Fire with Fire

Chapter Twenty-Four

ODYSSEUS

Nolan, Caine, and Downing emerged into a stiff breeze. Nolan squinted up the slope, leaned into the ascent. “You have a knack for this, you know.”

Caine looked at him. “I beg your pardon?”

“You asked me not to be coy, yesterday. Now I’ll ask the same of you. You’re good at this, and people saw it. You’re going to be on a lot of watch lists.”

Downing smiled ruefully from Caine’s other side. “You’re caught well and good, and only yourself to blame.”

“Thanks.”

A light tread behind them: Downing turned, veered away from Caine. Ching nodded his appreciation as he stepped into the vacated space. They walked on. And on. Then:

“Mr. Riordan, I hope when you are speaking to the media that you will not include any political speculations.”

“Why? Are you afraid I will reveal what was said here?”

“No: I fear that you will reveal what was not said here.” Caine turned toward Ching-who looked him full in the face. And smiled: it was possibly an invitation to further acquaintance; it was definitely a sign of respect. “Mr. Riordan, you have much skill at a diplomatic table for one so young and so unaccustomed to it. But I saw your eyes when I offered my closing comments. You understood. You know.”

Nolan’s voice came from the other side: the tone was casual, pitched so as not to attract notice as Demirel passed them. “Nothing to worry about; Caine knows how to keep a secret.”

Walking between these two men, calmly discussing undisclosed manipulations of the global power structure, left Caine with a feeling of greater otherworldliness than anything he had experienced on Dee Pee Three. “So I’m right: the Commonwealth has assured the Developing World Coalition that it-in the shape of you, Mr. Ching-is going to be source of the first Proconsul.”

The silence indicated assent.

Caine uttered the insight as it arose. “And since the DWC was given the first slot, that implies that there had to be some kind of arrangement regarding the subsequent slots.” He paused, checked the almost identical smiles flanking him, one on Nolan’s face, one on Ching’s.

“Let me guess: since China is first, Russia insisted upon the second slot. That provides Moscow the opportunity to immediately correct any ‘imbalanced’ decisions arising from Beijing. And, since Beijing anticipates this, it will wish to preemptively cultivate a reputation for evenhandedness, and so will pursue a more temperate course, anyway. Which will in turn encourage the Russians to be more temperate when their turn comes.”

Ching’s smile was broader. “He has promise.”

Nolan shrugged. “He learns quickly, I have to admit.”

Undaunted by their needling, Caine unfolded the rest. “Next will be TOCIO. Japan needs the political clout that will come from an early Proconsul slot in order to stabilize their bloc and fend off CoDevCo’s attempts to poach from their membership.”

“And then? The order of the last two?” Nolan’s tone was amused, as if he were testing a pupil who had no chance of failing the exam.

“Europe, then the Commonwealth.”

“Why?”

“Because Europe is the best bloc for stabilizing the Confederation. After the other blocs have each had their two years in the big seat, the Europeans will be the ones most able to come in and build a durable equilibrium.”

“And the Commonwealth is forced to wait until last.”

Caine looked at Nolan, then at Ching, whose eyes were still friendly, but also incisive, almost challenging. Caine looked back at Nolan, unsure whether he should-

“Go ahead; say it. Mr. Ching knows.”

Caine shrugged. “No: the Commonwealth wants to be last. Needs to be. It has the most advanced space program, the best position in terms of interstellar expansion, military capability. If it took an early leadership position, the other nations would balk, might feel that they had become satrapies of the Commonwealth. And-”

“It’s okay; don’t stop.”

“And it makes it possible for the Commonwealth-and particularly the US-to let the other nations and blocs take the heat for any mistakes or inequities that persist through the early years. America has been resented for its inordinate wealth and power for so long that, if it started in a leadership position, there would be a reflex to blame any problems in the Confederation upon the US.”

Nolan looked over at Ching, eyebrows raised-but both were surprised when Caine pressed on.

“But there’s another advantage.”

The gait of the two older men slowed. They thought the list was done. Maybe they haven’t seen it, since they are so focused on the political maneuvering.

“Which is?” Ching sounded mystified, enthralled.

“Optimal timing for logistical benefit.”

Silence. Gravel ground and snapped under their shoes.

It was Nolan who took the bait. “What?”

Caine smiled at the two of them. “The US is still the leader in defense and aerospace technology. In some ways, it has too great a lead. Unless the US wants to bear the brunt of a potential interstellar war all by itself, it needs a greater diffusion of higher technological capabilities throughout the globe. Right now, there’s a good amount of that from the Federation and the Union, but-with all due respect, Mr. Ching-”

“No, you are quite right. Continue.”

