Buried Deep Part 39

"Months?" Weiss looked at Flint. "You said nothing about months."

"I didn't know," Flint said. "I told you I am not familiar with the ritual. However, my invitation still stands."

"Invitation?" The Disty asked.

"I told them that if they changed their minds, I would take them back to the Moon."

The Disty s.h.i.+fted all around him. Flint could feel their agitation as if it were a real, living thing.

Flint's skin crawled. He tried not to look at the knives.

"You do not have the authority," the lead Disty said.

"Yes, I do," Flint said. "They volunteered. They're here because they want to be, not because they're being forced. They have the right to change their minds."

All of the Disty faced the six survivors. Weiss looked over his shoulder at the others. Vajra shrugged. Marcos looked down, but the others did not move.

Finally, the lead Disty reached out with its long fingers and took Weiss's hand, shaking it awkwardly. "We appreciate your gesture. We are not used to kindness. We shall not take advantage of it, and we shall compensate you for your time."

"We'll be away from our families." The blue-haired woman, McEvoy, sounded frightened.

"We are aware of that," the Disty said. "Perhaps we can find a solution that will satisfy us all. If you will come with me, we can negotiate your terms. But we may not do so in front of your pilot, since he will not be part of the rituals."

"We won't leave this s.h.i.+p until we've made a decision." Weiss hadn't let go of the Disty's hand.

"Agreed. Perhaps we can speak in private here?" The Disty looked at Flint.

"Sure," he said. "But before I go, what about Norton? He's the seventh."

"He is a criminal. We have no use for him."

"You might," Flint said. "I think he's the one who placed the skeleton on top of the ma.s.sacre site."

"The killer?" Another Disty asked that.

"Of the single human woman, yes," Flint said. "He had nothing to do with the ma.s.sacre."

"Then that is different," the lead Disty said. "We have a use for him after all."

"I should bring him for the negotiation, then," Flint said.

"Whatever we decide, we'll hold him to it," Weiss said.

"We do not need to negotiate with criminals," the Disty said. "Our use for him will be different."

"How different?" Flint asked. "He's injured. I'm not sure he's up for something strenuous."

"We shall discuss this after we have finished here. Have him ready," the Disty said.

Weiss frowned at Flint ever so slightly. Flint shrugged. Then he backed out of the room and headed toward the main cabin. He used his internal links to monitor the conversation, although he did not listen closely.

He didn't want to know the rituals. He wanted to remain as uninvolved as possible.

But he did want to hear if anything went wrong.

64.

"You have to be kidding," DeRicci said. "In no way am I sitting down with that bloodsucking reporter.

She makes up lies."

The governor-general folded her hands together. She sat at DeRicci's desk as if it were her own.

DeRicci was getting tired of having the woman around. Couldn't she co-opt someone else's office? "I think you should consider it," the governor-general said. "The damage to your reputation has been severe. You could mitigate it, while the public thinks the crisis is still going on."

DeRicci glanced at the wall screens. All the public saw were the Disty s.h.i.+ps outside the perimeter.

Already, representatives for Armstrong's Disty community had contacted Mayor Soseki, worried about DeRicci. Soseki rea.s.sured them that DeRicci had nothing to do with the crisis, and that everything was under control.

Still, DeRicci didn't like how this was heading.

"So, I sit down with that woman, and she then asks under what authority I closed all the ports on the Moon. How do I answer?"

The governor-general frowned. "That could be an issue."

"No kidding." DeRicci refused to sit in one of the clear chairs scattered around the room. That was her desk, her chair, and this was her office. She didn't have to act like someone subordinate. "I suppose," the governor-general said, "you tell Ms. Bowles that someone had to act to save lives, and you did so."

" 'At the expense of so many Disty lives?'" DeRicci mimicked Bowles. "I think this is a terrible idea." "Yes, you already said that. But you'll have to get used to the media. Dealing with it is part of your job." DeRicci paced toward the windows. The streets were filling up with Disty, many of whom had come to file complaints against her.

