Articles Of The Federation Part 11

Toh didn't hear what Joseph said as he ran out the door toward the nearest transporter station.

Within twenty minutes-there was a line at the station, and his government ID didn't do anything to expedite matters, which rather annoyed him-he was back in his office. The first thing he did was contact Rol Yarvik Rol, who was working late on a project for Fred.

"Whatever you need, Toh, can it wait? Fred is- "

"Just a quick question, Yarvik. You've read over all of Artrin's decisions, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Was there a decision on 5 Torus Fortil?"

"There aren't any decisions in Torus, that's when they're in- "

Toh snarled. "I know that, I mean an emergency session."

"Artrin didn't preside over any emergency sessions."

"You sure?" Toh had been afraid Yarvik would say the very words he was saying now.

"Completely sure. Why?"

"Nothing." This was too big for a researcher. This is too big for me, he thought. "Is Fred still in his office?"

"He's with Ashante down at that cafe they like. He said he'd be back in an hour."

"Okay, thanks." Toh cut off the connection, took a moment to pray to the Prophets for guidance, then put a call through to Fred. He's gonna hate being interrupted like this, but he's with Ashante, and that'll save some time. And better to tell them sooner than later, especially if the council already has this.

The last time Esperanza Piniero felt this ragged was after the U.S.S. Gorkon was told to hold the Delavi system for three weeks during the Dominion War. They were at red alert the entire time, and by the end of the second week, Esperanza felt like she had run six marathons in the s.p.a.ce of two hours. Her muscles ached, her mouth tasted like engine coolant, and a phaser drill was on overload behind her right eye.

Four months in the Palais gave her a tremendous sense of deja vu for those days in the Delavi system.

Still, another day seemed to finally be at an end. The president's speech on t.i.tan had gone well. The s.h.i.+pbuilder's guild seemed mollified about Aligar-though they were expressing concern about the Rigel colonies following the directive to change over their warp drives.

She opened an intercom channel to her a.s.sistant. "Please, Zachary, by all that is holy on thirty worlds, tell me that we're done for the day."

Her office door slid open to reveal Zachary holding a padd. "Not quite. Sorry, this just came in from the travel office." He walked it over to her at her desk.

"Let me guess," Esperanza said as she took it. "They felt bad for not having screwed anything up in a few months?"

"Sort of. They had to change the president's itinerary for the goodwill trip."

Esperanza glowered at Zachary. "We spent six weeks hammering out the details of the trip. It was vetted by half the people in this building. What could they possibly want to change now?"

Zachary smiled. "It's kind of funny, actually."

At Esperanza's look, his smile fell. "Right now, Zachary, you could get the entire Luna-See Troupe up here and have them perform their whole repetoire from Again, the Ears to Zakdorn's Sun Is Going Nova Tomorrow, and it wouldn't be funny."

"Okay, well, in any case, it turns out that the original itinerary had one problem-we would be arriving on Lembatta Prime on the day before an eclipse."

The phaser drill now moved to her left eye. "What, they don't have lights on Lembatta?"

"Oh, they have lights, but, uh- " Zachary took a breath. "Whenever there's an eclipse, and also the day before and after, it's a major religious holiday. Essential work is still done, but anyone not actually doing that is obligated to stay at home and meditate."

Esperanza leaned her head back and looked to the ceiling in supplication. To her annoyance, the ceiling was wholly bereft of aid or comfort.

She looked back at her a.s.sistant. "So if we hold a town hall meeting on the day before an eclipse- "

"No one will show up."

"Wonderful. They rearranged the itinerary?"

Zachary nodded. "And that should be it."

"Good," Esperanza said with more enthusiasm than was probably politic. Knowing it was wholly futile, she still said to Zachary, "You can go home, I'm just gonna read this and then head out."

As always, he said, "I go home when you go home." Then he went back to his desk, the door sliding shut behind him.

Esperanza's eyes were glazing over as she read over the itinerary. None of it seemed untoward. Lembatta had been moved to a week later, so Ventax II would be a week earlier, Kessik IV would be at the end of the trip instead of the beginning, and Cestus III- Oh h.e.l.l.

The phaser drill was now working on both eyes.

Slamming her hand on the intercom, she said, "Zachary, who put this together?"

"The travel offi- "

"I mean who in the travel office?"

"I'm not sure."

"Are any of them in now?"

"I think Ne'al G'ullho is still- "

"Get it up here now."

Esperanza got up and went over to the replicator that was inset in her office wall. She was about to ask it for an herbal iced tea, then she decided to throw caution to the wind. Putting her hand on the activator, she said, "Jack Daniel's Single Barrel, neat, alcoholic."

If this were regular business hours, the computer would point out that Federation law prevented members of the government from drinking alcoholic beverages during working hours. Whoever pa.s.sed that law didn't realize that every hour is a working hour in the Palais.

