Ambassador 12 Read online

  AMBASSADOR 12: THE UNFOLDING ARMY

  PATTY JANSEN

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  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  About the Author

  More By This Author

  CHAPTER ONE

  The upper deck of Asto’s vast military command ship was not a place where I had come very often in the past three months.

  It was the domain of personnel dressed in desert pink military uniforms who kept this ship running, nameless and faceless troops of which there were very many, and who considered me to be an oddity in this quiet, efficient and secretive place.

  The civilians, including myself and my team, spent most of our time on the middle and lower decks of the habitat module, where, for one, there was more room than on this surprisingly cramped command deck.

  After having declared for many years that Asto’s military ships didn’t do artificial gravity, I had found out that they, in fact, did. But only when stationed in orbit, because unfolding and setting up the habitat not only took energy from whatever military operations the ship was running, it also required a fair bit of time. It was, in fact, a mark of how comfortable the military had grown that they had the situation under control.

  I know.

  Famous last words.

  When I entered the control room of this ship that had been my home for the past three months, the giant blue shape of my home planet occupied the top half of the view through the window. The half-orb was slowly rotating and sliding off to the side as both ship and planet moved independently. It was a beautiful sight, although not one I was used to seeing, and definitely not in such a dizzying, upside-down way. I had been to Earth’s Space program’s orbital station, but it hung out in much lower orbit. From up here, we could sometimes see that little unit whizz past, speeding like crazy on its endless quest to not fall back to the surface.

  We were much further out, and moved slowly, and by stealth.

  This giant and dangerous ship wasn’t meant to be in this position. It had no authority to be here, certainly not for a period of three months. Nations of Earth had not acknowledged its presence and the gamra assembly was starting to make some very unhappy noises about it, and the attached military fleet. What were we doing? Was our presence warranted and, most importantly, had the local authorities asked for help from this ominous military fleet?

  No. They had not.

  Nations of Earth had barely been in contact with us since the drone attacks started, now more than three months ago.

  They had definitely not agreed for the Asto military to hang out in orbit and although the fleet protected Earth, some shit was going to hit the fan over its unauthorised presence sooner rather than later.

  But for now, the upper command room of this big and threatening war ship was a pleasant place, with the large circular bench rotated so that it faced the window, much like a tourist vessel for super-rich passengers.

  There were, of course, the usual control workstations along the sides and the walls, but they were empty today. The ship wasn’t doing very much, other than telling a fleet of smaller ships what to do, and to give commands to the many satellites that the military had launched.

  One of the wall screens displayed a diagram of the locations of those satellites.

  They kept Earth safe, all by themselves, because no one was watching them right now either. They did a good job.

  There had been no successful drone attacks for three weeks now.

  The atmosphere inside the ship exuded a sense of hope that we had begun to crack the code, that our tactics of waiting and observing were paying off and that it would be a matter of time before a slip-up by the nebulous and elusive enemy led us to the precise origin and control centre of these drones. Something that we could destroy that would stop the drones from coming, rather than react once they appeared.

  Two men sat on this lush couch facing the window, and I knew both of them well. Ezhya Palayi, Chief Coordinator of Asto and his second, Asha Domiri, commander of the Asto military, and my father-in-law.

  When I came around the front of the couch, I also saw a third man, even if he was not here in body.

  The form of gamra Chief Delegate Marin Federza was projected onto a section of the couch in between the two others.

  I nodded a greeting to him, which he acknowledged, a greeting which was relayed through satellites and the military’s own Exchange node all the way to Barresh.

  He said, “Well met, Delegate.”

  There was only a slight delay between image and sound. Somebody would be paying top money for this connection.

  The presence of the projection left me with a kind of awkward decision: did I sit in between the two others in the middle of the projection, or did I take a much more awkward position on the end of the bench?

  I decided neither was acceptable and remained standing, but Asha shifted sideways, making a spot for me so that I could sit at a proper spot at the end of the couch while being able to look Federza in his fake, projected eyes.

  Asha’s movement, in fact, caused the projection to shift as well.

  Huh, a sentient projection. Yes, serious money was being spent here.

  “Well then. It seems everyone is here. Let us start,” Federza said. He met my eyes. His light, sand-coloured irises never failed to disturb me, not even when they weren’t real. “And let me explain the reasons I need to speak with you. Although I’m confident that you probably know what this is about.”

