Excelsior (48 page)

That meant that this shore leave could be permanent if they wanted it to.

Alexander wanted nothing more than to get the hell out. He and McAdams had plans to go settle down in a sleepy little town that would never become a target for terrorists. There they planned to bury their heads in the sand and pretend like this hard-won peace wasn’t just the start of another type of war.

Alexander sighed, watching as the Lincoln’s rear airlock made a successful connection to Freedom Station’s forward airlock, and gravity resumed it’s normal course.

“That’s it, everyone!” he announced. “We’re home.”

A few of the crew cheered and clapped their hands. Everyone unbuckled and went back to their quarters first to make sure they had all of their things together. They already had their bags packed, so it didn’t take long. On his way out, Alexander bumped into McAdams, and she greeted him with a kiss.

He glanced around, noticing that Lieutenants Stone and Ryder had seen them. “That’s an unusual way to salute your captain,” Alexander said.

McAdams smiled wryly at him. “I had another greeting in mind, but it’ll have to wait for a more private setting.”

Ryder walked by without comment. Alexander watched him curiously, thinking that it was unusual for him to pass up an opening like that. He was going to need a lot of therapy to get over his survivor’s guilt. He’d lost his entire squadron.

Alexander turned back to McAdams with a grim smile. “Technically we’re still on duty, but remind me about that greeting once we’re dirtside.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, saluting and winking at him as she turned to leave.

He watched her go, his smile more genuine now. A welcome warmth began seeping through him, and he hurried to catch up.

*

“Let me be the first to welcome you and your crew back to Earth, Captain de Leon,” President Baker said, reaching out to shake Alexander’s hand with both of his. Alexander tried to thank the president, but the deafening report of Anchor Station’s saluting guns drowned him out. Then came the steady thunder of applause from several platoons of naval officers—admirals, captains, commanders, and lieutenants—all of them in full dress uniforms, standing in formation to one side of Anchor Station’s flight deck.

To the other side, standing behind a navy blue velvet rope, was a screaming crowd of reporters, their holo cameras filming and snapping holograms. The spotlights and flashes blinded Alexander in the dim light of dusk.

The president turned to face the press while still gripping Alexander’s hand. Alexander took that as his cue to smile for the cameras, all the while his mind raced, trying to come up with an explanation for all the pomp and ceremony surrounding his return to Earth. Why was everyone suddenly so interested in him?

After a moment, the president let go of his hand and gestured for him and the rest of his crew to follow him below decks. The press screamed questions at them as they went, drowning each other out for the chance of even a brief reply. Despite the chaos, Alexander did manage to catch a few of the reporters’ questions—“Captain de Leon, what made you stand up to Fleet Admiral Wilson? Did you know he wasn’t planning to honor the surrender?”

The president’s security detail shadowed them down the stairwell from the upper deck of Anchor Station. At the bottom of the stairs they continued on, winding along narrow corridors. After a few minutes of that, the president stopped outside a particular door and asked Alexander and Carter to join him inside. Two of the president’s security detail broke away from the group and took up positions to either side of the door. Alexander traded looks with his XO, and then glanced back at the rest of his bridge crew.

“They’ll be debriefed separately,” the president explained.

Alexander nodded. “Lead the way, sir.”

Once they were inside, the president directed them to sit in one of the couches, while he went to sit in an arm chair facing them. The room was some type of office, utilitarian, but neat—gray metal walls, beveled metal floors, and a thin brown rug. The couches and chair were old and upholstered in cracked and creased brown vinyl.

Alexander’s gaze found the president’s, and his brow furrowed in question. Why was the president debriefing them personally, and why was he the only one there for the debriefing?

“Captain de Leon,” President Baker said slowly. “You’re something of a novelty here on Earth. A warrior with a conscience. Do you know what that makes you?”

Alexander shook his head.

“It makes you a hero. I’ve got you lined up for at least a dozen different medals and awards. But besides that, there’s a big promotion waiting for you.”

“I’m not sure I understand, sir.”

“You stood up to Admiral Wilson. Not once, but twice. You argued to save the Confederate Colonists, and then you refused to attack the Confederate Fleet after they surrendered.”

Alexander shook his head. “The Confederacy was hiding missiles behind their colony ships. If I had gotten my way and we had spared them, we would have taken heavy casualties.”

The president frowned and considered that for a long moment. “There are no easy decisions in war, Captain, but Admiral Wilson went a step too far when he turned on the Confederate Fleet after their surrender. They could have been tried for war crimes, and we could have blamed the deaths of all those colonists on them.

“Instead, they’ve become martyrs. I was in the process of negotiating the Confederacy’s surrender when Chancellor Wang Ping learned of the betrayal. He subsequently ordered all branches of his military to dig in and resist capture at all costs because they could expect no mercy from us. Their people are burning our flags and calling us the great evil. Does that sound like they’ll be welcoming us with open arms?”

Alexander shook his head.

“We have to prove to them that Admiral Wilson’s actions were not sanctioned by our government. He’s going to be stripped of rank and publicly tried for crimes against humanity and breach of military law. In fact, he was arrested days ago already, long before he reached Earth.”

