At the moment, all nine of those members were on the floor of the Chamber. Most were gathered around Hadley in their delegation’s box, but three of them were out circulating. The delegation’s staff reviewed every poll, clipped every editorial, and reviewed the majority of op-ed pieces every day, but Hadley was a firm believer in taking the pulse of the Assembly one-on-one and face-to-face.
Especially on days like this.
“Felicia.”
Hadley turned and found herself facing Hamilton Brinton-Massengale, the delegation’s third ranking member. He was a pleasant, unassuming man, with brown hair, a ready smile, and a certain amiable lack of focus which was highly deceptive. That made him one of Hadley’s best pulse-takers, and she felt her nerves tighten as she absorbed his expression. The usual quick smile was nowhere in evidence.
“Yes, Ham?”
“I think the rumor was right,” Brinton-Massengale said quietly. “An awful lot of people don’t seem to see me when I signal for a word.” He grimaced. “I don’t think they’ve all been struck blind, either.”
“Depends on what you mean by blind, doesn’t it?” Hadley smiled thinly.
“I made a special effort to check in with Heimdall, Cyclops, Trombone, Strathmore, and Kenichi,” Brinton-Massengale told her, and she nodded. All five of those star systems were within thirty-five light-years of Beowulf. In fact, Heimdall was barely fourteen light-years away, and all had been trading partners and (usually) political allies for decades.
“And?” she asked when he paused.
“And Routhier, Reicher, and Tannerbaum were some of the people who seem to be having vision problems. Fang Chin-wen was at least willing to exchange a few words, but I had this sense she was looking over her shoulder the entire time. In fact, the only one who seemed ready for an actual conversation was Gook Yang Kee.”
Hadley nodded again, although not happily. Kjell Routhier was one of Cyclops’ delegates. Aurélie Reicher was from Heimdall, and Charlotte Tannerbaum was from Kenichi, while Fang Chin-wen was the assistant delegation leader for Trombone and Gook Yang Kee was the junior member of the Strathmore delegation.
Hadley wasn’t that surprised about Tannerbaum, since Beowulf’s relations with Kenichi had never been particularly close. Routhier was more of a disappointment, especially after the way Hadley and her delegation had helped grease the skids for his delegation chief to meet personally with Permanent Senior Undersecretary Kolokoltsov a few T-months back. The real disappointment, though, was Aurélie Reicher. Heimdall and Beowulf did a tremendous amount of business with one another, given their proximity, and there was more intermarriage between Beowulfers and Heimdallians than almost any other star system except Manticore itself.
I don’t like the possibility that Heimdall’s decided to pull the plug on us, Hadley thought. Still, Reicher’s a pain in the ass on her best day. And she resents the fact that our delegation’s got two more members than hers does. Talk about petty! So it’s possible she’s simply decided on her own that there’s no point getting splashed if we’re about to get whacked.
“What did Fang have to say?” she asked.
“Not a lot, mostly just everyday platitudes. I had the impression she was making conversation to be polite. On the other hand, that may have been for the benefit of the rest of her delegation.”
“Why do you say that?” Hadley’s eyes narrowed intently.
“Because she’s the one who told me to go have a word with Yang Kee…and she did it very quietly, when no one else from her delegation was in easy earshot.”
“Okay.” Hadley nodded in understanding.
Despite the Chamber’s size and the thousands of human beings who inhabited it when the Assembly was in session (and its members bothered to attend), its magnificent design included sound baffles around each delegation’s formal box. The baffles couldn’t completely deaden the never-ending, rustling surf of that many human voices, but it did reduce the background noise to just that — a background — within each box against which voices inside the box were clearly audible. So it would have made sense for Fang to babble away meaninglessly as a time killer until she could find a moment no one was close enough to overhear her.
Assuming she had something to say she didn’t want the rest of her delegation to know about, at least.
“So what did Yang Kee say when you found him?” she asked.
“Not a hell of a lot,” Brinton-Massengale replied frankly. “But that was because he didn’t know a hell of a lot. He says the senior members of the delegation seem worried, and nobody seems really eager to talk to any of them, either. One thing he did find out, though.”
“What?”
“He’s not on the official list, but Tyrone Reid’s going to move a special motion.”
“Yang Kee’s certain of that?” Hadley felt herself leaning towards Brinton-Massengale, her expression tight. She knew her body language was revealing too much to anyone watching her closely, but she couldn’t help it.
“As certain as he can be.” Brinton-Massengale shrugged. “You know how it is, Felicia. But he says the fix is definitely in. Reid isn’t on the Speaker’s List, but Yung-Thomas is, and Yung-Thomas is going to yield in Reid’s favor. That’s what Yang Kee had from someone on Neng’s staff.”
“I see.” Hadley thought for several seconds, then inhaled deeply. “Ham, I want you to go back to the residence.”
“Can I ask why?” There was no argument in Brinton-Massengale’s tone, but he looked surprised.
“I want an official member of the delegation, not just one of the staffers, to sit on Sir Lyman. Someone nobody with an official position is going to try to shove his way past.”
“You think somebody’s going to try to put the arm on the Ambassador?” Brinton-Massengale looked even more surprised, and Hadley shook her head.
“No, not really, but I don’t want to take any chances. Make sure you’ve entered your proxy code in my favor before you go, so I can cast your vote if I have to. Not that it’s going to do much good.”
“Sure,” Brinton-Massengale said again. He entered the appropriate code, then looked at her before leaving the delegation’s box. “What do you think this is all about? Other than something we’re not going to like, I mean?”
“It could be several things,” Hadley said grimly. “With Reid fronting for them, though, they’re probably going for something fairly heavy. Probably—” She broke off and shook her head. “No, I’m not going to speculate. We’ll know soon enough. Now scoot!”
* * *
Jasmine Neng, the Speaker of the Assembly, was a native of the Sol System (speakers tended to be chosen from mankind’s home star system). Born and raised in one of the belter habitats, she was tall and very slender with a pale complexion and striking dark eyes. She also knew exactly where the real balance of power lay in the Solarian League, or she would never have been chosen for her current position.
She sat in the Speaker’s luxurious chair at the Chamber of Star’s central podium. The Speaker’s position was a towering pinnacle mounted on a twisting, faceted column of varicolored marble — honey and cream, obsidian black and golden, warm green and umber — eight meters tall. It loomed above the closest, floor-level delegation boxes, although the upper perimeter of the Chamber rose even higher above it. The Chamber’s indirect lighting was designed to provide a soft, muted ambience under the huge, hemispherical dome of its ceiling, where Old Luna rose in the east and the glittering wealth of stars stretched out endlessly overhead. In the midst of that dim lighting, the Speaker’s marble column gleamed, picked out and illuminated by floor-mounted spotlights, and a beautifully detailed hologram of Old Terra’s blue and green globe floated above Neng’s console.