Neil Fitzgerald watched the blue-white globe slowly fill up his display as the spaceplane he was in moved closer to it. He saw nothing in this image that he had not seen during several dozen other trips down to Earth. It was the boredom he was experiencing that caused him to stare at the visage on the monitor. Neil had gone through this dissent on more occasions than he could recall without a laborious mental tally. He knew that the trip was too short for reading and just long enough to strain his patience.

For Neil, trips down to Earth always involved a task that he needed to perform. He always limited his presence on the planet to as short a time as possible. His home aboard the Starship Berenberg had him spoiled for the comforts that came with being a spacer. This was a condition that Earth could not come close to matching in its present state. The crowded cities, and the poor waste management, along with the frequent interactions with insects and the infrequent encounters with rodents turned all his time out of doors into unpleasant experiences. These distractions were immensely disagreeable for most spacers. Neil’s sensibilities found these occurrences more unsettling than most male spacers would.

Despite his distaste for his visits to Earth, Neil was happy with his situation. He knew that there was an army of people jockeying for position as his replacement and for similar postings. The position of Delegate to an Earth State was an important high profile job. It also provided the person doing the job with an up-close view of the inner workings of Earth politics. Neil had high expectations for this position. He saw it as a pathway to a BX01 Board of Director seat in the distant future. Until then he was prepared to accept all that he did as dues to be paid towards that ambition.

On this day, Neil was on his way to Thames. This was his usual destination on Earth. He was the Delegate with the best track record with the Thames Government. The most important missions to this State were always assigned to him. This was a distinction that he had worked hard to attain. He perceived each trip down to Thames as an opportunity to reaffirm his importance to the BX01 Starcorp League.

The dissent down to the Thames Spaceport took little more than forty minutes from start to finish. Less than a minute after the spaceplane’s wheels touched down on the tarmac, the zero-gravity field was turned off. Neil took comfort from the sensation of Earth’s gravity. The perception of control that he had when there was gravity was preferable to the alternative.

After the spaceplane had settled into its parking space, it took Neil little more than five minutes to secure himself and his belongings inside a waiting electric vehicle. In appearance, it looked like an upsized minivan. It had soft rounded corners and seams in the vehicle could not be found seen from a distance. The rounded corners gave it the appearance of molded glass. It looked as if it could have just been driven off the showroom floor moments before. The spacious interior exuded luxury. The passenger compartment had facing seats. The driver’s compartment was separated by a window. A small storage compartment was at the rear of the vehicle. Ten seconds after the last door was shut, the chauffeur for the car drove off to a predetermined destination. Neil sat alone in the back seat. The driver was a well-dressed man that spoke only when he was spoken to.

Within five minutes, Neil’s transport was merging onto a motorway. Traffic on the motorway was sporadic. A heavy midday overcast hung over a congested landscape of multi-level buildings. The visage of urban sprawl extended out in all directions for as far as the eye could see. The gloom of the thick gray clouds seemingly mirrored the dense megalopolis below it. The motorway that Neil was traveling upon was pristine by comparison to the concrete jungle to either side. The well-maintained roadway was uncluttered with pedestrian and the debris that they often left behind.

The vehicle was expected to reach its destination in no more than a quarter of an hour. Neil sat back in silence and waited for this time to pass. He resisted the urge to strum his fingers along the armrest. Being summoned down to Earth was a rare event for him. He could recall two other occasions when his presence was requested by the Prime Minister of Thames. In both recollections, the reason for the meeting was communicated in the summons. In this case, Neil had no idea why he had been called down to meet with him. Normally, this would not give him reason to be apprehensive, but there was a secondary oddity that was casting a shadow onto this summons. During the previous nine days, Prime Minister Hagerman had not been seen in public. Only his immediate family and closest staffers could attest to continued existence. To accomplish this disappearing act, he had to cancel half a dozen high-level meetings. Speculation that he was in ill health was circulating throughout Thames and around the world. This was occurring despite repeated assurances from the Prime Minister’s Press Secretary that this was not the case. In the summons, Peter Carr, Minister of State for Thames, assured Neil that Hagerman was still functional and said nothing more on the subject. However, it was Carr’s reluctance to give any explanation for Hagerman’s absence or the reason for the summons that gave Neil cause to be suspicious.

