“They’re claiming that the Republic has been forcing certain black Taran businesses to sell to larger multis, using regulatory policies…as inducements…”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Van said. “On and off, that’s been a problem for years on Sulyn. I’d thought that it had gotten better—until I was retired, and one of the mediacasters I grew up with suggested that things had recently taken a turn back.” After a moment, he asked, “You’re being asked to deny it? Come up with statistics and reports, and it’s getting hard to do?”
Emily nodded. “There are all sorts of statements, but Alaster—he’s the second secretary—can’t find any real numbers that support them, and we’re getting hit with charges that claim we can’t. The numbers we’re getting from New Oisin don’t track with the older series, and that’s giving us both headaches.”
Van nodded. “That makes it tough.”
“And I’m supposed to have the text of another release ready by four o’clock for the ambassador to review this evening.”
“Maybe I’d better go…I wouldn’t want to have you thinking of me as the reason something didn’t get done.” Van didn’t want to leave, not since it had been so long since he’d seen her, but he also didn’t want to leave her blaming him for any trouble she might get into for missing a deadline. He just looked at her for a long minute, slightly disheveled. He was glad he’d come. He could always sightsee before he met Desoll.
“I can take a few more minutes. It’s mostly done.” She grinned. “Besides, you’re from Sulyn, and I can always say that I was getting a historical perspective.” The grin vanished. “How did it happen? Sulyn becoming part of the Republic, that is?”
“All the alternatives were worse, and the Republic made a lot of concessions in the early days. I think the politicians on Tara have regretted it ever since, and it’s been a cause of friction for generations.”
“What sort of concessions?”
“There’s an outright prohibition on media censorship. Local multi tax levels are capped, and the rates are lower, which means that there are smaller revenues per capita from Sulyn. Same-gender unions have equal legal preference and status, and that kind of discrimination is subject to stiff penalties. Independent justiciary…Those sorts of things.”
Emily was frowning. “With that background, it’s hard to make a case for martial law.”
“Martial law?”
“The RSF sent in a domestic peacekeeping unit, but there aren’t any reports of trouble. Not yet.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” Van frowned. “I don’t see why the RSF would be involved. Historically, all the protests in Sulyn have been of the peaceful, civil-disobedience type, not armed riots or that sort of thing…”
“I don’t know why the RSF is there.” A rueful smile appeared. “I do know that you just made my job harder.”
“That seems to be something I’ve been good at.” Van decided not to press for more information, since it was clear Emily had told him close to all she knew.
“Oh…you sound like Sean.”
“Sean had something…”
From there, the conversation drifted into summaries of what had happened to the senior staffers from Scandya.
Abruptly, Emily looked up.
“I can tell I’d better leave,” Van said, “or you’ll be facing the ambassador’s wrath, or that of the first secretary.”
“Can’t you…couldn’t we have dinner?”
“I wish we could,” Van said, “but by dinnertime, we’ll be headed out-system. Like you, I’m not the one in charge.” He stood.
So did Emily, almost reluctantly, it seemed to Van.
“I’m so glad you did come.”
“So am I.” He grinned. “But you’d better get back to that release, or you won’t be.”
Emily made a gesture as if to brush off his words, even as she nodded.
When Van left the embassy, he was well aware that the same Marine was watching him closely, although the corporal made no move toward him.
Van barely made it to the shuttle terminal by sixteen hundred, but he was there five minutes before Desoll. That just gave him more time to worry about what was happening on Sulyn, but he could find nothing on the pubcomm channels, not beyond what Emily had told him.
By eighteen hundred local, they were back in the Elsin, preparing to delock from Meroe orbit station. Desoll seemed so rushed that Van didn’t bring up the matter of seeing Emily, not under the circumstances. He wished he’d had more time to talk with her.
“Normally, we’d spend more time here,” Desoll explained, “but we do have an urgent deliverable on Keshmara, and the urgent ones are what keep IIS going financially.”
“Do we know what?” probed Van from the cockpit’s second couch.
“No. I’ll tell you more once we’re clear.” You have the conn.
I have the conn, ser.
Meroe orbit control, Coalition ship Elsin, ready for delocking and departure.
Wait one, Elsin. Maintenance tug at your two-twenty. Clear to break power links, but hold at lock.
Holding at lock, control. Have tug on screens. Van pulsed Eri on the shipnet. Eri, we’re going to null gee.
Thank you, ser, came back over the shipnet.
After cutting the power link to the station and dropping the ship grav to nil, Van checked the screens, and the fusactor run-up again, still half-amazed at both the ship and the control provided by his enhanced implant. No wonder no one wanted to fight the Coalition Service pilots.
Coalition ship Elsin, cleared for delocking. Incoming traffic, red zone, approximately one emkay.
Elsin clearing lock charlie two this time. Have traffic on screens. Will stay green until clear. Van used just a touch on the side steering thrusters, then another touch on the main thrusters.
Elsin, cleared for low-power departure.
Stet, control. Departing this time.
As he eased the Elsin away from the orbit control station, Van checked the systemwide EDI, noting the various drive emissions. A Revenant courier was decelerating toward Meroe orbit control, while three Kushite light cruisers were patrolling beyond the comet belt, each patrol sector looking to be roughly a third of the system. There were two Coalition fast couriers, one locked on the other side of orbit control from where the Elsin had been, and the other seemingly
