Heresy 35

At a hundred and twenty-two kilos weight, Thomas Harriman was not built for running. He ran anyway, his footfalls thundering in the corridors of the Palais de la Concorde. The security guard at the office door made an abortive movement as if to stop him, then apparently thought better of it.

Harriman burst through the door. "Mr. President -"

Aennik Okeg turned to look at him. "I've heard, Tom. Sit down, please. You shouldn't be running."

As his aide collapsed into a creaking chair, the Federation President turned back to the glowing screens on his desk. All of them seemed to be flashing urgent priority icons. Okeg sighed. "We seem to have a problem. Let's not panic straight away, though."

"Mr. President -" Harriman coughed, gasped, swallowed hard, began again. "Mr. President, if you've got a better idea, I'd love to hear it."  

"Well," said Okeg, "for a start, we must be sure we have our facts straight... but, I'm afraid, that will buy us very little time. They appear to be depressingly clear-cut."

He touched one panel on the display. "This should be good," he said.

An image expanded on the office's main screen; the image of a ferocious reptilian face. "The Klingon Empire," Ambassador S'taass's voice sounded in the room, "today reiterates its position and reaffirms its friendship with the Romulan Republic. In the event of Federation aggression against Republic interests, the Empire stands ready to defend its friends and protect their citizens from attack. This statement is issued with the full authorization of Chancellor J'mpok, and is supported fully by the Gorn government - though that should surprise no one; the Empire and the Gorn have always honoured their treaty obligations. It remains to be seen whether the Federation is capable of doing the same."

Okeg muted the sound. "Quick off the mark," he observed. "Well. That clarifies our position, somewhat."

"Clarifies how?" Harriman asked.

"It shows us what courses of action are impossible." Okeg put one hand to his brow. "The alliance in the Solanae sphere is already at the point of collapse. If the Klingons and the Republic combine against us, they can freeze us out of the Delta Quadrant - cut off access to both Dyson spheres."

"But -" Harriman sputtered. "The technology - the discoveries in those spheres -"

"An issue of some importance, yes," said Okeg. "More importantly... I do not believe the KDF and the Republic can hold back the Voth without our help, let alone the Undine. And the consequences of losing the spheres entirely, to either of those, would be... catastrophic. So. We know that we cannot repudiate our links with the Republic. Ergo, we cannot support the Vulcans in this matter... even though we must." He smiled, faintly. "A problem."

"Mr. President, you have to talk to D'Tan. Persuade him to - to disavow this Admiral Trosek, give him up to the Vulcans for prosecution -"

"I'll try, Tom, but D'Tan won't do it. Firstly, he won't do it because it's wrong; secondly, he won't do it because it would break up the Republic. He'd not only lose Obisek's support, he'd lose the Republic navy, too - if they believed he'd sacrifice a senior officer for political reasons, they'd lose all confidence in him." Okeg turned his lambent eyes on the aide. "You've got contacts with our people on Vulcan. Use them. The only other option we have is to persuade the Vulcan Council to... forego vengeance. Get a feeling for the mood on Vulcan, Tom, and find out how far we can expect the First Minister to be - accommodating."

Harriman heaved himself out of the chair. "I'll try, sir." He shook his head as he mopped his brow. "Sir, I have to say - I envy your, your calm in all this -"

"Ah." The President's small mouth curved briefly in a smile. "Biology's on my side there, Tom. Cold-blooded, you see. And I shed my skin bianually, so all my worry lines go with it. It's a big help."

---

Back in his own office, on the fourteenth floor of the Palais, Harriman though furiously, then keyed the secure comms console on his desk. "Get me Undersecretary St. Charles at the Earth Embassy on Vulcan. Secure subspace linkup."

It was less than a minute before the smooth plump face of David St. Charles appeared in Harriman's viewer. "Hello, Tom. I was sort of expecting your call."

"Right. Dave, the President wants to persuade the First Minister to veto any direct action on this affair by Vulcan."

St. Charles whistled. "Doesn't want much, does he?"

"I know, it's not going to be easy. What are the chances?"

"Not good." St. Charles shook his head. "Damn the Romulans anyway. If they'd had the sense to muddy the waters, claim it was an unrelated action against pirates or something - hell, we could have faked sensor records and debris, had the Hegemony ship giving its life valiantly in defence of the Remans, even. Instead -"

"I know, I know. God damn all honest politicians anyway. Dave, the Hegemony is going to be out for blood - how much pressure can they put on the First Minister?"

St. Charles looked grim. "A lot. These people are organized, Tom, they have been from the outset. They've co-opted a strong minority on the Council already, and their personal popularity is growing."

"How much do personalities count for, with Vulcans?"

"More than you'd think. Stiak is playing up the disinterested academic thing, and T'Nir is always in the background being quiet and reasonable, and these things play as well with the Vulcans as Valikra's fanaticism did with the Romulans. And with Valikra out of the picture, Vulcan public opinion is a lot less hostile to the Roms than it was. Especially with Romulan refugees coming over in droves, each one with a piteous tale of woe and a loud thank-you to the Hegemony."

"Damn. The Hegemony ship was unauthorized, though, wasn't it? Under Vulcan law?"

"Yeah, we might be able to work a legalistic angle on this. It won't go down well, but the First Minister might swallow it, for the good of the Federation. I say might. And there's not much else we can do to put pressure on the First Minister. Like you said, God damn honest politicians."

"Do what you can, Dave, and do it quick. And if your friends can help -"

"Tom, I've told you before, I copy all my reports to Finance Division so I get my expenses, and that's all 'cc: FD' means." St. Charles sighed. "I'll do everything I can, Tom. Goddamn mess."

"Ain't it just. Dave, do you have any idea who did kill Valikra? God forbid it was -"

"No. No. No. Even - Finance Division - would know better than to turn Valikra into a martyr. I don't know. If you want my personal opinion, I think it was Remans. There are still Reman splinter cells out there, run by people who make Obisek look cuddly and J'mpok look reasonable. But it's just a guess, I don't know."

"Damn it. If only we did know - All right, Dave. Do what you can. A miracle would come in very useful round about now."

"I'll try." St. Charles hesitated a moment, then said, "I don't mind telling you, Tom, I'm worried. Things are volatile, here, and Vulcans - well, they don't get accustomed to things the way we do."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean they don't have an emotional attachment to the status quo, the way we do or other emotional species do. We can get used to things, Tom - even if a situation isn't all that good, objectively, we've got a lot of emotional inertia telling us we want to stick with the way things have always been. The Vulcans don't do that. When their logic tells them there's a need for change, they just up and change. Just like that. So, when Vulcan is in a volatile mood - well, that's when I worry." St. Charles was frowning deeply. "I'll do everything I can, Tom. Talk to you soon."