Ten minutes after steering the vehicle onto the motorway the driver began making his exit. The vehicle settled to a stop at the end of the junction. A red light held the chauffeur in check. Other than that, there was little else to stop him from driving on. Vehicular traffic was almost nonexistent. Thirty seconds later the light turned green and the chauffeur turned the car onto the surface street. It took him another seven minutes to direct the vehicle to a three-story brick home. A modest amount of open ground was situated all around the building. Bordering that was a seven-foot-high decorative brick wall. Two police officers were standing guard outside a large ornate front gate, and a second pair of officers were one the other side. In response to a hand signal from an approaching officer, the chauffeur lowered his window. He identified himself and his passenger to the officer and was authorized for admittance an instant behind that. One minute later Neil was standing outside the front door and waiting for someone to answer his ring.

“Please come in, Mr. Fitzgerald,” a tall, elegant, woman of senior years invited after opening the front door.

Neil recognized the woman as Natalie Hagerman, the wife of the Prime Minister of Thames. They had interacted with each other, socially, on many occasions. He responded to her invite by stepping through the doorway with a smile. A second after entering just beyond the front door, he and Natalie exchanged greetings and inquiries about each other’s health and family. Natalie’s response to the latter was that her family was doing well, “for the most part.” Neil took special note of this reply but asked nothing more on the subject. He was not given time to say more. Natalie turned about and began leading him to the room where her husband was waiting.

“Have a seat,” James extended after Neil had walked three steps into his study.

A second behind this, Natalie gave her husband a smile and backed out of the room, closing the door after her. Neil took a seat opposite James in a large leather lounge chair. The chairs were situated near an ornate fireplace of moderate size.

“Can I get you one?” James questioned as he displayed his glass of whiskey out in front of him.

“Yes,” Neil accepted with a nod of his head.

Without a second thought, James pushed himself up from his chair and set off for the alcohol bar that was situated along the wall on the other side of the room. As he did this, Neil scrutinized him for signs of impairment. He noted how James arose from his chair with the ease and vigor that he normally displayed. He watched the Prime Minister walk across the study with the gait of a man that looked to be well rested and in need of the movement so that he could stretch his legs. He noticed that James was comfortably dressed in loose fitting slacks, a long sleeved knit shirt, and loafers, attire that he did not associate with a person that was sick. His demeanor appeared to be as calm and as pleasant as it had ever been. By Neil’s assessment, there were no signs that James was ill or had been so in the recent past.

James returned to Neil with a half-full tumbler of Blended Scotch Whiskey and extended it out before him. Neil took it in hand with a nod and a “thank you.” After this, James retook his seat across from his visitor. Neil scrutinized him as he downed a gulp of his whiskey. He took a moment to savor its smoothness. A second behind this he set his glass down on the end table next to him and commenced the task of speaking his thoughts.

“Okay, why am I here?”

“I’m going up—now,” James declared in a flat tone and with a blank stare.

Neil was taken aback by this declaration. He was not sure what he was hearing. His mind understood what this statement suggested, but he was reluctant to believe it. He began to entertain the thinking that he was speaking of something, entirely, different and that he was misconstruing his verbiage. This remained a plausible idea throughout the brief pause between James’ first declaration and his second.

“Me, my wife, my children and their children—you’re going to make it happen,” James continued with the same weight of determination. “You talk to whomever you have to, but you make it happen.”

After this statement, there was no doubt in Neil’s mind regarding the meaning behind James’ words. The Prime Minister of Thames was demanding that he and his family be allowed to immigrate up into a starcorp. It was not uncommon for earthbound politicians to migrate up into a starcorp. This was a gift routinely given to influential political leaders that were friendly to them. Neil was fully aware that Prime Minister Hagerman was offered and had accepted an invitation to migrate up into a starcorp at some point in his future. It was the timing that had him stunned with disbelief.

Ten months earlier Hagerman was reaffirmed as the Prime Minister of Thames when the party that he led won the General Election. This was the fourth successive General Election that he participated in as the party leader and their fourth successive win. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that it was his popularity that was holding his party in control of the Government. No one inside or outside of the starcorps entertained the idea that he would make a request to migrate up into a starcorp at this time. This was not done by a politician that was still in office. They knew that the starcorps needed them where they were.

Invariably these immigration guarantees were arranged so that an earthbound politician could take advantage of them at the end of their political careers. The BX01 Starcorp League dangled this offer before them with the implicit proviso that they would have to earn it by supporting starcorp policies when called on to do so. Most political leaders on Earth that were friendly to the starcorps made this trade. Most saw it as a kind of insurance policy they could exercise if things went bad on Earth. Despite this agreement, when asked to support something they thought was politically damaging, it was not uncommon for an earthbound leader to balk on their word. Despite this, it was understood that the politician’s past and future assistance to the starcorps sustained the agreement between them.