She slugged down the amber liquid; it burned as it went down her throat, then formed a warm spot in the upper part of her chest.

Her intercom beeped. "Ne'al is here."

"Get it in here." The thick-bottom gla.s.s made a resounding thunk as she placed it on her metal desk with a bit more force than was necessary.

A young Damiani entered, its goatee untrimmed. "Yes, Ms. Piniero, what can I do for you?"

She held up the padd. "Do you know about this?"

"I don't know what this is," Ne'al said slowly.

Great, now I'm doing it, Esperanza thought with a sigh. "This is the president's updated travel itinerary for the goodwill tour."

"Oh, right. I think Mantor handled that one himself."

"Good, I know who to fire tomorrow, then."

Ne'al's teal skin started to lighten. "Uh, Ms. Piniero, I don't understand what- "

"All right," she said with a sigh, "I probably can't fire him for this. But the only way to keep him from being in the president's doghouse for the rest of his natural life is to either get him in here tonight or fix this yourself."

Now looking confused, Ne'al said, "Ms. Piniero, I'm afraid I still don't understand. The itinerary had to be changed to accommodate- "

"I know all about the Lembattans. What I have a small problem with, and what the president will have a huge problem with, is that you moved the Cestus III leg of the trip."

"Oh, that. Well, we figured since it was the president's home, it didn't matter when it was. Good thing, too, because if we kept that on the same date, it would make the rest of it d.a.m.n near impossible."

"Well, you get to do the impossible, Ne'al, because the way this itinerary runs now, the president is going to miss Opening Day."

A blank look. "Opening Day of what?"

"The baseball season on Cestus III. And before you ask another stupid question with your mouth hanging open the way it has been for this entire conversation, let me explain the basics. Baseball is a sport. It's been played professionally on Cestus III since the president was first elected governor. It's the president's favorite sport, and watching it is one of her primary leisure activities. She has also, every year since the incorporation of the CBL, thrown out the ceremonial first pitch on Opening Day at Ruth Field in Pike City. Now you are going to go back to your office, and you are going to move solar systems if you have to, but you are going to keep Cestus right where it was on the itinerary and rearrange everything else. If we have to extend the trip an extra week- "

"We can't do that." Ne'al said those words with more a.s.suredness than it had said anything else since walking into Esperanza's office. "She has to get back on the first, because that's when the Trinni/ek delegation is arriving."

d.a.m.n. Esperanza had forgotten about the Io's first contact, which had been followed by conversations over subs.p.a.ce with a diplomatic team led by a bright young amba.s.sador named Colton Morrow. A Trinni/ek team was going to visit the Palais at the beginning of May, right when the president came back from the goodwill tour.

"Fine, then do what you have to do to make it work."

Ne'al let out a long breath. "We can probably get someone from Starfleet to rig up a hologram that can do the job."

Esperanza stared in open-mouthed stupefaction. "Please tell me you were kidding."

"No, those Starfleet Corps of Engineers guys can do pretty much anything. They- "

"I don't mean kidding about being able to do it, I meant kidding about taking that seriously as a legitimate alternative to being there."

"Why not? You know how good holograms are these days-n.o.body'll know the difference."

Putting her head in her hands, Esperanza sat back down at her desk. "It doesn't matter what the audience thinks. This is something that is very important for the president to do herself. I suggest a hologram to her, I guarantee that I'll be fired inside of six seconds, and the president's known me my entire life, so I think you can figure out how fast your a.s.s'll be out the door if you ever say that out loud again."

Sounding surprised, Ne'al asked, "It's really that important?"

"It's really that important." Esperanza picked up the gla.s.s of Jack Daniel's. "A lot of this job is larger than life, Ne'al. And the president can handle that-she can handle the council snits and the press laughing at your office and Remans who approach the border without saying why-but every once in a while she needs something that's real."

"So she planned this entire goodwill tour as an excuse to go home and throw off a pitch?"

"Throw out a pitch." Esperanza made the correction without even thinking. "And don't be an idiot, of course not." She took a sip of her drink. "We did a study right after we came in here and discovered that in seven years, President Zife never once-not a single time-went and talked to ordinary citizens. He visited starbases and Starfleet outposts. He met with other politicians and other people connected to or in his government and similar people in other governments. But he never talked to the people who voted for him."