Alexander caught Max nodding along with that, as if he already knew of those developments.

“I understand, sir,” Alexander replied. “But what does any of that have to do with me?”

“It has everything to do with you. We need you to be the poster child for the Alliance’s moral character. You have to be a foil for Admiral Wilson and prove that we are not all the same. Prove that we aren’t evil.”

“You need me to run a PR campaign to spruce up our image.”

“Exactly! Commander Carter will use his experience to help you run that campaign.”

Alexander saw Max nodding along again, as if he and the president had rehearsed all of this ahead of time. Switching his focus back to the president, Alexander waited for him to go on.

“In addition to Commander Carter, you’ll have a whole team of publicists and public relations managers to guide you. You do understand what we’re trying to accomplish here, and what’s at stake? We’re talking about the difference between a peaceful transition of power versus another hundred years of war with an enemy that we can’t even find.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Good. The job comes with a promotion from Captain to Vice Admiral. We’re going to hold you up high and push Wilson down low. Hopefully, that will make enough of a statement to repair some of the damage he did.”

Alexander pursed his lips, considering the offer. He’d already served his country. He’d done his time. When was he ever going to have a chance to live his life?

“Mr. President, grateful as I am for your offer, I’m going to have to decline. I’ve been in the navy for too long already, and if I don’t settle down soon, I might never get another chance. I already lost my wife thanks to these past two years of extra service.” Alexander shook his head. “It’s just too much to ask.”

“I see. You won’t do it for your country then.”

“I’ve already done a lot for my country, sir.”

“Agreed, but before you turn down my offer, you might like to know that your wife isn’t dead.”

“I already know that, sir, but she moved on. I’m happy for her, but not so happy for myself—if you know what I mean.”

“Oh. Well, I can’t pretend to understand all of what went on between you two, but I was simply referring to the fact that technically she’s still missing. Until we find bodies we can’t be sure that—”

“Wait—sorry—what do you mean she’s missing? I received a message from her when we returned from Wonderland. She was living outside Sacramento.”

The president shook his head. “That was over six months ago. She joined the colony fleet, Captain. During the fighting her shuttle was damaged and forced to make an emergency water landing in enemy territory. We confirmed that they landed safely via their emergency beacon, but she and the other colonists from that shuttle are all still missing.”

Alexander felt his entire body grow cold. He shook his head slowly. “Why would she join the colony fleet?”

The president shrugged. “Maybe she didn’t think Earth was safe. Lots of people signed up. It wasn’t hard to fill the shuttles.”

“You filled them with a lie. You never planned to colonize Wonderland.”

“Is that what you think?” the president asked, clearly taken aback. “I’m not sure who told you that, but you’re mistaken.”

“Then why was the colony fleet armed? They’re warships, not transports.”

“They’re both. The Confederacy was sending a fleet, too, so we had to ensure that ours would be able to defend itself once it reached Wonderland.”

Alexander frowned.

“Listen, I understand you’re angry that your wife was placed in danger, but she knew what she was getting herself into, and the important thing is that she might still be alive. If you agree to help us, I will allocate more resources to finding the colonists. You can even join the search. In fact, I bet there’s some type of angle there that will play well with the rest of our PR campaign.”

“That’s blackmail,” Alexander growled.

“No, it’s an incentive. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. What do you say?”

Alexander gritted his teeth. What could he say? Caty might have moved on, but that didn’t mean he’d magically stopped caring for her. The thought of her falling into enemy hands…

“With your wife missing in Confederate territory, and possibly captured already, it could help her immeasurably if you can improve our image and defuse the enemy’s negative feelings toward us.”

“I want to be in charge of the search.”

“Done.”

“And I want an entire fleet at my disposal.”

The president hesitated briefly, but then he nodded. “I suppose an admiral should have a fleet. I assume you mean a wet fleet.”

“Yes, and I’m only going to renew my commission for another six months, or until my wife is found, if six months isn’t enough time.”

“Agreed. You drive a hard bargain, Captain de Leon,” the president said, standing up and extending his hand for shaking.

Alexander pushed off the couch and accepted the handshake. He intentionally crushed the president’s hand in his, and Baker gave him a strained smile, pretending not to notice.

Commander Carter joined them in standing. “I guess we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other, Capt—I mean Admiral de Leon. As your PR manager we’re going to have to work very closely to defuse the ongoing media crisis.”

Alexander turned from shaking the president’s hand to regard Carter with a thin smile. “I can’t wait.”

 

Chapter 48

Fleet Admiral John Wilson sat on a springy cot, glaring at the bare metal walls of his cell. Politics had ruined his career—no, his entire life. President Baker was a hypocrite. If he thinks he’s going to get away with burning me in a witch hunt, he has another thing coming. Wilson knew too much, and he was nothing if not shrewd. He’d known something like this might be coming, and he’d taken the necessary precautions.

Wilson heard a thunk issue from the door, the sound of locking bolts sliding away. He had a visitor. Either that, or he was being moved from one cell to another. The brig on Anchor Station was a temporary holding area. They had to move him someplace more public if they wanted to try him for crimes against humanity.