"You told me when you asked me to take this job that I could control how I talked to the media,"

DeRicci said. "Press releases, controlled press conferences, short meetings. You didn't say a thing about one-on-ones."

"I didn't expect a crisis so soon," the governor-general said. "I also didn't expect such bad publicity about you. Is it true that you tried to thwart the Disty when you were a police officer?" DeRicci didn't turn. She just clenched her fists, made herself take several deep breaths, and then said, as calmly as she could, "Every police officer has a moment of disillusionment when dealing with alien laws.

The cops have to do awful things-like giving up little boys, knowing that they're going to get their tongues cut out, and they're going to be denied healing treatment for the rest of their lives. Yeah, I had trouble with that. Find me someone who wouldn't."

The governor-general sighed. "So that story's true."

"It's an ugly fact of law enforcement. So what?" DeRicci did turn this time.

The governor-general was studying her hands. "Did you deny the Disty entry because you hate them?" "You already asked me that, and I said no. I meant no. I denied them entry because we were about to get overrun. You heard the rituals, you saw what happened to Wells, you knew the risks. How can you ask me that again?"

"Because." The governor-general raised her head. "This issue will dog you for the rest of your political career."

"I made the best decision for the Moon," DeRicci said. "I saved saved the port cities. You know that." "I know it," the governor-general said. "But unfortunately, with your history, it won't sound that way the port cities. You know that." "I know it," the governor-general said. "But unfortunately, with your history, it won't sound that way when the media gets through with it."

"My history?" DeRicci raised her voice. "I saved Armstrong from a killing virus. I've worked hard for this city and this place. I was a good cop, a better detective, and I make great decisions on the fly. You would have been afraid to close down the ports. I just did it."

She probably shouldn't have said that last bit. Her cheeks warmed, but she didn't take the words back. The governor-general's gaze met hers. The governor-general's dark eyes seemed empty, almost as if she had coated them to hide any emotion.

"You're right, Noelle. I would have made the wrong choice. And we would have had a crisis. You stopped the crisis, and for that we're all grateful." She swept a hand toward the screens. "I'm already getting reports of s.h.i.+ps turning back. Mars is accepting the contaminated Disty, so long as they land near Lowell. We're not going to have any more trouble here."

DeRicci was breathing shallowly. The governor-general didn't sound approving.

"But," the governor-general said, "you made that hasty decision-that correct decision-without political thought. You didn't ease the transition, nor did you make any kind of statement about it. You simply ordered it."

"I didn't have time for anything else," DeRicci said.

"There's always time," the governor-general said.

DeRicci shook her head.

The governor-general stood. She pushed DeRicci's chair under the desk, then tidied up the desk's surface. "And we took citizens from their homes without their permission."

"Not all of them. They had a choice. Five decided not to go. Besides, that was local police." "Under someone's orders." The governor-general moved one of the plants to the edge the desk. "You're going to blame all the problems with this on me, aren't you?" DeRicci asked. "If you can think of a clean way to tell all of this to Ki Bowles, maybe you'll come out of this just fine.

People like you. And I think they like how decisive you are."

The heat in DeRicci's cheeks grew worse. "You want me to talk to Ki Bowles because you know how bad I am with the media. You want me to look like a d.a.m.n fool, so that you can really blame all of this on me."

The governor-general gave her a sideways look. DeRicci guessed that the look was meant to be soothing, but it wasn't. "You can handle yourself just fine, Noelle."

"You bet I can, Celia," DeRicci said, mimicking the governor-general's patronizing tone. "Especially considering the fact that you've been in my office all afternoon, helping me make every single one of the decisions, and telling me that you would handle the media when the time was right."

The governor-general stepped around the desk and stopped in front of DeRicci. DeRicci had several inches on her, but for the first time, was not intimidated in her presence. "You wouldn't dare," the governor-general said.

