Things Fall Apart: Chapter 48

Newer York, Ellis Ring, TCTO Embassy; 6 Tammuz 2541 AS, morning

Singer had been concerned that anxiety over the coming day might keep her from sleeping well, but exhaustion won that battle handily. It had been a long, emotionally draining day, after all, and she had not slept well on the pinnace on the way. Once dinner was done, O'Halloran had escorted them back to their rooms and bade them good night. Singer and Cadotte had parted company with a similar absence of fanfare.

Tempted though she was, Singer did not go directly to bed and instead checked the message queue the embassy had set up for her to communicate back and forth with her ship. She was certain the Admiral's people could snoop, if they chose, but oddly enough trusted that they wouldn't.

There were four messages, all from Alexander. Three were just routine status updates, the sort her exec might have given her in person had she been aboard. The first of these made it clear that Alexander expected no answer or action from these messages, but preferred to continue regular updates rather than have to brief Singer en bloc when she came back. Singer could accept that.

Reading through, Singer was able to take note that cross training of various personnel continued to go well; that the midshipmen were all, in Alexander's opinion, ready for actual commissions, even if they were just field promotions; and that the arboretum was starting to take shape, in large part due to the efforts of PO Sharon bat Avi, the one who had almost become a rabble-rouser just a little while ago. The woman had a green thumb and had taken on the task without much discussion when she learned that there was a space set aside for it, and some seeds and soil in storage, just waiting for someone with the skill and time to get it started.

Having seen a great deal of green space today, Singer sighed in appreciation for the idea that there might be a small green patch on her own ship soon, and also that bat Avi was finding her place in the crew.

The fourth entry, however, was a report in detail from Alexander and Cordé about the latter's deep dive into the comm buffers from Bellerophon. Singer only skimmed this—fatigue was definitely starting to bite at this point, and she wanted it to. If she forced herself to read the report in detail, she could tell it would not only postpone her rest, but disrupt it. She would have to find some way to digest it in the morning, either before they left, or on the way to "Briefing One", wherever that was.

So she slept and awoke feeling noticeably better, a little before her alarm. She used the extra time to luxuriate in a proper shower, pulled on her undress uniform, and started out for the dining room.

Passing through the parlor on her way, she saw Espinoza and Cadotte out on the veranda. There was plenty of time, so she joined them. She saw at once that Espinoza was looking happier and more relaxed than he had almost since she'd met him. Of course, given the circumstances of their meeting and all the time since, that wasn't much of a surprise. Clearly, his time with his mishpachah had gone well, enough so that Singer felt emboldened to ask him about it.

"It did, thank you, Captain!" he replied. "I'll admit I was a bit anxious. I've been gone for a long time. Strictly speaking, they're not really my mishpachah any more—I sort of left it all behind when I left Newer York to follow after my grandpa in the TCTO—and I haven't been a great correspondent. They weren't all happy when I left, as you might imagine. They were very happy to see me still alive, though, and very supportive when I told them I'm sticking with you for a while. They might prefer it if I came home, from their perspective, but they understand what we're doing is important. And yes, they're looking forward to meeting you, both of you. You're invited to join us tonight, in fact, for Shabbat dinner, or tomorrow night if there turns out to be something more official we have to do. I understand the President of Revi'i has come up, so I could imagine there being some high-level dinner that would be hard to say no to."

That was actually a lot of words for Espinoza, and Singer found herself smiling, warmed by the simple mundane...familyness...of it. "I agree that's a possibility, but if we're off the hook, I'd be very happy to join you. Lieutenant?" she asked Cadotte, not wanting to assume and making it clear they could make their own decision.

Cadotte was actually smiling, themself, and said, "It's not like I have a lot of other invitations, and meeting the family that produced this joker," they nodded at Espinoza, "should be fascinating."

O'Halloran came through the door at this point, also looking rested. "Breakfast is just about ready, if you'll come with me."

Singer answered, "Of course!" and fell in beside the other woman. Quietly, she asked, "How's Herself?"

"Hungover, but at least not still drunk. I actually think she cut herself off early. The hangover is obvious but she looks like she got some sleep."

Singer nodded but didn't respond, as they were nearly to the dining room. Ambassador Ellison was already there, seated at the head of the table, sipping coffee. She looked better composed than when Singer had last seen her, for which she was greatly relieved. Singer had half-expected Ellison to be a wreck, still.

Ellison smiled up at Singer as if nothing untoward had happened recently, which was surely diplomatic artifice at work. Under other circumstances, Singer might almost be offended, but she supposed Ellison needed a warm-up for this afternoon's larger performance. "Ah, Commanders! Lieutenant! Please come and sit! Rachel informs me my hints to the admiral and governor were actually unnecessary, and President Robina Fifteen was already on her way up. Given the timing, she almost certainly started planning that trip as soon as Zephyr hit orbit. This should be interesting. I think I've only attended one, maybe two other meetings where all three of them were in attendance."

As they all sat, Cadotte used the Ellison's good mood to ask, "Can you explain something to me, Ambassador?"