  In typical Coldi style, neither Ezhya nor Asha said anything.

  Ezhya held his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing his red sash, which he only did when on official business.

  Asha was in full uniform, the pink dress variety, with his jacket with shiny studs and decorations, with his weapon strapped to his arm and communication node blinking on his chest, with his two feeders and his hair tightly pulled back into the customary ponytail.

  His face looked menacing at the best of times, but right now, his expression spelled thunder.

  Right. They had called me up here to do the talking, because neither would score high marks on the diplomacy scorecard. Talking was, as everyone always reminded me, my job.

  “The gamra assembly has debated your position and specifically the function and location of Asto’s military forces,” Federza began. “For quite some time now, we have understood that you were defending the planet from attacks, and we accommodate that view. But increasingly, the questions have grown louder about whether defending the planet is morphing into a more permanent situation, where you establish a permanent base in orbit. In order for us to keep approving and sanctioning your position, we will need to see that your defence of the planet is in fact necessary, and that the planet has, in fact, asked for your assistance.”

  They were well-chosen words that still didn’t hide the underlying sentiment. There were a lot of parties in the gamra assembly that had said for a long time that Asto was trying to annex Earth by stealth, and that all the actions they took towards Earth had that underlying aim. These voices would be screaming murder right now.

  “The planet is truly only safe because of the military’s presence here,” I said. “I can vouch for that.”

  “Oh yes, of course. So you would say. But there are those in the assembly who wonder whether your definition of safe is the same as that of people on the planet. They have, after all, signed up to begin the process of joining gamra, and member entities cannot occupy parts of territory that belongs to other member entities without their permission.”

  “They have not ratified those documents yet,” Ezhya said, his arms still crossed over his chest.

  And this was the usual problem. Because nobody understood, including myself really, why Earth, having signed to join gamra and having sent its first preliminary delegates, had stalled in the joining process. This had happened when Simon Dekker took over the presidency from Margarethe Ollund. There was no animosity, just a distinct feeling that Nations of Earth had other priorities.

  Now, Earth and gamra operated in a kind of legal limbo and nobody was sure what laws applied.

  The usual answer I gave to this question, which was We haven’t been able to contact them, was fast outgrowing its usefulness.

  Federza continued, “They are in the process of joining and have not given us reason to doubt their intent. They are, for the purpose of the current situation, a proper member of gamra. The as
sembly has debated and decided that the ability for us to give our continued approval of your presence in a member entity’s orbital space without their specific agreement will be limited. To be blunt, you will need to show us proof that the authorities, namely Nations of Earth, sanctions your military presence, that you have communicated with them about what military actions you can undertake and what the limits of those actions are, and that you have agreed with them on a process whereby you return control of the orbital space to them once safety has been established.”

  And then I said the tired old words, anyway. “I have explained this to you many times, but we have not been able to establish any useful level of contact with them.”

  “And I remember you telling me this, and I have accepted your explanation. But as time wears on, I need to ask one thing: is the lack of your contact with them because you haven’t tried, or is it because they don’t want you there?”

  “I believe it is neither.”

  “Don’t you?”

  Asha on the bench next to me made a small snorting noise. Ezhya pressed his lips together.

  The three men had—how shall I say this—a bit of a history.

  I remembered all too well one of those occasions where the three of them had been in the same room and Ezhya had pulled Federza up by the front of his well-tailored and expensive shirt.

  Those were the days.

  “I assume that the concept of democracy is strange to you, but I strongly believe that the vast majority of people on the planet object to being attacked from space—”

  “—of course they do. There is no point being smart.”

  “No, I’m not being smart. Because the fact that we can’t establish contact with the Nations of Earth assembly is irrelevant. The people on the planet, all four billion of them, object to being attacked by an agency they don’t know and don’t understand and never supported, even if that agency appears to be part of their own population.”

  I spread my hands, half-expecting arguments about the part of the population statement, because the attacks did come from some disenfranchised group who had split off from Earth’s space colonisation effort and had wandered off into the void and people had forgotten about them until suddenly three months ago, they’d sent an army of drones.

  I was even half-expecting the statement that if this was the case, neither gamra or the Asto military had a place in the conflict and we should let them sort it out and negotiate with whomever emerged as the victor.

  And I would have something to say about that line of thinking because I flatly refused to deal with thugs.

