment tied at the waist with a cloth belt.

"We do not bring in that which we wear outside," one of the older men instructed, putting out his hands.

Grey handed him his shoulder bag, reluctantly giving up the old Lassiter tucked in the outside pocket, then stripped off his clothes. He paused when down to his underwear, but the expectant looks of the disciples caused him to strip completely. The brothers of the order were mostly Asian but not all. Several of the youngest men appeared to be novices. There were only a few females, an old woman and half a dozen teenagers standing in the kitchen doorway.

"You've been wounded and healed many times," Shao observed, examining Grey's body. "And some wounds are healed in a manner I do not understand."

Grey was deeply surprised by the observation. Several times Red Room had healed serious injuries. On one occasion, even death, if Doctor Meriwether was to be believed. Most of those scars barely showed, but Master Shao seemed to see everything with a clear eye.

"You glimpse a truth," Grey hinted, not wanting unnecessary mysteries between them. None that didn't need to be there. "There was one called Roman who could rearrange the fabric of flesh. Make it whole again. Roman is gone now, but evidence of my debt remains."

Master Shao stepped forward, then reached out a bony finger to trace the scars on Grey's shoulders and chest. Then the more recent injury to his midsection. Grey sensed the contact was not simply a physical probing. It was almost as if the old man could read his life in the tracks of the scars.

"Long have I waited for this time," Shao finally revealed. He stepped back and waved, allowing a boy to hand Grey a long black robe. Grey was happy to put it on, having begun to feel self-conscious. Which was odd. Until humans began to arrive at Tranquility, he rarely gave clothing a second thought.

"Is this how your initiates dress?" Grey asked, seeing the others wearing robes of yellow with black trim.

"No initiate has ever worn this robe," Shao explained.

* * * * * *

Of the nine Tranquility books, the first three are dedicated to Grey's early life on the moon. The next three are his struggles to establish the Lunar Republic. Tranquility Divided is the first book of the final three where he forms his plans to confront the Arikhan invasion. For readers who are enjoying this series, please give it your support.