These favors between Spacers and Earthers were commonplace transactions. One or more ex-political leader migrated up to a starcorp every year. Other than this, there was no overt proof of this quid-pro-quo practice, but everyone suspected these deals were being made behind closed doors. Even though these agreements were regular occurrences, no political leader dared to openly declare his or her participation in one of these transactions while they were still in office. They all knew this would be an act of political suicide. In this James Hagerman was no different than any other political leader that was secretly negotiating with the starcorps. He preached his devotion to Earth, and to Earthers while preparing to immigrate up into a starcorp in his post-politicial life.

“Prime Minister, you’ve just won your fourth election to this office. You can’t be considering this now,” Neil implored with a stunned expression.

“I’m past considering,” James corrected solemnly. “I need you to do this now.”

“Maybe when you finish this…”

“No,” James contradicted in a stern voice and with a shake of his head. “It has to be now.”

Neil was taken aback by the urgency that was suggestive in this last remark. His mind jumped to the question, why now, and he put this to the Prime Minister shortly after the thought.

“I’m going to die,” James reported blandly. “My doctor says the strokes will happen more often. He tells me that they will increase in frequency and harm until one of them is so acute that it will kill me on the spot despite my preventive medication.”

This report took Neil by surprise. He had no immediate response to it. He knew, assuming this report was true, that James’ only hope for survival was with the starcorps. He knew this to be true because it was beyond the capability of earthbound hospitalization to undo the wear and tear that came with aging. The best that Earth medicine could do was repair and reinforce the human body. Rejuvenating it to the height of its vigor required the kind of high tech and high priced hospitalization that could only be found in space. This fact made it difficult for him to formulate a counter argument but not impossible.

“Prime Minister,” Neil supplicated. “You’re still riding high in the polls. You’re hugely popular across a third of the globe. We need you to lead the opposition against this One for All/All for One Pact that the Alberta Alliance is spearheading.”

“It’s time,” James insisted with a finite inflection. “I want out. Get someone else to fight your battles. I’m out. It’s over.”

Neil gave this a second of thought as he shook his head in disbelief. At the end of this, he began to deliver his response in a delicate tone of voice.

“This would be a dangerous move for the starcorps. I don’t think…”

Before he could finish his thought, James interrupted him with a barrage of words spoken in a strident tenor.

“You owe me this. I paid for this with fifty years of my life. I don’t give damn how this will affect the starcorps. I want what you owe me—what you promised.”

This demand transformed Neil’s demeanor into frustration. The last thing he wanted to do was go back to his bosses and report that their most valued ally on Earth, the person he was assigned to manage, wanted out. For several seconds, he aggressively searched for some mechanism that might give him leverage with James. Shortly, he concluded that soft talking James was not going to get him the result that he wanted. An instant behind this he formulated a bold response and delivered it with a tinge of finality.

“No, my recommendation to the board will be that you complete this term.”

James took in this reply with no visage that he had been fazed by this answer. He paused, behind this declaration, took a long deep breath and then commenced his response with a casual delivery.

“If I don’t get this I will throw all of my support behind the United Front Pact. And that will be just the beginning. You will do this or I will become your biggest problem.”

Neil was stupefied by this declaration. For several seconds, he did not know how to react or respond. Subconsciously he feared to aggravate the situation by challenging the resolution behind his words. Still, he could not bring himself to acquiesce to James’ demand. He resisted this despite his belief that the BX01 Starcorp League would elect to give in to James in the end. He knew from experience that the League would rather concede to James’ demand than send a message to other earthbound politicians that they could not be counted on to keep their promise.

The possible repercussion from this act was the largest worry for Neil. He feared that much of the political leverage that the starcorps had accrued on Earth would be undone by this single event. It was generally accepted by the members of the BX01 Starcorp League that it was unwise to give citizenship to a sitting earthbound politician that was friendly to the starcorps. It was believed smarter to wait until they were well into their post public lives and attention to them had greatly diminished. This was the opposite of James Hagerman’s situation. Neil had no doubt that most the Earth’s human residents would view James’ midterm migration into a starcorp as proof that he sold them out. Just the same, he could see no way around it. He knew that if James gave his support to the United Front Pact, then the anti-starcorp militants would be one large step closer to shaping the nature of relations between Earth and the starcorps.

“Okay, Neil agreed at the end of a short rumination. “I’ll tell my superiors. Can you give us a week to think it over?”

“You’ve got two days to get back to me with the answer I want,” James instructed without a moment of hesitation.

“Okay, two days.”

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