“Actually, Rafe, I’m Governor now. If you don’t mind.”
Murrill waved off Trevor’s obvious scorn and settled into a high-backed leather chair.
“You wear it poorly, Stallion. And you won’t wear it much longer, as you’re about to discover.”
That’s what I thought you’d say.
Especially since Murrill had repeated the threat several times after Trevor took the job.
“Sorry you feel that way,” he said, pouring the whiskey. “Your message said you wanted to end this amicably and quietly, for the good of the station. I assume you have a specific threat you’d like to make this time.”
Trevor chose a facing leather chair. Playing this out with a little theatrical flair wasn’t the worst choice.
“You’re a disaster, Stallion. The station’s reputation will take a devastating blow when the public learns the truth about you.”
“Unless I resign and leave Amity without explanation. Yes?”
Murrill tapped the chair’s arms.
“You see the shape of it. Before I force your resignation, my curiosity demands I ask: Have you enjoyed your brief term in this hallowed sanctum?”
Hallowed sanctum! No one talks like this guy, except for Nexus.
Trevor had not heard from the galactic know-it-all since a brief congratulatory call shortly after his swearing-in.
Might as well answer truthfully, Trevor thought. That will be enough to crawl under the bastard’s skin.
“I’ll admit, it was awkward at first. The suits didn’t fit well, and I missed carrying a sidearm. I’m a badge by trade. But I’ve had sixty days, each one better than the last. Actually, I received some great advice from the President. She told me to make the job my own. Now it fits me, like the clothes.”
Murrill studied Trevor with the apparent relish of a man about to spring his trap.
“Actually, I will have a drink. Stay where you are, Stallion. I’ll fix it.”
Yep. This guy was a piece of work. Everyone in the administrative class brought a certain element of drama to their role, as Trevor discovered – especially when he reorganized Central top-down.
“Fortunately,” Murrill said after pouring his drink, “you haven’t crippled CA so badly I can’t restore my previous order within three or four days. I’ll have to review the master ledgers, of course. The way you’ve redistributed the budget is outrageous.”
He waited for Murrill to sit.
“All I’ve done is refocus Central on its primary mission: Protecting this station. More UCVs for deputies, surveillance tech, and Shadow Gambit. Customs will be next.”
Murrill sipped liquor, crossed his legs, and brushed something off his shoes.
“You always hated men like me, Stallion. But the truth is, you’re more power hungry than anyone who’s ever sat behind that desk.”
“How so?”
“Eliminating the Executive Board? A brazen move and clearly against the Amity Charter.”
If anything, Murrill should have been glad to see them go. The majority turned against him after months of Presidential cajoling.
“Not according to Central’s Superior Judge. I’m accountable directly to the President now. She can fire me on a whim. If she loses the next election, her successor can replace me. One screwup, and I’m gone. I didn’t make it easy for myself.”
“Fortunately, I will. Stallion, you are going to be the shortest-lived Governor in Amity’s history.”
“Twenty-one years,” Trevor reminded. “Only six Governors. Not a huge sample size.”
“Oh, you’re a funny man, aren’t you? Let’s see you laugh your way out of this.”
Murrill raised a holo from his pom. He opened three screens.
“It took me some time to compile the entire inventory. Fortunately, I had just enough markers to call in. First, to the easy ones. You violated thirteen regulations when you secretly handed over Hoshi Oda and Bien Thet to then-SI Director Lana Devonshire.
“You violated their civil rights under the Collectorate Criminal Code. Neither one has been heard from since. And after Devonshire’s recent retirement, she’s not likely to discuss SI’s role unless forced by a Congressional investigation.
“Let’s see here. You withheld vital information about the true nature of Mau Ping’s condition and how specifically it affected you and a group of other station residents. Moreover, you failed to report the true reason why the kidnapping four months ago ended without loss of life. You used residual energy – perhaps something similar to Ping – to overwhelm the terrorists. In the process, you put the station at risk.”
Trevor suspected Murrill knew, so he didn’t act shocked or launch into a disingenuous denial. Only a handful of people could have leaked it. Trevor focused on the same asshole who likely sent an anonymous message to Murrill warning of a conspiracy led by Trevor.
He wasn’t ready to move on those suspicions quite yet. The culprit lived on a short leash.
Trevor allowed Murrill to continue the litany of accusations – so far, each of them spot-on.
“On that same day, you and Harmony Chief Barukh Tasqur violated security protocol by manipulating official spaceport secure cam logs as well as medical records. You eliminated visual evidence regarding the so-called ‘accident’ with Director Devonshire’s shuttle.”
Trevor could have noted that Murrill was in the after-report briefing where Trevor explained the need for a coverup. Something both Murrill and the President agreed upon.
Yet Trevor buttoned his lips as Murrill continued the onslaught.
