then?” Rigney heard himself ask. He was as surprised as anyone to hear his own voice.
Egan glanced at him, then drew her attention back to the crowd. “If things continue as they are, based on historical CDF fatality rates, in three years we’ll no longer have sufficient forces to defend our colonies from predation and genocidal aggression by other races,” she said. “From there, our best estimate is that the Colonial Union as a political entity collapses within five to eight years. Without the overarching protective structure of the Colonial Union, all remaining human planets are attacked and wiped out within twenty years. Which is to say, ladies and gentlemen, that from this very moment, the human race is thirty years from extinction.”
The room was dead silent.
“The reason I’m telling you this is not so you can run home and hug your children,” Egan said. “The reason I’m telling you this is that for more than two hundred years, the Department of State has been the vermiform appendix of the Colonial Union. An afterthought to the CU’s strategy of aggressive defense and expansion.” She stared at DiNovo. “A nice sinecure for mediocrities to be shoved into, where they can do no real harm. Well, all that changes now. The Colonial Union can no longer afford to live the way we’ve lived. We don’t have the resources and we don’t have the people. So from this moment forward the State Department has two missions. One: Bring Earth back into the fold, for the advantage of us both. Two: Whenever possible, avoid conflict with the Conclave and unaffiliated alien races. Diplomacy is the best way to make that happen.
“What that means, ladies and gentlemen, is that from now on, the Colonial Union State Department actually matters. And you, my friends, now all have to work for a living.”
“Do you always squash someone as hard as you squashed DiNovo?” Rigney asked. Theater Seven was now empty; the midlevel diplomats had shuffled out, grumbling to one another. He and Egan were now both standing near the display, which had again shut down.
“Usually,” Egan said. “DiNovo was doing me a favor, actually. For every one like him who is stupid enough to open his mouth, there’s about fifty of these people who keep their traps shut and plan to ignore what I have to say. This way I get to drive the message home to all of them. Marginally more of them will listen to me this way.”
“You think they really are all mediocrities, then,” Rigney said.
“Not all of them,” Egan said. “Most of them. And certainly the ones I have to deal with.” She waved at the empty theater. “These people are cogs. They’re stationed here, pushing the proverbial paper. If they were any good at what they did, they’d be out there in the universe. The ones out there are the A-teams. Hell, they’re the B-teams, too. The ones here are teams C through K.”
“Then you’re not going to like this,” Rigney said. “One of your A-teams has gone missing.”
Egan frowned. “Which one?” she asked.
“Ambassador Bair’s team,” Rigney said. “Along with, I should add, one of our frigates, the Polk.”
Egan was silent for a moment, processing the news. “When did this happen?” she finally asked.
“It’s been two days since there’s been a skip drone sent back from the Polk,” Rigney said.
“And you’re only telling me this now?” Egan said.
“I would have told you sooner, but you wanted me to see you scare the children,” Rigney said. “And two days without drone contact is our standard alarm raiser. Particularly with missions like this one, which are supposed to be secret. I came to find you as soon as we confirmed two days of dead air.”
“What did your recovery mission find?” Egan asked.
“No recovery mission,” Rigney said, and caught Egan’s look. “We had a hard enough time negotiating a military frigate for the mission. If the Utche show up and see several military ships in the area, none of them with diplomats on them, everything blows up.”
“Recon drones, then,” Egan said.
“Of course,” Rigney said. “Everything’s preliminary because the drones have just arrived, but they’re not finding anything.”
“You sent the drones to the correct system,” Egan said.
“Come on, Liz,” Rigney said.
“Doesn’t hurt to ask,” Egan said.
“We sent the drones to the right system,” Rigney said. “We sent the Polk to the right system. The Danavar system is where the Utche wanted to meet.”
Egan nodded. “A system with nothing but gas giants and airless moons. No one