24
It took a few more weeks for everything to be figured out, but eventually the 5 Suns Alliance government agreed to terms for the migration and placed Clement in charge of the entire Kemmerine and Rim sectors, as a 5 Suns Navy Admiral. Clement had to re-swear his oath, and this time he was frankly glad to take it, for the first time in his life.
In all honesty the 5 Suns government seemed glad to be rid of the problems with the Rim planets, and they voluntarily ceded responsibility for oversight of them to Clement. For his part, Clement agreed to full, free trade with the alliance in exchange for a revenue-sharing agreement of seventeen percent to his station. That would be enough to modernize his fleet and keep the Core Command out of his hair for a very long time.
About a quarter of the station workers and navy personnel opted to leave Kemmerine for home or the Core worlds, but they were quickly replaced by new recruits from the Rim, and others from the two Kemmerine worlds, New Paris and Shenghai. It would be a difficult transition for a new administration at the station, but Clement was confident that would work itself out with time.
The transition was already well underway when the crew of the Beauregard gathered at The Battered Hull a month later for a reunion of sorts. Clement and Yan were joined by Massif, Ori, Pomeroy, the three ensigns—whom Clement had promoted again to full lieutenants—and even the mostly socially inept Nobli came by. Yan was at his side in a fresh uniform denoting her new rank of captain.
Admiral Clement led a toast for Lieutenant Daniel, lost on the excursion to the Earth Ark. He made sure all the lieutenants got their new ranks made official, with Daniel’s awarded posthumously. He even sent a letter to Daniel’s parents personally on 5 Suns Alliance Navy letterhead.
As the party wound down, a rather drunk Yan came up to him and put one arm over his shoulder.
“Would you like to go . . . ” Then she seemed to lose her train of thought.
“Go where?”
“I don’t know. New Hong Kong. See the sites, take a vacation for once.”
It had been a very long time since he’d had a vacation, but: “I’m making plans for the next week or so. You’ll have to survive without me for a while.”
“What? What could be more important than me?” she slurred, clomping her beer glass down on the heavy wood table, some of the contents sloshing out. Then she got distracted trying to wipe up the table. Clement signaled a bar girl who came over with a wet rag and cleaned up Yan’s mess quickly. Yan turned to him again.
“Where?” she said.
“Where what?”
“Where are you going?”
Clement finished his glass of sailor’s ale before answering. “I’m going home,” he said.
She looked confused. “To Argyle?”
He shook his head. “No, to Ceta. I’m going to try to convince my parents to emigrate to the Trinity system.”
“Never been to Ceta,” she mumbled. “But why go now? It will be at least six months before the first colonists go out . . . there,” she said, pointing to nowhere in particular. She drank again from her glass before Clement pulled it away from her. He grabbed her around the waist and spun her close so that they were facing each other on their bar stools.
“Why can’t I come?” she asked.
“Well, for one thing, you’re drunk,” he replied.
She mock slapped him on the shoulder. “Am not.”
“Are.”
“Not.”
He let that hang in the air between them for a moment. “But, well, if you’ve never seen Ceta . . . ” He trailed off.
“Can I go? Can I? Can I go with you?”
“There’s not much to see. No monorails like on Shenghai, just railroads. No big, beautiful oceans or mountains, just salty lakes and a few brown rolling hills. It’s a very dull planet.”
He was playing with her and she knew it.
“I want to go.”
“Why?”
“To be with you, Jared. Your . . . my only real friend,” she said, turning away and taking another, much smaller, drink from her ale. He reached up and pushed a hanging bang away from her face.
“Well, having a traveling companion does sound like fun.”
“It’s settled then. What time are we leaving?”
“The shuttle to Argyle is at 5:00 a.m.” She looked down at her watch, which read ten past midnight.
“Better take hangover repressors,” she said.
“Good idea. But not just yet. I kinda like you when you’re drunk,” he said.
“You have a one-track mind,” she replied, pointing an accusing finger at him.
“I don’t.”
“Hmm,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “It’s time to go, Admiral, sir. We have a busy day tomorrow.”
“Yes, we do.” Clement looked around the room. The three newly minted lieutenants were sitting together, chattering up a storm. Mika Ori and Massif and Pomeroy were engaged in a deep and meaningful conversation, about what he wasn’t sure, but with those three, you never knew.
He took Yan by the hand and led her out of The Battered Hull, but stopped at the door and turned back one last time, looking at his crew. They had all done a hell of a job. And then he noticed something he’d never seen before. Hassan Nobli was waving his hands back and forth, no doubt explaining some complex engineering concept to the bar girl, who sat enraptured at his every word and gesture, laughing and smiling. Then Clement smiled too.
Hell, maybe Nobli would finally get that girlfriend after all.