"I can certainly try!"

"Is Revi'i not really part of the DSR? Why would they get their own leader at this meeting when, say, the mayors of the other stations aren't invited?"

Ellison took another sip of coffee, and staff came out of the kitchen and brought out platters. Singer once again caught the frisson of concern from the staff and resolved to bring it up to the ambassador.

As they all began taking food and passing platters, much like the night before, Ellison began to answer, "The relationship of Revi'i to the rest of the system remains...odd. For some purposes, they act like members of the Republic. They send representatives to the Knesset, for example, and in matters of system security, they defer to the admiral in most things. But they've never really forgotten how they got their start. They were rebels who insisted that the sole purpose of the journey was to colonize the planet. Their ancestors attempted to force the issue, and as punishment got what they wanted—the planet. But it was an exile, and their numbers were too small to be viable by natural means."

Cadotte nodded—they knew at least some of this. "They turned to cloning, right?"

"Exactly. They allowed themselves two careful generations, resulting in exactly one hundred 'templates', and rather than risk too small a gene pool, they relied solely on cloning from that point on." Ellison paused to actually eat some of her food. Singer could tell the food was improving the ambassador's mood, which was moving from performative to actual contentment. She liked storytelling, and she'd all but gone native, so this gave her a chance to talk about something she enjoyed.

"It was slow going," she continued after a moment. "They still had to raise the children, after all, in an environment not entirely conducive to human life. They had the ability to ask for technical assistance and material from the ship—they still thought of it as a ship—but they didn't like to do so. There was a lot of pride, a lot of anger, a lot of grudges on both sides. The two sides would go for decades without talking at all. When Earth's first skipships 'rediscovered' TRAPPIST-1, that started to change. Suddenly, they were no longer splendidly isolated. Several hundred years of thinking the ship and the planet were the last humans left anywhere were knocked sideways. Relations still didn't really warm up, but they got into a better habit of regular contact."

There was another pause while Ellison addressed her plate. Cadotte had not stinted their own while listening attentively, and was nearly done. They asked, "So they're sort of a palatine? Part of the Republic but...also not?"

Ellison nodded, "Ooh, you're a student of history, I see! That word is a deep cut. And you've got it pretty much right. That means the President gets a seat at the table if she wants one, and she clearly decided she wanted one before it was even offered. Good for her, really. Oh!" she said, clearly remembering something else, "I'm not sure if your conversation with Rachel last night included this tidbit, but don't be surprised if the Revi'ini delegation are very...ornate in their appearance. Make-up, flamboyant dress, and so on. It's a bit of overcompensation for having to look at the at their own faces on other people, all the time. They lean quite far into their individuality in other ways to make up for there always being thousands of any particular template around!"

Cadotte and Singer both nodded at this. O'Halloran had, in fact, briefed them about that over dessert the night before, and it was good that she had. Ellison took the lack of another followup question as permission to change the subject and looked to Espinoza. "Señor Espinoza, you're looking almost chipper this morning. Did you visit your old mishpachah last night?"

"Madam, I did. As I've already told my shipmates, it was a very good visit, if brief. Do you happen to know if their are any plans for a formal Shabbat dinner with the governor and/or admiral tonight?"

Ellison mused over a forkful of pancake. "Not that I'm aware of. Rachel?"

"They haven't said anything, ma'am."

Ellison nodded, and finally ate the morsel on her fork, then said, "That fits, really. The governor feels particularly strongly about getting to spend her Shabbat with her people. As you might imagine," she directed this at Singer, "she doesn't get a lot of simple meals at home."

Singer returned a wry smile. "I'd imagine not, and understand why she might feel strongly about it."

Espinoza said, "In that case, ambassador, my family has invited my shipmates, and yourself and Miss O'Halloran, to join them tonight."

Ellison genuinely grinned, as if this simple courtesy had reminded her the universe was not made entirely of horror. Singer had to admit she understood the feeling very well.

"If we don't turn out to be spoken for by officialdom, I'd be delighted!"

"As would I," said Rachel.

"Good, that's settled then. We all think it's a good idea, so we outvote officialdom anyway!" Espinoza responded.

"Hah! Tell that to the admiral if he's got a formal banquet up his sleeve!"

Espinoza allowed himself an air of hauteur, deliberately comic, as he said, "I certainly will!"

Singer allowed herself to relax. She knew this afternoon would still be terrible, but the fact that this group here could banter? Well, she'd already seen the importance of morale first-hand on Bellerophon, and now Zephyr.

As the dishes were being cleared, Singer asked, "How long before we have to leave?"

"About an hour," came the reply from O'Halloran. "Why?"

"I have a report I really need to read, from the ship. I skimmed it last night but I needed my pillow more than I needed to read the details. But I feel like it's something we'll want to bring to the table this afternoon. I can tell you all about it on the way."

Ellison nodded, "Makes sense. Well, then, you're excused, Commander. I'm going to have a bit more coffee and talk some things over with Rachel. See you in an hour."