Kinsella (Kinsella Universe Book 1) (18 page)

“That’ll be a major can of worms, right there!” Captain Gilly exclaimed.

“Yep.  So what?  We’ll take a few leaves, not many, from the EU.  A voluntary association of countries that meet certain criteria.  Do you remember how fast Eastern Europe rushed their transitions to democracy after the Wall came down, when the Europeans announced they could join the EU if they met the criteria?”

John nodded.  “And this is about off-world colonial sovereignty?”

“Yes.  Stephanie is a very clever young lady.  There will be no off-planet sovereignties tied back to Earth nations.  They’ll be tied to the ‘Federation of Democracies’ which will be extra-territorial, everywhere.”

“How does that work?”

“If Del Webb goes out into the desert near Phoenix, Arizona and builds Sun City, Sun City isn’t under Del Webb’s sovereignty.  It belongs to the US.  If the Joe Dokes Company builds a city off-planet, it won’t belong to Joe Dokes, who isn’t sovereign, it’ll belong to whatever government this Federation of Democracies recognizes on the planet.  There will be rules for forming representative governments that the Federation will recognize.  We won’t care what sort of parliament or congress gets elected, or what the structure is, so long as the legislative branches are elected, freely and fairly in monitored elections, pass all the laws, approve executive appointments and above all, control the purse strings and taxes.  Executive and judicial branch structures are optional, on the election thing, to fit the parliamentary folks.

“We provide all sorts of carrots for those who go the democratic route and sticks ranging up to quarantine for those that don’t.”

The President nodded at Stephanie.  “Professor Kinsella even included a draft constitution.  It’s two hundred and forty-five words shorter than the US Constitution and its current amendments... and about three percent of the hopeless European Union Constitution that they’ve tried three times to pass.  Tried and failed.”

John Gilly laughed, and turned to Stephanie.  “Tell me everyone is term-limited.”

“Twelve years for chief executives and senators, eight years for representatives and MPs,” Stephanie told him.

“Finestkind!”

The President looked up as his Chief of Staff returned to the room.  “The others are ready in the Cabinet Room, sir.”

“Fine, we’ll be there in a moment.”

The man turned and left.  John Gilly turned to the President.  “And the purpose for filling me in on this?”

“Because, Captain, in a moment I’ll be in the Temple of the Pharisees, smiting the heathen priests hip and thigh.  I want you to understand the subtext; the words that don’t get said... not yet anyway.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And, Captain, I expect you to roll with the punches.  Between now and when
Ad Astra
lifts off, I have a job I want you to do, and then, twice over when you get back.”

“Whatever you want, sir.  What job?”

“Oh, I think I want to surprise you,” the President told John.

Stephanie turned to John.  “I apologize, John, I thought the Skunk Works thing was your idea.”

“It was, but,” the captain nodded at the President, “someone we know ran with the idea.”

“Well, I hope you like this as much as I liked that.”

“As I recall, you weren’t that thrilled.”

Stephanie beamed and stood up.  “And as I recall, all’s well that ends well.”

John stood up as well and the President laughed.  “Don’t you know, you’re supposed to stay seated until after I leave?”

“Life is full of unexpected surprises,” Stephanie told him with a grin.  “I was six the first time my parents told me that people don’t get everything they expect.”

A few minutes later they walked into the cabinet room.  This time, they were in the right order.  Stephanie and Captain Gilly went in and stood behind their chairs, then, three or four minutes later, the President came in and everyone sat down.

“Normally I say a few words about the purpose of the meeting,” the President told those gathered.  “Today, I’m not a happy camper.  General Harrison.”

The Chief of Staff of the Air Force leaned forward.  “Sir?”

“A few moments ago I rescinded your nomination to the Senate for Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.  You sir, are relieved.  Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.  Take your two deputies and the puerile idiot you put in charge of the Space Service with you, along with any Air Force officer above the rank of major in the room.  Every last one of you stands relieved.”

General Harrison stood, unsure what had just happened.  “Sir, I’ll obey your orders, of course, but may I know why?”

“If you don’t know why, I’ll have you court-martialed for failure to command.  Tell me, General, why might I decide to cashier everyone in the Air Force chain of command of the Space Service?”

“I’m sorry about the recent failures, sir.  But space is a dangerous place.”

“And the pilots who attempted the last rescue mission.  In particular the pilot who went EVA.  How many EVAs did that officer have under his belt?”

“I have no idea.”

“Like him, you get a goose egg.  How long had that officer been in the Space Service?”

“He was one of the first Air Force pilots transferred, sir.  He was quite competent.”

“He may or may not have been a competent pilot, but he was certainly wasted, General Harrison.  He had zero EVAs.  Can you begin to explain to any of us how a man could be assigned a mission like that with no experience?  Can you explain how a man with that much time in the Space Service had no training in EVA?”

“Sir, we’re still working on procedures and policies.  We’re working as fast as we can.”

“You are a simple moron, General.  I’ve commanded squadrons; I’ve led pilots in battle.  Every man who flew with me was well trained and competent.  I planned air battles over Iraq the first time we went in.  Every one of the pilots who flew those missions had thousands of hours of training.  They flew missions they had practiced dozens to hundreds of times.

“And after nearly two years you’re telling me you haven’t figured out so much as that pilots might need to go outside their spacecraft?  Like I said, you’re incompetent.  If you don’t move your ass out the door now, I won’t care about the political fall-out for court-martialing you.  What I’ll do is offer you and your deputies up as scapegoats for all the Space Service failures to date.  And, if you’re convicted, you can kiss your pension goodbye.  Or you can get out of my sight before I lose my temper.”

The four-star general stood and without a word walked out the door, followed by a string of minions.