  But he said nothing, so I continued in a more measured voice, because holy crap, I suddenly hated his arrogant Aghyrian butt. He knew nothing, he did nothing except make up impractical and irrelevant rules for the sake of looking like he was doing something.

  “I don’t know why Nations of Earth are not engaging in meaningful discussion with us. I very strongly suspect that part of the reason is safety. In the past, the attacks have followed patterns of communication. They’re in hiding, they don’t want to be discovered, they don’t want us to be unmasked, or worse, they simply don’t have a functional assembly at the moment and can’t debate replies to our communication. We have evidence that there have been attacks on the assembly, and I’ve heard rumours that certain parts of the bureaucracy have moved to underground shelters.”

  “But at the same time, the president has not spoken to you since that message where he supposedly asked you for help?”

  “Not supposedly. He did ask for help. I can send you a recording of it if you want. I know the man, and he dislikes me so much that he would die before he asked me for help. Yet he did ask, and I believe him, so this is a strong reason why I am still here, and while I don’t command the Asto military,” I looked sideways at Asha. He smiled. I wasn’t sure why because I was losing my patience with this man—deep breath. “While I don’t command the Asto military, they are the only means available to stop my world of origin from falling into the hands of blatant thuggery. I object to innocent people being subjected to a regime of terror while we all sit around and debate the legalities of what we could potentially do to help them.”

  “You never cease to give good arguments.”

  “I’m a diplomat. That’s what I do.”

  “Fair enough, and I have given you leniency for quite a while already. But this has now gone on for so long that people in the assembly, including me, are no longer willing to wait. We want to see some results or some justification for this continued situation. I strongly suggest that you address our concerns. At the next sitting, the assembly will debate this issue again. They are likely to withdraw their consent for your presence in a member’s orbital space without seeing their express approval. This has gone on for long enough. You’ve had your time. Various members need to see better justification.”

  And with that, he disappeared off the couch.

  He left a silence in which both Ezhya and Asha glared at me.

  Then Ezhya said, in perfect Isla, “Fuck his bony arse.”

  I chuckled. “Who has been giving you lessons?”

  But my mirth about Ezhya’s remark didn’t last long. He knew exactly what he’d said, and he meant it.

  If I was rather unimpressed with this situation, I could only guess how these two men must feel about the bureaucratic incursion in their lives.

  Asto did not do democracy.

  They objected to being told what to do at the best of times.

  “We need a plan for some quick action,” I said.

  “What we need is to send some well-chosen language to that arrogant prick,” Asha said. “What does he think he is?”

  “He is still the Chief Delegate of gamra. I think overall he has done a decent job. As a person, I don’t really like him either. But overall, he has been quite fair, and we have expected this moment to come up sooner or later.”

  And then nobody said anything for a while, because we had debated this before, and we all knew that there was going to be an end to Asto’s unchecked reign in Earth’s orbital space, even if we were the only entity defending the planet.

  Ezhya snorted. “So what? Do we try to reach another diplomat to sign an agreement that will take the gamra assembly all of a day to rip apart?”

  Asha said, “They make it so very tempting to ignore the whole lot of them.”

  But while he was full of bluster, he would never do that. As much as Asto and gamra could seem at odds, both also needed each other for a wide variety of reasons.

  “With your permission, we might try something different,” I said into the silence.

  They both gave me a sharp look.

  I began, “The situation has been stable for a while with recent drone attacks that have penetrated our defences.”

  Asha gestured, go on.

  “The communication chief has told me that the main networks are secure.”

  “Yes,” Ezhya said. “There will be no problem talking to the Nations of Earth assembly this time.”

  There had been plenty of issues last time.

  I continued, “But who will I be able to reach? President Simon Dekker sent us a garbled message asking for help three months ago and we still can’t track where it came from. We know we have the situation under control, but do they know that?”

  “I made sure that we told them,” Asha said.

  “Would they listen? Would they believe us? Their track record is not good.”

  He lifted his chin. “What are you saying? That they’ve become distrustful? That’s hardly news.”

  “I’m saying that it’s very hard to assess what’s going on—and to get an agreement of the type that would satisfy gamra—from up here, so if the situation is stable, I propose to write up an agreement. There are excellent lawyers on board this ship. With this document, I shall travel to the Nations of Earth assembly and present it to them, explain the reasons for our presence, make amendments if they want, and get the highest authority in attendance to sign the agreement. That way, we can be certain that we’ll get gamra off our backs.”