She set the drink back down, more gently this time. "When she was governor, once a month, for one whole day, the president always made sure she had town meetings. She'd just let anybody who lived on Cestus who wanted to talk to the planetary governor come in and say their peace. She'd answer questions, tell stories, share anecdotes, and listen." Esperanza shook her head. "The president's one of the best talkers I know, but on those days, she also listened better than anyone I know, and she always made sure that whoever she was listening to had her rapt attention." She looked up at Ne'al. "I asked her about it, wondered if it was maybe a waste of time to spend twelve days a year listening to this nonsense, and you know what she said? 'I spend three hundred and sixty-five days a year listening to this nonsense; on twelve of those days, I just eliminate the middle party. This is how government's supposed to work.' " Esperanza smiled. "I think that's when I decided that I had to convince her to run for president."

Ne'al stood staring at Esperanza for several seconds. Then it picked up the padd. "We'll make this work, Ms. Piniero. First thing in the morning, you'll have an itinerary."

"Thanks, Ne'al."

It nodded and departed.

Esperanza picked up the gla.s.s again and drank down the rest of her Jack Daniel's. Then she hit the intercom. "And with that, Zachary, I'm going- "

"Esperanza, Ashante and Fred are here to see you, along with Toh. They need to talk to you right away."

Closing her eyes, Esperanza said in a voice that made it sound like her throat was coated in Klingon bloodwine, "Can't this wait until morning?"

Fred answered, "It really really can't, Esperanza."

Opening her eyes back up, Esperanza said, "Fine, come in." She stared at the empty gla.s.s. I get the feeling I'm gonna need another one of these. Or three.

President Nan Bacco stood alone in the Ra-ghoratreii Room, just down the hall from her office on the fifteenth floor of the Palais. She looked up at the painting of President Ra-ghoratreii. The Efrosian was known to most Federation citizens as the president who signed the Khitomer Accords on the Federation's behalf. Previously, the room had been simply called the Red Room, after the color scheme of the walls, provided by President al-Ras.h.i.+d in the early days of the Federation. After Ra-ghoratreii served out his third and final term, his portrait was hung in the Red Room, and the s.p.a.ce was renamed (and repainted).

During the administration of President Amitra, she had converted this room to her office. She'd felt the presidential office was too ostentatious, a feeling shared by Jaresh-Inyo. However, Min Zife had felt the president should have the grandeur of the larger room, and so he'd converted this room back to a meeting room and returned to the larger room with the panoramic view.

There weren't a lot of things on which Nan agreed with her predecessor, but that larger office was one of them.

This room now had a large replicated wooden table in the center, rectangular in shape, and able to seat up to fifty people if needed. Nan had arranged for there to be only seven chairs-one at the head, three on either side. The wood on the table was meant to simulate oak, and the only thing that broke its elegance was the padd sitting in front of the head chair.

A few moments later, one of the doors opened. Nan turned away from Ra-ghoratreii's image to see Councillors T'Latrek of Vulcan, Matthew Mazibuko of Earth, and Kellerasana zh'Faila of Andor enter. They each nodded to Nan and took their seats. Soon they were followed by the last of the permanent members of the security council-Bera chim Gleer of Tellar, who did not nod, but simply took his seat, and Huang Chaoying from Alpha Centauri, who gave Nan a small bow before taking her seat.

Finally the subject of their meeting entered: Artrin na Yel of Triex. He also served on the security council. Along with the ones from the five founding worlds of the Federation, the security council also included councillors from eight other worlds. The present configuration had Cait, Damiano, Gnala, Huanni, Rigel, Sulamid, Triex, and Zakdorn as the "back eight," as it was called around the Palais.

Nan feared that Triex would be off that list by the time this meeting ended.

When Artrin took a seat between Gleer and Mazibuko, Nan sat at the head of the table. "Thank you all for coming at this late hour. I apologize for being cryptic, but it was necessary."

"Madam President," T'Latrek said, "should this meeting not be held in council chambers?"

Somehow, Nan managed to control her reaction. After the previous day's eight-hour marathon, she was in no rush to go back there, especially since she was the only one who had to stand the entire time. "It may come to that, but I want to keep the meeting informal-and off the record-for the time being. I want to tell you all something that my staff informed me of tonight, and then I want Artrin to tell his side of the story just to the six of us."

With an understandable undertone of indignance, Artrin asked, "My side of what story, exactly, ma'am?"

Nan picked up the padd. "On 5 Torus in the year of the Fortil on Triex, in an emergency session, you rendered a judgment in your capacity as SMA to imprison a Federation citizen by the name of Wusekl without a trial."

Most of the councillors looked at Artrin at that. T'Latrek, however, looked at Nan. "There is no record of Councillor Artrin rendering any judgments in emergency sessions during his time as Supreme Magisterial Authority."

"Public record, no," Nan said.

Artrin spoke up more readily than Nan had been expecting. "The emergency session was cla.s.sified. The year of the Fortil was eight years ago. It was shortly after the explosion at the Antwerp Conference and the declaration of martial law on Earth."

"During the height of paranoia over changeling infiltration," Matthew said.