"I'm not getting fired for doing something right," DeRicci said. "And if I have to go down, I'll take everyone with me-you, the chicken councilors who wouldn't make a decision, and Armstrong's wimpy little mayor, as well as the heads of the police forces in all the Domed cities where the Sahara Dome survivors were. I may not be politic, but I do know how to speak my mind, and I can make anything sound bad if I have to."

The governor-general was silent. Then she stepped away from DeRicci and leaned on the desktop she'd straightened a moment before.

"It would be easier if you just resigned," she said calmly. "Then we could let the scandal float by, and this office would get the strength it needs. I think this situation proves that we need a Moon-wide security chief. I'm just not sure you're the person for the job."

"I'm exactly the person," DeRicci said. "You need someone decisive and nonpolitical. Otherwise, we'd have been in the same situation as Mars, and all those deaths would have been your fault." The governor-general closed her eyes. She obviously didn't want to hear this.

"And," DeRicci said, moving close enough to get the governor-general to open her eyes in alarm, "if you force me to resign to avoid a scandal, I'll be happy to tell everyone how indecisive you were, and how awful the council was, and how no one would help me."

"I don't like threats," the governor-general said.

"Neither do I," said DeRicci. "I also don't like martyring myself for no good cause. If I step down to avoid your scandal, my life will be ruined. I'd probably have to leave Armstrong. I might even have to leave the Moon. You're not doing that to me, Celia. You're working with me, whether you like it or not." "But you're not political," the governor-general said.

"Then come to the interview with me," DeRicci said. "Answer most of the questions. Be the political one, and protect me from my worst instincts. Let me talk about my past, and let the people decide." "Do you realize what kind of risk that is?" The governor-general's voice actually shook. DeRicci stared at her. The governor-general seemed even smaller than she had a moment ago. "Yeah," DeRicci said. "I know the risk. It's a risk to your political career, that's all. And considering the risks I faced today-the risk of being overwhelmed by panicked Disty, the risk of hundreds, maybe thousands of deaths-I think the risk we would take talking to Ki Bowles is pretty small." The governor-general bent her head. Then she shook it.

"You say you're not political," the governor-general said softly, almost to herself, "and yet you've boxed me in."

"So," DeRicci said, "we're facing this together?"

The governor-general stood. "It seems I have no other choice."

65.

Two hours later, the Disty and the Sahara Dome survivors came to an agreement. Flint was proud of the survivors. Because they knew the Disty needed them, the survivors took control of the situation entirely. They got the Disty to agree to payments, days off, and a duration for the ritual help.

Weiss and Vajra proved able negotiators. They even got the Disty to contact the High Command and lock the agreement in stone. Flint was impressed with the structure they placed on the entire affair-a structure no one else had thought to impose.

When the negotiations were finished, Weiss, Vajra, and the others went with nine of the Disty to the Disty vessel. Only the lead Disty remained. The others had gone through the airlock before the lead Disty asked Flint to take it to Norton.

When they arrived at the brig, they found Norton sitting up. His clumsily bandaged shoulder looked like it hurt him, but his color was still good.

"From one prison to another," he said when he saw the Disty.

"It is not that simple," the Disty said.

"I don't want to go to Mars. I've been back too many times. I hate it."

"You will not have to go to the surface," the Disty said. "I need one small thing from you."

Flint looked at it with surprise. He had thought the Disty was going to take Norton to the s.h.i.+p. "What would that be?" Flint asked.

"Just a bit of blood to clean the site." The Disty reached into the pocket of its black cloak and removed a small vial. "If you can, tell us where you killed the woman so that we might reclaim that s.p.a.ce as well."

Norton looked from the Disty to Flint. "What did you tell this thing?"

"I told him what you told me," Flint said. "That's why you're not going to the surface. The Disty don't want to be responsible for a criminal."

Norton frowned. "I told you that to scare you."

"Apparently," Flint said, "it scared them."

"Time is short," the Disty said. "Will you release the criminal so that I might take the blood?"

Norton scrunched backward on the cot, getting as close to the wall as he could. "I'm not volunteering for anything."

"You do not have to volunteer," the Disty said.

"I'm ill. Taking blood could hurt me."