A Time for War, a Time for Peace - Keith R. A. DeCandido [28]
“Good news, actually,” Esperanza said. “We found Bobby.”
It took a great effort for Nan to keep from stumbling.
Nan Bacco married Roberto LaManna when she was twenty-two years old. Bobby was thirty-seven at the time, and she thought he was the most wonderful man in the galaxy. Four years later, he walked out on her only as a preemptive strike against her throwing him out. Nan had, it turned out, been the fourth woman the con artist had tricked into marrying him, but the first who had cottoned to him before he could make off with all her worldly possessions.
He had disappeared decades ago, with Nan’s sole reminder of him the only one she truly wanted: their wonderful daughter Annabella, now living on Luna with her family.
“You’re sure it’s him?” Nan asked as she gingerly took her seat, trying to keep her hands steady as they held the hot coffee. “Remember the last time?”
“It’s definitely him,” Esperanza said. “And he’s definitely dead.”
Nan blinked. “What?”
“He settled on Rigel VIII a few years back, opened a small tavern. Fairly popular place among the miners.”
“How’d he die?”
“Natural causes.”
Nodding, Nan turned to the others. “We’re stopping at Rigel at some point. Bral, set it up.”
The Triexian said, “Of course,” even as Helga asked, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I want to visit the grave—and, honestly, I want to make sure the son of a bitch is really dead.”
“You shouldn’t,” Helga said. “Not before the election. The whole reason we tracked him down was to make sure he couldn’t hurt the campaign.”
“He can’t hurt anything if he’s dead,” M’Tesint said.
“Oh yes he can. Even acknowledging his existence can hurt us.” Helga started waving her arms around as she spoke. “Can you imagine what Pagro would do with the information that your husband—”
“Ex-husband,” Nan said emphatically.
“Fine, ex-husband is a career criminal? If you go to his grave, you’ll hand that to them on a silver platter. Worse, you’ll make it look like you miss him, and they’ll twist that.”
Esperanza sighed. “She’s right, Governor, we can’t afford it.”
Bastard finally died and I can’t properly enjoy it, Nan mused as she took a thoughtful sip of her coffee. “All right, we’ll wait. But I want confirmation. See if you can get the Rigelians to exhume the body in secret or something. What’s next?”
“We’ve got to start thinking about endorsements,” Helga said.
Esperanza shook her head. “They’ll come in due time.”
“We don’t have due time. The election’s in only three weeks. If we were doing a normal campaign, I’d agree, but we can’t afford to sit around and wait for people to decide they like us.”
Nan smirked. “So I have to make people like me, is that it?”
“Actually, that isn’t too far off, Governor.” Helga removed a padd and a stylus from the pocket of her suit jacket. “We should start with the FNS.”
M’Tesint’s ears flattened. “No.”
“They’re the most reputable news service out there.”
“Which is exactly why we shouldn’t start with them. Or finish with them, or do anything in the middle with them. The only thing trying to curry their favor will accomplish is to guarantee that they’ll endorse Pagro. They’ll judge objectively who to endorse based on the platforms and past records, period. Trust me on this.”
“But—”
Esperanza stared at Helga. “M’Tesint knows this stuff, Helga. Move on.”
Helga looked like she wanted to say more but, to Nan’s relief, she thought better of it. “We can write Starfleet off.”
Nan frowned. “How come?”
Ashanté answered that one. “Once Ross dropped out, Pagro’s stranglehold on Starfleet was pretty much guaranteed. He’s a special emissary, he knows most of the higher-ups.”
Fred added, “And every time he goes somewhere it’s with a Starfleet escort, and he’s sure to spend the whole time making friends with the crew.”
“Fine,” Esperanza said. “Who else?”
Before Helga could answer, Nan