Up Against It - M. J. Locke [39]
“Of course,” Jane said.
They left Deirdre being comforted by Geoff, and walked into the forest, to a small alcove beneath a live oak. Jane sat down on a bench. The cameras scuttled, rustling, among the undergrowth, and motes drifted down. After a moment Sal sat, too. His upper lip was beaded with sweat.
“Everybody’s talking about the accident. They’re saying we only have a week or two before we run out of air and fuel. Everybody who could get off before the ships were confiscated has left. A lot of people can’t get off.”
“We have more time than that,” Jane said. “We’re exploring several options. Trust me, Sal, we’ve got lots of people working on this. We’ll come up with something.”
“Still,” he said. Jane opened her mouth, met his gaze, and silenced herself. He drew a breath. “Look. Carl’s death was an accident. No one blames you. But Dee and Geoff are all I have left.” His voice broke. “I will do whatever it takes to keep them safe.”
“Of course you would.”
“I’m glad you understand. It makes this a little easier.” He paused, smoothed his hair. “For the sake of our friendship, I want you to get Dee and Geoff berths on the Sisyphus.”
Jane felt shocked, and then sad. “I can’t do that.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Sal, the Sisyphus isn’t going anywhere until Benavidez lifts the ban on departures. And he’s not going to do that until he knows we’ve got ice coming in. So there’s no point.”
“I don’t care. For the sake of our friendship, I want you to do this.”
“Stop and think about what you’re asking for. If I do that for you, what’s to stop Xuan from demanding I do it for his family? Aaron and his wife have four children and two grandkids. Where does it stop?” She sighed. “I took an oath when I took office. I can’t play favorites. I just can’t go there. You must see that.”
He stared at her, unyielding. The silence stretched. She rubbed her forehead. “Look, I’m going to give you some nonpublic information. But you must promise to tell no one. No one at all.”
“All right.”
They either had Ogilvie beat by tomorrow or they didn’t, and the two-day lag between when “Stroiders” filmed goings-on here and when their Downsider audience had access to it meant that what Jane was about to say should not affect Benavidez’s plans in any appreciable way.
“We’ve got a shot at a large off-the-books shipment of ice. I can’t discuss the details,” she said, at his expression. “And we also have a backup plan, in case anything spins wry. There’s going to be a lottery. Most of the seats will go to the children.”
He seemed surprised. “A lottery?”
“Yes. The prime minister is overseeing it personally. All children under the age of seventeen will qualify.”
He wore a sick look. “Geoff just turned seventeen two weeks ago.”
Not good.
He grabbed her, his eyes wild. “Jane, you have to get him off Phocaea. Please. I don’t care what it takes. You have the clout. We don’t know anybody else. You have to.”
“It won’t even come to that. We’ll get more ice. Just hang tight.”
“That’s not good enough.”
How could she blame him? He’d lost his firstborn son, on whom he’d pinned all his hopes. If what Sean said was true, his second son had had a major role in helping to save the ice. She might be able to do something with that. Might. “Look, I can’t promise anything for certain. But if it comes down to that, I’ll do what I can. That’s all I can promise.”
He only looked at her. Then he slumped. “That’ll have to do, then. Thank you.” He stood and trudged away among the trees.
* * *
When she got back to the reception, the Agres were nowhere to be seen. Benavidez had also left. Jane wandered among the knots of people. She couldn’t stand to eat a bite of the spread. She made a point of speaking to each of the bereaved, and the families of the injured also there—offering her regrets, repeating her commitment to find out how this had happened and prevent a recurrence. Of