The President looked down the table.  “Admiral Forrester, I had also forwarded Admiral Delgado’s name for CINCPAC.  I’ve also rescinded that nomination.  Please, have him report to us as quickly as possible; I’ll resubmit his name for Chief of Space Operations as soon as I sit down at my desk.”

“Mr. President, Admiral Delgado is currently assigned to the Pentagon.  Because of the ongoing crisis in the Middle East I asked him to prepare a briefing on assets we can switch from the Pacific to the Indian Ocean.  He’s just outside, sir.”

“The next time I ask you to do something, cut the crap and just say, ‘Yes, sir!’”

The Chief of Naval Operations grimaced.  “Aye, aye, sir.  He’s on his way, sir.”

A few moments later Admiral Delgado entered the room.  Stephanie watched him carefully, wondering if he’d notice there were no longer any Air Force blue suits in the room.  Probably — he looked at the CNO and appeared to lift an eyebrow minutely.  The CNO’s reply looked like a shrug.  Stephanie wasn’t sure if the President was going to down-check the Navy’s boss for the idiotic response a few moments before or for being clueless now.

“Admiral Delgado, I’ve decided to change your orders,” the President said, getting right down to it.  “As of this moment you’re Chief of Space Operations-designate.  You’ll want to think of some names of people for your chief deputies; I’d like those names by this evening.  Tomorrow morning at the latest.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” the admiral replied.

“I want your absolute top priority to be a training syllabus and its immediate implementation.”

“Yes, sir.”

Stephanie thought it was interesting that Admiral Delgado never once looked at Captain Gilly, theretofore the highest-ranking naval officer in the Space Service.

“Mr. President, may I say a few words?” the admiral asked.

“Certainly, Admiral Delgado.”

Admiral Delgado was a short bulldog of a man, with a heavy frame that indicated he’d probably played football at some point in time.

“We’ve been doing some testing at Pearl.  The first time I saw a F-16 lift vertically off a carrier’s deck... well that was pretty exciting.  We’ve put Benko-Chang turbines on a half dozen birds, now.  We’ve been testing their flight characteristics, their ability to deliver ordinance.

“It was pointed out to me by Captain Gilly that it wouldn’t take much more modification to make those jets able to function beyond the atmosphere.  As a result I’ve ordered two more birds pulled for those modifications, plus I ordered a captain and a couple of commanders to come up with some training regimen planning.  If I can be excused shortly, I’ll use those as nucleus for the training and plans group.”

“That’s fine.  Right now, we need to discuss our options in the Middle East.  Madam Secretary,” he gestured to the Secretary of State.

“Mr. President, President Sarkozy of France assures us that the French can read maps as well as we can, and that they know that the Iranian ICBM launch was intended as a direct intimidation of France.

“We know what the French response was intended to be.  A hundred and twenty megaton thermonuclear weapon that would have detonated about a million miles from Earth, directly ‘overhead’ of Tehran at midnight on a clear night.”  She grimaced.  “It would have been many times brighter than the sun and there would have been a fair number of people with eye injuries.  We have, for the time being, talked him out of a nuclear response to a non-nuclear threat.

“To put it mildly when one nuclear-club country launches an empty ICBM in the direction of another nuclear-club country, even if it lands short, and the second country threatens to detonate a nuclear weapon in very high orbit... things are bad.  Very, very bad.  At some point in this exchange of bluff and counter-bluff someone will make a fatal miscalculation and a lot of people are going to die.  None of us want that, but on the other hand, what can we do?  Iran cannot continue to rattle its nuclear sabers.

“We have engaged our allies and selected other countries in both bilateral and multilateral talks.  Everyone is nervous and, frankly, most of the smaller states would be happy to do almost anything to get rid of the threat — anything that didn’t cost them money or rock their domestic political boats.

“At this point, sir, we need to pull a diplomatic rabbit out of the hat.”

The President turned to Stephanie.  “Professor Kinsella, what is the status of the Ad Astra Project?”

“We flew the final test flight a week ago.  The Space Service is reviewing the flight test data and expects to accept the ship in another week or so.  Then three weeks for final crew prep and loading and then the ship will launch.”

“And if the Space Service signed off tomorrow, how quickly could the ship be up?”

“Seventy-two hours later, sir.”

“So, a week from now wouldn’t be a stretch?”

“No, sir.”

The President pointed to Admiral Delgado.  “Your first official act is to do something about training.  Your second official act will be to see that the Space Service signs off on
Ad Astra
by tomorrow unless there are substantive reasons not to.  Your third official act is to review personnel files and promotions of officers assigned to the Space Service.”

“Yes, sir!” Admiral Delgado said with considerable eagerness.

“After that, give whatever support is necessary to get
Ad Astra
ready to go a week from tomorrow.”

“Yes, Mr. President!”

The man that Stephanie recognized as the Speaker of the House spoke up.  “What’s the rush, Mr. President?  It wouldn’t be good to have something happen to this ship because we rushed.”

“I will give the House and Senate leaders a separate briefing shortly, but suffice to say that I’m planning on pulling a diplomatic rabbit out of my hat.

“This is ultra top secret — which means that if it’s leaked in advance we will find the source of the leak and if it’s someone from the Executive Branch, they’ll be fired and under indictment at once.  If it’s one of you august legislators, you’ll be persona non grata at the White House for the rest of my term, and I’ll go on national TV during prime time to explain why I think the individual shouldn’t be reelected.  I will actively campaign against whoever it is, even if that person is from my party.

“And, I might add, leak if you want, but it won’t change anything.  This is going to happen.  You can either put your shoulder to the wheel, or, if so disposed, oppose me... once it’s made public.

“A few weeks after
Ad Astra
returns we will hold a conference of world leaders in Australia.  Only democratically elected governments will be invited.  The topic of discussion will be the formation of a new international group that will lay out the rules for establishing off-world colonies.