Regenesis

“Reseune agrees with that demand,” she said sharply, and cameras refocused on her on the instant. “As of this hour, Admiral Khalid’s forces have intruded into PlanysLabs, onto Reseune territory. Records in Planys, as of this morning, are no longer secure, or safe. Within recent months, two senior Reseune perso

Kingmaker he might intend to be, silver‑haired veteran clearly on old‑fashioned rejuv. He might be backed by a sizeable and formidable division of the service–and maybe he meant to be king, himself, disregarding the constitution as freely as Khalid.

On the other hand, Awei was here. Vice Admiral Tanya Bigelow, the candidate for Defense Proxy that Reseune had backed, hadn’t taken the initiative to get up here–if Bigelow was still alive or able to move. That was a fact worth noticing. For proof of any considerable opposition to Khalid’s takeover, they had nothing but one plane and a Marine general who had yet to demonstrate what, exactly, he commanded. And if Ya

But she couldn’t wait to consult anybody, and there was suddenly a momentum going, where the media was concerned. Khalid had troops inside Planys, which the media couldn’t get visuals on; and Reseune had had a missile launched at them out of Svetlansk–which they had been able to get on camera for the whole immediate universe to see. Guess which was more impressed on public awareness. Now this man came screaming in out of the blue with a challenge and an offer; and she could prime the media and shove things into motion–if nothing else, throw a momentary obstacle into Khalid’s hitherto cascading rush to power.

Kingmaker in Defense. Awei might be–or not. History was full of actions like Awei’s, and some of them died, and some of them fell, soon after.

The smart ones didn’t try to use anybody smarter than they were. Let him figure in the next few hours that that was what he had just met. She could support him…if Klaus Awei was smart enough to figure who’d just settled the mantle of legitimacy about hisshoulders in front of the media, and whose support could make his survival in his bid just a little more likely than any other claimant. She read people pretty damned well–and Klaus Awei, for all his larger‑than‑life presence, already knew he was taking a chance. He’d known exactly where media exposure and significant images could be had, and if he was telling the truth, he had control of the Novgorod vid apparatus, which meant word would get out much wider than it had been.

He hadn’t established himself in Novgorod and tempted Councilinto coming back to the capital and appealing to him for rescue, which argued good ma

He had a real chance, if Council backed him‑‑and if media simultaneously got the word out.

“What’s this about Jordan Warrick?” a reporter yelled then, and Ari turned, slowly, solemnly, with the cameras all going, and all other questions silent. “What about Jordan Warrick?” the reporter repeated, exactly the side issue she’d wanted.

“A covert operation wanted my predecessor dead,” she said. “Now the same people would like to see medead…along with a lot of other people that stand in their way. The general has come here, I gather, driven by conscience–and if it’s not proper for Reseune to say how Defense should manage its internal business, I can at least say I’m in favor of protecting the independence of the Bureaus, with respect for other Bureaus’ territory andproperty, and the right of allUnion citizens, to elect a candidate in their Bureau and see that candidate liveto take office.”

That created three and four more questions, about on the level of: Are you talking about Spurlin, young sera? Then, more important, a question she wanted: Have you had any word from the Councillor for Science?

“I hopefor it,” she shot back and, seeing the good general was not accustomed to the shouted‑questions kind of news conference, which was absolutely her element, she made a gesture of invitation toward the terminal. “The Councillors are on their way down, or they’ll be in touch fairly soon. Wait and we’ll give you a news conference.” And to Awei alone, “General, there’s a private conference room, and I imagine you and your companion would appreciate a cup of coffee, at the least.”

“Coffee,” Awei said. It had become a steady march toward the terminal doors. Florian and Catlin’s presence meant questioners didn’t get that close, or press up against them: the reporters that had covered Reseune for years had long since understood that about ReseuneSec and azi bodyguards. They knew the distance, knew it to an exactitude and kept it, shoving each other rather than infringing on that imaginary line that triggered armed reaction from security.

At the doors, she called back to them almost cheerfully, and with real affection, she knew no few of them, had known them for years, “Give me about an hour. I’ll talk to you. I promise!”

It took half an hour for Council to get down to the airport–deFranco and Chavez were the first to arrive, in no more than ten minutes, if that. Ludmilla deFranco met them in the conference room, quite forth rightly shook Awei’s hand, and asked about conditions in Novgorod; Chavez started to pour himself a cup of coffee and didn’t get to carry it back to the table himself. Airport hospitality staff arrived in the room with a far more elaborate and finer coffee service than what the machine provided. They swept recyclable cups aside, poured coffee into fine china, and saw the general and the Councillors seated at the conference table with a full choice of cream, sweetener, sugar, spice, and wafers; the same for her, who sat at the far end of the table, and the same for the general’s aide, who stayed standing, but who did take a cup of coffee.

“We have order in Novgorod,” Awei had said, in answer to the former question…which might be an hour by hour situation, Ari thought, knowing the conditions that had kept Ya

Asking Awei, however, was asking a large predator for help, opened bidding for that help, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to do that at this point.

“What is your position, General,” deFranco asked, briskly stirring spice into her coffee, “since, as Councillor Corain said in his report, nothing at this point will induce the Council to seat Admiral Khalid?”

“That’s not a concern,” Awei said.

Encouraging, Ari thought, but letting the hearer fill in the blanks. She didn’t let her eyes dart, didn’t give visual cues what she thought, any more than she could help. She signaled to Catlin and said, very quietly, as Catlin moved close, “Report on the general,” and then listened to Awei and deFranco exchange several more questions.