There! The baby could be safely lifted upward, the umbilical cord trailing back into the womb. The tiny figure was covered in white and blue and red stuff she couldn’t name, but it had yet to cry. Hell, if it were her, she’d be wailing the moment she felt the cool air.
A fresh pair of shears was placed in her hand, and she cut the cord and then wrapped the baby tight. Peering into the tiny face, Vanessa willed it to breathe, to cry, to show some sign of life. One eye opened, unfocused, and then the other. The mouth parted, and first there was a gasp of air and then a whimper. The whimper repeated and turned into the cry she expected.
Fresh tears obscured her vision, and the other Ranger carefully took the baby from her and brought it to the nearby diagnostic monitor.
The baby was born: an orphan in a world still at war.
ii
General Gustav Hawkins was looking forward to retirement. He had done his service to the Rangers and was ready to go fishing with his grandchildren. He last saw action over a decade before, earning him a promotion and the post of overseeing the Rangers in the twin city. He was capable and maintained readiness, taking pride in exceeding his recruitment numbers every year. When he woke up that morning, he found himself dreading putting on his uniform and traveling from New Earth City across the desert to Nova Prime City.
That morning, for the first time in memory, Nova Prime was absent leadership.
The minute Hawkins heard PC Hunter Raige was killed, he knew that the job was his if he wanted it, and deep down he knew he didn’t want it. If offered, he’d have little choice but to accept so he strode into the great hall for the emergency session with one mission in mind: Find someone else to take the post.
What he didn’t anticipate was the total vacuum that awaited him, with all three world leaders now dead. Instead of meeting with Primus Ione Kincaid and Savant Sinead O’Brien, he was seated opposite the Primus’s second in command, Crucible Maria Pryor, and the Savant’s number two, Tribune Suraj Gurang. They looked as bewildered and lost as he felt and clearly were not prepared for the meeting. He couldn’t blame them; they were younger and less experienced and were still mourning their superiors.
The Crucible opened the meeting with a prayer and a short memorial to the Primus, then took her seat and gazed at the tabletop. Hawkins at least had had the foresight to have his own number two prepare a rough agenda.
Gurang, thirtyish, with dark hair and brooding eyes, had been working as the Savant’s Tribune for two years, and Hawkins recalled seeing his name on numerous reports. He had been a physicist, working on improvements to the cutlass, and so he showed sympathy for the Rangers’ needs. That was a good thing.
Crucible Pryor, though, was also nearing retirement and was clearly there to serve the Primus, not succeed her.
With Hunter dead, that left Vanessa, but she had been a Ranger for just eight years. Was that enough to elevate her to such a role? He barely knew the woman, having met her only at a handful of functions. Still, she had a reputation, including that of killing the Ursa that had murdered her brother and then delivering her nephew. Pretty gutsy in Hawkins’s estimation, but that was during a crisis. What about during peacetime? Of course, the lack of leadership was a different sort of crisis, so maybe this was her time after all.
“Nature abhors a vacuum,” Gurang said, causing Hawkins to inwardly wince at the reminder, “and our own committee is reviewing suitable candidates to replace our Savant.”
“No obvious candidates? She was running that place for nearly thirty years, so somebody had to pop up,” Hawkins said.
Gurang stared at the tabletop. “We didn’t anticipate needing to replace her so quickly.”
Hawkins swiveled about, facing the Crucible. “And what about your team? After Primus Bernardo made it to 101, Kincaid decided to go for the shortest record?”
Pryor didn’t meet his gaze and quietly answered, “She was focused on fighting Ressler’s Disease and as such did not like to dwell on life after her passing.”
“So she just left you high and dry?”
Pryor stiffened at Hawkins’s casual approach toward the holy order. She refused to look his way and was acting a little too high and mighty for his taste.
“How do you guys pick your successor?” Hawkins continued.
“We… have a holy congress and weigh each candidate’s value. Many are qualified, but few choose to serve in such an august position. This is not something done in a hurry.”
“Well”—he paused and looked at Gurang—“if you don’t pick someone soon, running this world will fall to us. I can’t speak for the Citadel or the Mirador, but I know the Rangers could benefit from someone better equipped to lead.”
“And what of the people, General? What do they need?”
“A triumvirate to rally around, a trio of leaders they can place their confidence in. They need faces to see on the screens and on the streets. We need to rebuild not just structurally but also to rebuild faith and trust. If you think about it, we failed. All of us. The Savant’s satellites were easily circumvented—again—and the Primus was so busy hiding her illness, she wasn’t there when we needed her guidance. The Rangers couldn’t take the Ursa down fast enough, weren’t anticipating a three-legged version. We let the people down, and now we have to build that back up, put a fresh bandage over the wounds left behind.”
“Most important, it needs to be done quickly,” Gurang added. “The media has already concluded that the Savant’s passing leaves us adrift. The people are mourning and worn; they need something to rally behind, and that’s this government.”
“Well said,” Hawkins began. “You want the job?”
“Heavens, no. I have other things I prefer to devote my time to,” he said defensively.
“So we’re back at the beginning. We need leaders in all three divisions and need them fast,” Pryor said.
“May I make a suggestion?” Hawkins rose and tapped a control on the panel before his seat. Appearing before the Crucible and the Tribune were images of Vanessa Raige along with her duty jacket. Both scanned the data as the General paced around the room, warming up to his topic.
“We need leadership sooner than we’re comfortable with. What about an interim leader?”
The Crucible nodded in agreement, her eyes still reviewing the findings. “Yes, we might be able to name a pro tem Primus. It’s never been done, but the guidelines do not prohibit it.”
“You said ‘leader.’ Singular,” Gurang said.
“Good catch,” Hawkins said. “Yes, I am proposing something radical. As you will see in her profile, Ranger Raige is deeply religious and respectful of the Citadel. She also has amazing science scores. She understands all three branches of government and has proved herself in the field. The best thing about her is her name.”
“Raige.”
“Yes, Crucible. She’s a Raige, one of a long line that has become a part of the planet’s lifeblood. Who better to rally around than a Raige in our hour of need? Make her interim everything for a year and let us rebuild and reorganize.”
“No,” the woman said. “She is not trained in our ways.”
“But you are,” Hawkins said. “Guide her. Let Vanessa bring her skills to your operation, and that gives you time to select someone appropriate to continue Primus Kincaid’s work.”
“Six months,” Gurang said. “We’ll have someone picked long before that, but it gives us time to prepare and make this a smooth transition. It gives Raige a chance to get all three branches back in working order.”
“I can live with that; can you?” He stared intently at the Crucible, who wrinkled her brow in concentration.