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Out here, away from the interference, the humanships would have a much better chance of picking up the grav-drive disturbances of the Sh’daar fleet, especially if that fleetwas close by in all of this aching emptiness.

“Admiral?” Lieutenant West said.

“Yes?”

“Message from Captain Rand, sir. He wants to know your orders for the Russian squadron.”

Gray nodded. He’d almost forgotten about them.

“Tell him he may proceed at his discretion,” Gray told her. “Keep well spread out . . . but stay within five light-secondsof the America. If any of those crews cause trouble, I want to know about it immediately.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

One of the Russian destroyers, the Storozhevoy—the ship most badly damaged in the battle at the Rosette—had had her crew evacuated to the America, her drives melted down, and she’d been left adrift a few billion kilometers from the Rosette with twenty-five disgruntledNungiirtok on board. Her small onboard nanufactory had been pegged—meaning it could only convert rawmat into certain limitedfinished goods—food of the Nungies’ choosing, water, air, and a few luxuries, but not weapons, comm devices, or drive components.They should be still sitting there when the human squadron returned.

Storozhevoy had by chance proven to be a good name for the ship. It meant “Guardian.”

The other three destroyers—Smell’yy, Provornyy, and Ognevoy—as well as the Moskva, all still had their Russian crews, but the officers had been taken off and replaced by USNA personnel, with a company ofMarines on board each vessel to guard against an uprising by the prisoners. Gray had been tempted to maroon the Russians withtheir Nungiirtok allies, but he just didn’t have enough personnel to fill all four captured vessels’ crew billets, even onwatch-and-watch. The Moskva alone had a crew of over four thousand, and while she now had no need of her space wing, there still weren’t enough peoplefrom the America to fill in. He was short of officers as it was and had to press a number of his chiefs and first class petty officers intoroles usually filled by JGs, lieutenants, and lieutenant commanders.

So long as the Russians behaved themselves, it ought to work . . . but he wanted to keep those ships close at hand, just in case he had to send a boarding party across.

One concession he had made: Gray had asked Captain Rand to volunteer to take over the Moskva, and the young officer had jumped at the chance to redeem himself.

Gray hoped he wouldn’t regret the decision.

Chapter Twelve

20 April, 2429

Koenig Residence

Westerville, Ohio

1545 hours, EST

“Mr. President?” a Marine guard said over Koenig’s in-head gear.

“Yes, Master Sergeant?”

“Sorry to bother you, sir, but we have an aircar inbound. One passenger. His ID checks out.”

“Who is it?”

“Randal Jennings. He’s one of Walker’s legal advisors. He says he needs to talk to you in person.”

“I know him. Let him in.”

“Yes, sir.”

Koenig heard the disapproval in the Marine’s voice. The master sergeant would be thinking of things like a bomb hidden inthe aircar, or nanomalware hidden in a handshake.

Well, if Walker really wanted him dead, there wasn’t a lot Koenig could do to prevent it. He would take such precautions ashe could, but he was not going to climb down a hole and pull it in after him.

“What is it, love?” Marta asked.

“One of Walker’s flunkies,” Koenig told her. “A yes-man from way back, a lawyer with a master’s degree in brownnosing. I rememberhim from Walker’s transition team.”

“What does he want?”

“Beats me. Probably delivering a message from Walker.” Koenig thought for a moment. “I’m going to ask you to stay out of sight.”No need to complicate things.

“Of course. Can I listen in?”

“Sure.” He opened an in-head channel. “Konstantin? Are you monitoring?”

“Of course, Mr. President. The aircar is a Subaru-Rockwell Silver Streak, with engine, cabin, and hull modifications. Fairlystandard for the D.C. crowd. Extra power so it can mount extra armor.”

“Are you picking up any threat? Weapons? Explosives?”

“No, Mr. President, though any such could be shielded.” Konstantin hesitated. “The Marines have been quite thorough, however.”

Koenig grinned. “I believe it. Okay, I’d like you to be looking over my shoulder when I talk to this guy. Don’t announce yourself,but listen in.”

“Of course, Mr. President. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Every now and then Konstantin demonstrated what Koenig could only call a sense of humor. It could be a little disconcertingat times.

The aircar glided to a halt on Koenig’s landing deck a few moments later. The canopy split open, and a tall man in formal-dressskintights stepped out. Two Marine guards gave his ID a thorough check, then waved him on. Koenig met him at the door.

“Good afternoon, Mr. President,” Jennings said, extending a hand.

Koenig didn’t take it, but he disarmed the snub with a grin. “Hello, Randal. Sorry. Don’t like being rude, but doctor’s orders.”

“Of course. You have no idea where I’ve been.”

The trouble was, he did know, but he didn’t say anything about it. “What can I do for you? Or is this something for me from your boss?”

“Do you know Dr. Anton Michaels?”

“Not personally.”

But Koenig knew of him, certainly—the Humankind Firster who’d been very much in the news of late. A billionaire and the CEO of an importantspace mining consortium, he supposedly had the ear of the President. Many assumed he was at least in part behind Walker’sdistrust of SAI influences.

“Dr. Michaels is currently at his habitat at Midway, and he would very much like to meet with you.”

“About what?”

“I have no idea. Quite possibly he wants to talk to you about the President’s intent to shut down super-AIs here on Earth,but I have no details. And President Walker wants you to meet with him.”

“Why me?”

Jennings shrugged. “Because the President can’t do it himself. Because you were the President and still have high-level security clearances. Because you’re something of a senior statesman now and havethe best interests of your country at heart.”

“Okay, but why send me halfway up the space elevator? I’m sure Dr. Michaels can find out where I live.”

Jennings looked uncomfortable. “Well, the thing is, Dr. Michaels flat-out refuses to set foot on Earth,

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