“The largest populations, and therefore production potentials, are in the TOCIO and DWC blocs. If their general technological level can be upgraded in the first eight years, they can become integral participants in a truly global effort to establish an interstellar buffer zone. And, after eight years, those nations might be ready to follow the Commonwealth’s leadership in the energetic business of rapid expansion-which is, let’s be honest, a particularly strong trait among the nations of our bloc.”

Nolan’s smile was surprised, a little baffled. Did I just give away some of his deeper game? Well, if I did, he should have stopped me…

Ching was staring at Caine as though he was a rare antiquity that had turned up in his soup bowl. “Fascinating. And astute.” He smiled at the Sun, now accelerating in its plunge toward the horizon. “This is a day of much change.” They had arrived at the buffet tables-olives, wine, a few white-coated attendants-and he turned to Caine. “Perhaps you will advise me on the wines, Mr. Riordan? I seldom partake.”

Caine shrugged, stole a fast sideways look at Nolan, who did not return his glance, but was smiling into the Sun himself. Eyes back upon Ching’s, Caine gestured to the tables. “I’ll try, but I’m not sure I’m any more of a connoisseur than you are, Mr. Ching.”

He reached down, picked up a bottle, tilted it toward a glass-

CIRCE

He reached down, picked up the binoculars, tilted them to snap into the short tripod. He swung them around to aim up at the end of the Sounion headland, leaned over to check the view: the columns of the Temple of Poseidon were slightly off center to the left. He tapped the front right lens rim slightly, looked in: centered.

He looked to his right: the false olive container was open, most of the sharp, acidic fumes carried away from him by the prevailing winds running in from the Aegean.

MENTOR

The breeze from the Aegean tore the cocktail napkin out of Downing’s hand. “High winds,” he commented, then looked back at the milling delegates. “And we’ll soon be heading into others, I wager.”

Nolan kept looking out to sea. “It can’t be ‘we’ any more, Rich: you’ll have to steer the ship on your own from here on. We’ve got to make IRIS your organization now.”

“Rubbish. Nolan, you are not so old that-”

“Richard.”

Downing stopped: Nolan had used his proper name.

“Richard,” Nolan repeated, “it’s not just a matter of age. It’s a matter of policy. Caine isn’t the only one who’s going to be watched, now. For the last twenty years, I’ve operated under the media radar, but here at Parthenon I was running a public show, approved by the leadership of all five blocs. How do you rate my public profile now?”

Downing looked out to sea, felt a sad, cold knot coalesce in his stomach. “You’re through. You’re a newsmaker, so they’re going to watch you.” It was going to be lonely without Nolan…but then there was a deeper reflex: you don’t want to be in charge. You are a good XO-but not a CO. Good God, how will I do this? He took a long drink of his wine to drown the anxiety. “So what now?”

Nolan smiled. “Now, I eat an olive.”

“Hilarious. And then?”

“Then I eat another olive. And I take a vacation: a long one.”

“With Pat?”

“Yeah, and the kids too. Particularly Trev.”

Downing felt Nolan’s pause, looked over, saw a pair of blue eyes that were suddenly old, tired, and very serious. “Richard, there’s something I need to tell you, something I-”

“Admiral Corcoran-”

Ching. Bloody hell.

“Mr. Riordan seems to have good instincts for wine, as well.”

Nolan looked at the returned pair. “I’m not surprised.”

“And, Mr. Downing: which wine did you select?”

Downing turned toward Ching, smiled as a prelude to his response, peripherally saw Nolan take Caine’s upper arm and steer him gently for a walk down toward the oceanside peristyle.

Damn it, Nolan, what were you going to tell me? You’ve got to-

But Ching was waiting and watching. Downing widened his smile and prepared to feign interest in their impending conversation.

CIRCE

He put his hand in his pocket, pulled out a small, featureless black cube, six centimeters per side. He rested the box on the weather wall to the left of the binoculars and stared at it for a moment. Then he brushed his finger over the side that was facing him.

The side of the cube shivered slightly and fell open, as if hinged at the bottom. The man’s nose pinched as a carrion-scented musk diffused into the air around him. Then slowly, deliberately, he inserted his left index and middle fingers into the box.

A moment later he grimaced. Then he breathed out slowly, as if following a yogic discipline, and lowered his eyes back to the lenses. With the temple now centered in his field of vision, he started counting across the columns…