Michael Williamson - When Diplomacy Fails…

They were certainly competent at keeping threats away, even when they lost a man. Still, the Army had gotten him back for them. It hadn’t softened their attitude. Minor protesters were not a threat. She half expected the goons to follow her to the bathroom. In the meantime, they used stink gas, gunfire, explosives and vehicles, and had killed a newsworthy number of nobodies who’d follow Highland’s career like zombies. She was quite sure that had been the reason they’d been sent. The Special Service knew to intercept bullets and keep quiet. These trigger-happy clowns seemed to enjoy shooting people, and she was fairly sure their weapons did not have biometric locks. Not working ones, at least.

She would be in need of a new biosculp when this was over, and that before taking office. They even saw Jessie as a potential threat, not to mention Huble.

So it was time to pull in some favors, have the mercenary bastards marked as what they were. She could then separate herself, be magnanimous and fair, and regret it as they went down.

She just had to keep Cruk’s publicity people from covering them against her. So perhaps a call to Blanding was in order, to find some non-profit group who could sue on behalf of the low-class rabble they’d blithely shot.

The next load that flashed made her grit her teeth and growl. She wanted something to bite, to chew, to rip with her jaw.

People wondered why she hated the common morons the Equality Party attracted. It was because they were morons. Enthusiasm didn’t equate to competence or even usefulness.

The slogan was, “Let’s position Joy on top!”

It was on flash buttons, on shirts, on hats and pennants.

Even worse, at a rally in Bangladesh, a crowd was chanting. The reporter waxed eloquent about the turnout numbers, but behind her it was easy to hear, “Joy on top! Assume the position!”

It might be enthusiasm and lack of familiarity with English idiom. It might be unintentional idiocy. Or, it might be the work of some shill from Cruk’s camp or even Hunter’s. And yes, his name was most certainly part of why she wouldn’t team with him. “Joy/Hunter” would have made this even worse.

It had to be stopped. Morons would ignore spelling errors, or even inadvertent insults. But a catchy phrase with innuendous potential would linger for years. She screened a quick message.

Huble: Cease and desist these moronic fuckers at once.

I want those signs gone within the hour.

Spend the money to makesure they are destroyed.

Then she moderated it slightly, because it just might get cracked in transit. Polite in all matters, she reminded herself.

She understood why so many of her… well, no, they weren’t peers, but competitors, took offers from the multinationals. The power was less visible, but that gave leeway to behave more casually.

But she would beat that classless buffoon. It would take a few phone calls… which she couldn’t make from here. That twelve hour delay was infuriating.

Alex knew this was a goat rope. All he could do was keep roping.

He entered their quarters, which were covered by two of Cady’s people.

Marlin said, “You’re secure inside, sir.”

“Thanks. Outside?”

Roger Edge said, “Nothing that we can discern.”

Jason said, “I’ll check,” as he unshouldered his coat, slipped arms through his harness, cleared his pistol before reaching the door to his quarters, and tossed the whole ensemble on the bed.

Alex likewise took his coat off, unsnapped the armor, and said, “Elke, I’ll want whatever feeds you have. In an hour.”

It could be done faster, but they all needed to hydrate after a sweaty ride, standing for hours in a hall and a flight back. Then they needed bathroom breaks, to reconstitute gear, and save files, make notes, debrief themselves. There were several reasons they got paid as well as they did, and the long hours were part of it.

Jason reported secure. Everyone summarized their notes.

“Elke, what do you have for us?”

“She’s angry,” Elke said. “Just as she told us, she thinks it will be seen as weak. Here.”

She started a playback from a video feed in Highland’s quarters. It wasn’t good video, but even the BuState intel people hadn’t found the devices. Nor was he sure what Elke used. If found, he’d deny it, she’d get “counseled,” the lawyers would apologize, and they’d go right back to doing what they’d been doing.

Highland said, “Cruk is going to be the cause of my breakdown. Or rather, his handlers are. That retarded African buffoon is beyond a puppet.” She strode around, distorted slightly from the correction algorithm on the near spherical lens. She had a glass of something, half-drained already, and her biometrics seemed to indicate some sort of tranquilizer.

JessieM sat on the couch, looking a bit tense but unafraid. She said, “It hasn’t affected you negatively yet. They’re reporting that the unrest caused the entire conference to divert to air.”

“Yes, so I personally am okay, but BuState look like bumbling idiots. That’s why we got rid of leMieure. I can’t be seen in any comparison to him.”

“Of course not. But you present better. Your intro went over well, and your followup release says you regret that further progress couldn’t be made through intransigence and the stress of the civil unrest. I noted the unrest was due to economic and societal inequality, and that you wanted peace for all groups to pursue their joint destiny.”

Interesting. JessieM wasn’t just a lackey. That was a pretty well-phrased release, done on the fly. He looked at the others, they looked back and nodded. It was understood.

“Good. I need to distance myself from Ripple Creek before they take a fall.”

“I’ve been churping that you would rather have BuState security. This change is due to the administration.”

“We can’t blame them! They’ll come back on us.”

“I haven’t. It’s stated as due to necessity, and I blamed the Liberty Party for refusing to accede to a reasonable budget, thus forcing this on us.”

“Good. We’re all friends here, and I greatly respect our faithless and fearful leader. Once we’ve cleared decks and are ready for the caucus, then we’ll pile on.”

“He’s going to expect that.”

“Of course. The trick is not to come across as too competent. If he has to throw resources at it, he looks like a bully. Passive aggressive strategy.”

“Ma’am, should we be discussing this out loud?”

“Huh? Oh, it’s fine. Mr. Gillette swept this place right before we came in. Didn’t you get the churp?”

“I did not.” JessieM looked somewhat nonplussed at being left out of that discussion.

“Yes, he’s got us covered.”

That was interesting, Alex thought. Had he done a half-assed job? A good job, but not good enough? Or was he a mole for someone?

“Elke, are you sure no one else has a feed from there?”

“I am.”

Jason said, “So am I. Aerospace Force was able to check on Bishwanath as a colonial power. BuState has made it very clear they won’t allow outside agencies, and I’ve checked. If the military got anything, it would mean someone’s neck. So if someone is even trying, it’s without permission and a hostile act. Then they’d have to go through Cady to do so. Nor did we find anything. Probability, then, is very low.”

“Understood, but low is not zero.”

“Of course. All a matter of odds.”

They stopped as Highland said, “… will need to get moving on Ripple Creek. They are going to save me, just not the way those bloodthirsty retards imagine.”

Very interesting, and unnerving. If she’d toss out the R word, and planned to take them down, then this was very interesting.