“I sympathize with your concern for the Chandler and her crew, and your son,” Egan said. Rigney noted wryly that it was Egan, after all, who ended up deploying the sympathy card. “But you are mistaken if you think that attempting to hold Phoenix Station’s shipping hostage is going to work. For one thing, the shipping we get from Phoenix can be replaced by other colonies. For another, the damage you’ll cause Phoenix’s export economy will be immense.” Egan pointed to Schmidt. “Whether Minister Schmidt here wants to tell this to you or not, he and his government will be quickly obliged to nationalize your company. And no matter what, you’d find yourself in court for violating your contracts with the Colonial Union. It’s also entirely possible, because Phoenix Station is the seat of the Colonial Union government, that your attempt to starve it out of existence will be looked on as treason. I don’t think I need to tell you that the Colonial Union is not notably forgiving of that.”
Daquin smiled. “Thank you, Colonel Egan,” he said. “I know a little of your history. I know you were a CEO on Earth. It’s clear we speak the same language. So allow me to offer you the compliment of being equally blunt with you. Your threat of replacing Phoenix shipping with shipping from other colonies is empty. The Colonial Union is weak, Colonel Egan. You’ve lost the Earth and you’re not getting it back. You’re running out of soldiers and the colonies know that when that happens you’re going to start preying on them to fill the Colonial Defense Force ranks. That makes them all nervous, makes them all finally question whether the Colonial Union has come to the end of its usefulness.
“You start ordering shipping from other colonies for Phoenix Station, they’re going to want to know why. And when they find out that it’s because Phoenix is starving you from below, some of them are going to realize how weak you are right now and decide it’s better to break away now than wait until you’ve bled them all a little more. You know that. I know that. You don’t dare show all the other colonies how weak you truly are.”
“A pretty speech that conveniently forgets that your company will be nationalized before that can happen,” Egan said.
“Schmidt,” Daquin said.
“The Phoenix government won’t nationalize Ballard-Daquin,” he said, to Egan. “Right now we’re a coalition government. That coalition is both unpopular and unstable. As bad as Daquin shutting down exports would be, attempting to nationalize the company would be worse. It would fracture the government. The current government would rather be unpopular and in power than unpopular and out of it.”
“The issue could be forced,” Egan said.
“The Colonial Union could force the issue,” Schmidt agreed. “But that is a solution that is worse than the problem, Colonel Egan, Colonel Rigney.” He motioned to Daquin with a slight nod of his head. “Right now you just have one citizen of Phoenix irrationally angry with you. If you force the issue, you’ll have a billion quite rationally angry with you. And that anger will be certain to spread. Jean-Michel is right: The Colonial Union is weak at the moment. You don’t want to advertise the fact.”
“You have a week,” Daquin said.
“Even if we could accept your demands, a week is not nearly enough time,” Rigney said.
“I don’t care what you think is nearly enough time,” Daquin said.
“It’s not about what I think,” Rigney said, more testily than he intended. That, at least, seemed to cut Daquin off. “It’s about the limitations of travel and communication. We don’t live in a science fictional universe, Mr. Daquin. We can’t just zap messages instantaneously from one part of space to another. We have to use skip drones and ships that have to travel to where space is flat before they can leave a star system. Even if we were to start an intensive search and investigation today, the fact of how travel works means we have almost no chance of getting you information in a week. Hell, we are already searching for the Chandler. We still would be lucky to get you information in a week.”
“I’m not moved,” Daquin said.
“I understand that,” Rigney said. “But this, at least, isn’t something that can be negotiated. If you are only giving us a week, you might as well make your power play now, because we will fail you. But if this is actually about your son, Mr. Daquin, then you’re going to give us the time to do our job. And our job is what you want us to do: find the Chandler.”
“How much time,” Daquin said.
“Four weeks.”
“Two weeks.”
“No, Mr. Daquin,” Rigney said. “Four weeks. You know shipping and you know what you can do with your company. I know our ships and what they can do. I’m not bargaining with you. I’m telling you the time we need to do this. Take it or don’t.”
Daquin looked over to Schmidt and to Egan, and then turned back to Rigney. “Four weeks,” he said, and then stood up and walked out of the room.
“You know this is going to end badly for him,” Egan said to Schmidt after he’d gone.
“If all that happens is that it ends badly for him, I will be profoundly grateful,” Schmidt said, and stood himself. “My problem is that I don’t see any way that it doesn’t end badly for all the rest of us.” He turned to Rigney. “At least you’ve given me a little more time to prepare. I should thank you for that, but I don’t think it’s going to matter.” Schmidt excused himself and left.
“Well, this was a fun little meeting,” Rigney said to Egan, when they were alone.
“You going to be able to find this ship in four weeks?” Egan asked.
“I’m going to try,” Rigney said.
“Don’t try,” Egan said. “Do it. Otherwise in a month we’ll all be eating each other alive.”
“Literally,” Rigney said.
“Having that happen literally would be the worst-case scenario,” Egan said.
Acknowledgments