On the Same Side
Within the halls of ISEA Command, in the executive conference room of the Department of Exploratory Diplomacy, First Deputy Ambassador Manson Gillis—now promoted to Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary for this mission—assembled his personnel for one last briefing before his delegation set off for Border Starbase 19. This delegation included the first and second deputies assigned to Operation Tarrash, several specialists, and Gillis’ AA (administrative assistant) Brennan Vela, seen as pretty but dead common by many as she originated from the mining colony on Altruz IV. In truth, she was the sharpest of the lot. On arrival at the starbase, the diplomats would transfer to the Eridanus via shuttlecraft to meet and confer with the planetary dignitaries already on board and to settle in for the long journey to Oreana. The great galaxyship would remain several days in orbit around the starbase before everyone transported back down for the official send-off ceremonies.
Back home, Gillis’ wife was packing. She was to accompany her husband per her wishes; never would she let slip such an opportunity. She was owed something at this point. Mrs. Gillis had put up with a lot over the years, and was not about to have either the ambassador’s or her stock lowered at this late hour by this Neiswender girl. Both of them were jealous of the attention Joanni now garnered and the acclaim she would eventually receive. And though both egged each other on, it was Mrs. Gillis who unwaveringly stoked that fire. Every night, she polished her hurt feelings—her loneliness, her bitterness, all the perceived slights and insults—until she had burnished and worked them into a crown. She wore that crown every day and expected to be treated as one who merited such an honor, a queen of her self-diagnosed afflictions; afflictions to be polished and presented to all before her rather than to be struggled with and overcome. And when her audience did not come up to her standards, she simply fashioned that inadequacy into another jewel to add to her crown. Both husband and wife ruled their respective spheres with the tyranny of the credentialed. He had the career credentials and she had the martyrdom credentials. It was telling that Brennan Vela, with a beauty that pleased many men and of whom many women disapproved, did not concern Mrs. Gillis. She favored power over affection.
A meeting of their counterparts, meanwhile, was being convened aboard the Eridanus, and for the first time, Joanni was included among the attendees. The briefing did not go well for her. At first, she said nothing as each officer gave status reports on their area of expertise. She eventually grew braver, and at one point, ventured to correct Protocol Officer Matheson: “The Oreanians would never do that. They don’t value statements of that kind,” she said, but was ignored. She put forward other “facts” that were at first dismissed as incorrect, but later in the discussion proven to be true. This too was ignored.
She had gotten used to this invisibility when Chipman solicited her opinion on ground security arrangements, suddenly turning to her and asking, “They would or wouldn’t consent. Opinion?” When she couldn’t articulate her thoughts immediately, hemming and hawing until First Officer Samuels answered for her, the captain returned his focus to his officers and took no further notice of her.
She said nothing for the rest of the time she sat there. When the meeting was adjourned, Joanni took her pad and walked out into the hall. She called out to Chipman who was already striding down the hall. “Captain, may I speak with you a minute?”
He turned around to her and smiled, but she didn’t smile back. “Make it quick.”
“Captain, you know a million things about a million topics I know nothing about, and I defer to you on all of them, but . . .”
“All of them?” he interrupted facetiously.
“Please. I’m being serious . . . you know a million things about a million topics, and I defer to you on all of them. But, on this one particularly minute, tiny, tiny niche topic—Oreana—I’m the expert. And I expect to be treated as such.”
The captain appreciated her showing some mettle. “You’ll defer to me on all the others?”
“I will.”
“Then it’s a deal. But you’ve got to speak up. Let me buy you a coffee as an apology.”
“If you have time.”
“I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t.”
She smiled at him and they walked together down the corridor toward the lift. It was, though she was not sure why, one of her greatest pleasures, walking down the hallway with him. She felt she could be happy walking together, being together like this, for the foreseeable future, toward the end of time.
For Joanni, the arrival of Gillis and company hovered on the horizon like a dark cloud, a chill serpentining through the air, from now on every movement and thought monitored and rated. She realized how much free rein her captain had given her without in any way lessening his authority, a rare skill she only now fully appreciated.
Finally, the day arrived. The doors of the lift opened and she stepped out to the waiting area outside the shuttlecraft hangar bay. Security guards and Lts. Samuels and Matulis, in dress uniform, were already assembled to form the receiving line for the arrival of the last—and the most important—of the diplomats. The lift doors opened again, revealing Chipman and Pissario.
An announcement rang out from the intercom that the bay doors were opening; the two shuttlecraft had arrived. While the crew waited for the hangar to repressurize, Joanni walked over to Chipman. She was dressed quite formally in heels, a light blue suit, and white shirt with bejeweled cufflinks, quite different from her usual informal skirt and black tights getup.
“How do I look? Diplomatic? Bureaucratic?” she asked him, lifting her arms slightly to provide a better view.
Chipman opened his mouth and shook his head in admiration. “Authoritative,” he joked. Again, he was struck by the many facets of this woman, and by a surge of emotion quite distinct from mere sexual attraction. He had not grappled with such an emotion in quite a long time, not since he’d fallen for the only woman he had ever loved. As the Eridanus crew moved out to the tarmac to review the entourage, the captain looked over his shoulder and gave Joanni an encouraging smile. Part of the emotion he was feeling told him that, rather than sparring partners, they had become a team. He felt that strongly in that moment. Joanni, however, was too lost in her fin de l'été mood to notice. She took a deep breath as the delegation began to disembark.
Image: Pretenders to the throne. Source: Detail from “Wapen van de familie Medici,” by Stefano della Bella, circa 1649 -1664. Public Domain. Edited by J. Weigley.