Regenesis

“We are supporting the atmospherics systems and the power grid,”the answer came back. “Fleet assets have just been destroyed or compromised. We are not providing general positional information to enable counterattacks until we have contact with Council.”

“We appreciate your position, but if you want the Council, ser, you just stay co

“Let me talk to him,”deFranco said, and she punched more buttons, and got four more Councillors. “We are sitting in shelters here,”deFranco said in some heat, “having already had one missile fired at us by a fool, and if you want a directive, ser, you’ll have it.”

“This is Harad, of State,”Councillor Harad broke in. “The directive already exists, Alpha Station, in our recent instruction to General Awei to defend the Council. Facimile transmission follows. We direct you turn on current global positional and traffic data. We’ll get you a specific directive on both orders inside five minutes if you have any doubt.”

There was a lengthy delay on the other side.

Catlin came to her desk, leaned over, com pressed firmly into her ear, and said, “Geosats are transmitting again.”

They had eyes.

That had gone all right, hadn’t it? Pity they couldn’t have been selective–but the system wasn’t set up that way Alpha could shut down satellites from transmission. But once they did transmit–anybody could use the information.

And about forty seconds later, the airport called Reseune Admin, “ We have regained image.” Likewise at the port.

The outage had lasted about thirty minutes, from the initial action at Svetlansk to the restoration of geosat transmission.

Fleet property had gotten damaged at Svetlansk, no word about perso

So had the planet immediately involved…howled, now, and there’d be some consideration of the measures Alpha Station had taken, if she had anything to say about it. There hadn’tbeen civilian planes in the air when ATC’s long vision went out, but there could have been. There hadn’t, however, been guidance for more missiles for a bit, either. So it was a toss‑up. She couldn’t say the Alpha Stationmaster had been wrong; and he couldn’t be in a comfortable position, watching his government come apart, down on the planet, and two halves of Defense starting shooting at each other. They’d gotten into it step by step; for Alpha Station, there’d been a succession of small startling shocks, mostly in the last week.

So Alpha Station had wanted it stopped. She could understand that. Maybe Khalid would be beseiging his own sources up on station, urging Fleet authorities up then to shut the geosats down again to protect his operations at Planys. And maybe Fleet would start agitating on his behalf, or even issuing threats, but Alpha was a power, too, a de facto sovereign state like Reseune Territories, and Khalid couldn’t trump a Council directive.

Hadhim, she did.

She shoved back from the console in the Admin storm tu

“Ya

Her heart leapt up. “In Novgorod?”

“No, sera. At ourport, the riverside. Rafael’s sending a bus.”

“Are we sure?” she asked.

“Yes, sera!”

She spun the chair about again, and this time punched in every Councillor they had resident. They were immediate on the answer, Harad, deFranco, Chavez, Tien, and, last, Harogo. She said, “Ya

“Finally!”Harad said, and Chavez: “About damned time.”

BOOK THREE Section 6 Chapter viii

SEPT 8, 2424

1621H

Directive control stayed in Ari’s pocket–literally–via her com, which she kept on, with Admin co

Immediately after, she headed upstairs and down the long lower hall in Admin, in close company with Florian and Catlin and two of the regular ReseuneSec perso

The Councillors, starting from storm tu

The bus at least was wasting no time…two buses, it became evident as she reached the locked doors–one bus veering off to Ed, one coming up toward them. “One is a decoy,” Florian said, and Catlin meanwhile called Rafael, signaling the physical lock to be taken off the Admin front doors and left off until she sent word they had the party inside.

Florian swung a door open. The bus came up under the portico, squealed to a hard stop, and its door flew open. Quentin exited instantly and held up his hands for Amy, who flung herself off the bus. Frank came next, with the briefcase, and held out a hand to steady Ya

“Inside,” Florian said. “Inside, quickly, ser.”

“Amy, Ya

“In a shipping container,” Ya

“You took a barge all the way up?”

“Only thing we could get to,” Amy said. “And it got stalled. We’re safe. Hid out in sealed cargo, shipped for Reseune.”

“She bought candy bars,” Ya

“We got boarded,” Amy said. “And stalled forever while they searched things. But they didn’t get down to our container.”

“We’ve got a medic downstairs,” Ari said, trying to move them on, get the whole party back down to safety. They had a whole clinic. It was part of Admin’s storm season routine, to handle decon, or anything else needful, and right now it was five water‑deprived, underweight refugees. And she wanted them moved, before a dozen reporters dug in down at the airport managed to get the news out; she started moving Amy along, her arm about her. It was, by the layout of the older buildings, a fair walk back–not to create a people‑jam near the building entry in the event of an alert; that had been the theory…but it made it a lengthy hike.

The lift had made a trip down and back, meanwhile, and brought up Mikhail Corain’s wile and two ReseuneSec officers. The lady gave a little cry and rushed to embrace her husband.