I don’t want to resign. I have to stay to be close to Ana.
Then fight for what’s yours, T.
I’m afraid of what I’ll do if I stay in the job too long. Murrill was corrupt, and I’d bet every Governor before him was the same. Maybe he took the job with the best of intentions and it got away from him. It happens. The more I tighten my hold on the office, the tighter I wanna grip. Where does it stop?
Maybe it doesn’t. You’ll be paranoid till your last breath. You’ll always have enemies looking to bring you down. That’s the problem with power: It’s in limited supply but there’s a heavy demand.
So I just keep fighting off every comer until no one challenges me anymore?
It’s the job of your life, bruv. Fight with everything you have. You’re a Chancellor. You were built to lead.
Trevor opened his eyes and checked his vitals.
He’d done enough Fit Room for today.
“I’ll give it my best, C,” he muttered while toweling off.
After he showered and changed, Trevor received a notice on his pom. Spaceport Control confirmed Rafe Murrill’s ship arrived on Qasi Ransome. He’d become one less thorn.
For now.
Some new curse undoubtedly waited its turn.
Trevor settled on a bench at his locker and studied his afternoon schedule. His stomach growled.
Damn. I knew I shouldn’t have passed up lunch.
After Maintenance concluded its confab, Trevor was wired. He sent an apology to Shireena about missing lunch and headed to the Haven Fit Room so he’d be closer to his next engagement. Now there wasn’t time to grab anything other than some quick noodles from a kiosk. He had a ribbon cutting to attend.
“You were crunching it out there.”
Trevor snapped out of his trance. How did he miss Chief Ramesh Suhl toweling off two lockers away?
“Oh, hey! Ramesh. Twice in a day. Yes. I overdid it.”
“Stressed, I’d wager. Needed to work it off.”
“The job. Yeah. It’s nonstop.”
“Understand. This wasn’t my usual window, but I needed to lose the stress. No security problems in Haven, you understand. Just the management.” Ramesh chuckled. “The responsibilities. I wasn’t exactly qualified for the job when you promoted me.”
Trevor closed his locker.
“Oh, you’re doing great. The deputies love working for you. That’s nine-tenths of the job.”
“I’m faking my way through it, so to speak. And you?”
A loaded question. He searched for the quickest, wittiest answer.
“It helps that I can drink on the job and nobody’s the wiser.”
Ramesh slapped his knee.
“Good one, Trev.”
“Speaking of, I need to hurry to my next engagement. If I know my Chief of Staff, he’s standing outside the Fit Room becoming more than a little antsy.”
“Oh, yes,” Ramesh said. “The Riyadhi restaurant. It’s a big deal. I thought about attending, but Mr. Portnois said the red and silver might rub the owner the wrong way, given recent history.”
Sounds about right. Andreas: Ever mindful of the optics.
“He might be right. But it wouldn’t hurt to visit in civvies after your shift. Just to say hello. Make them feel at home. They need to know the HVSA will look after them as faithfully as everyone else.”
“Good idea. I don’t know much about Riyadhi cuisine, but I can give it a go.”
Nice guy, that Ramesh. Probably not the fellow any other Governor would have promoted, but Trevor was happy with the decision. An affable man could make the tough calls, too.
Trevor shifted his brain into Governor-mode and headed out. He’d have just enough time to slurp down some kiosk noodles, catch a rifter, and make the ribbon cutting.
Andreas, however, planned further ahead.
As predicted, he waited outside the Fit Room, a sealed lunch from Central’s dining room in one hand and ubiquitous tablet in the other.
“Never skip a meal, sir. Balanced nutrition on a predictable cycle will keep you at your peak.” He handed over the meal. “It’s a mild lamb curry with a side of devlin beans. There’s bread for dipping.”
Shit. How did he know?
“A favorite. Thanks, Andreas. You’d make a great mother.”
