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The technician cut off Kant’s snide reply. “Thirty seconds.”

“About time,” Kant muttered.

Half a minute later, several figures appeared in the room in front of Kant. Some were humanoid, some not. (This was another major change with the holocom: It allowed those with different atmospheric needs to those of most humanoids to be in the room instead of in a separate area. While Kant agreed with the spirit, the actual result of more people in the room was something else he found annoying.) Some were of sufficiently acute resolution as to seem like they were right there in the room, others were laden with static and poor image quality. Some stood and some, to Kant’s dismay, were seated. Some were also far enough away that there would be a time delay in their questions and responses, which Kant had gotten used to, but had no intention of ever liking.

When the figures blinked into existence, a cacophony of sound hit the room like a photon torpedo. Kant had grown accustomed to it; Zhres, though, winced. I wonder if he’ll get used to it. Probably won’t last long enough to. Kant took a certain pride in that.

The noise died down as soon as everyone realized they were “on,” so to speak, the more distant reporters taking longer thanks to the time delay. Kant began speaking as soon as the room was completely quiet.

“First I have a statement, then two announcements, then I’ll take questions.

“Here’s the statement: ‘The Federation Council has examined all the petitions for presidential candidacy that have been submitted, and has chosen three who fit the criteria for consideration. An election will be held three weeks from today, with the votes to be tallied by an independent auditor and announced one week after that. The three candidates are: Ktarian Special Emissary Arafel Pagro, Cestus III Governor Nanietta Bacco, and Starfleet Admiral William Ross.’ ” Putting the padd with the statement aside, he then read from the one under it. “Both Special Emissary Pagro and Governor Bacco have agreed to run in the election. Special Emissary Pagro will be giving a press conference on the Golden Gate Bridge on Earth tomorrow, and Governor Bacco is en route to Earth for a press conference of her own at the Statue of Liberty, also tomorrow.”

He then set aside that padd, and looked up. As soon as he did so, several voices blared at once. Before Kant could call on someone, a short human woman asked, “What about Councillor T’Latrek?”

Kant looked at her, pulled one of his padds, checked her face against the press list. Yup, it’s the new woman from the FVG.

“Ms. Armitage, you’ve never been in here before, so let me fill you in on how we do things—I call on people who then ask a question. You do not barge in and get your question asked first by virtue of being ruder than everyone else. That’s my job.” He turned to a Trill woman. “Ozla?”

Ozla Graniv of Seeker, one of Trill’s leading news-magazines, smiled sheepishly. “Actually, Jorel, I was also going to ask about T’Latrek.”

Kant glowered at her. “Fine. For you, I’ll answer it. T’Latrek’s name was not submitted to the council for consideration.” He turned to the reporter from the Times. “Edmund?”

“Has there been any further word from President Zife—sorry, ex-President Zife—on the subject of why he felt the need to resign now?”

“That ground was well covered in the resignation speech, I thought.”

Edmund Atkinson smiled superciliously, as was his wont. “I didn’t think so, and neither do my readers. He’s three years into his second four-year term. What did he do that was so terrible that it required holding an election a year early?”

Kant sighed. “I would think that your readers would be grateful for a politician who realized his own shortcomings and moved to address them. Maria?”

The squat human woman who covered the council for the high-gravity world of Pangea asked, “Does President Zife’s resignation have anything to do with the horrific events at Tezwa, and is the Federation’s alliance with the Klingon Empire in any danger of collapsing again, especially