Earth Afire (The First Formic War)

classic Father. He fed the reporters my story of how I took on the Formics in the Kuiper Belt to make me out as a hero. He’s trying to boost public opinion of me so he can use me to sell the glaser. He’s doesn’t want a son. He wants a celebrity endorsement. And you know what? You know what the saddest part of that whole scenario is? I actually fell for it. For a fleeting moment I actually entertained the idea that those misty eyes of his at the terminal were real. Which is ridiculous. He arranged the whole thing. It was a performance. A fabrication. He set the stage. He brought in the audience. He called action.”
    “Let me get this straight,” said Simona. “You’re the celebrity of a celebrity endorsement?”
    He folded his arms across his chest. “You’re mocking me.”
    “I’m trying to follow your train of thought,” she said. “I’m not questioning your celebrity status. Son of the wealthiest man in the world. Hounded by the paparazzi in his earlier years. Voted most eligible bachelor by some teenage-centric pop zines on the nets. Good hair. White teeth. I can see why you might reach these conclusions.”
    He turned around and started walking again.
    She hustled to keep up. “Okay, you’re right. I was mocking you. But I shouldn’t. Because you’re partially right.”
    He stopped and faced her.
    “But only partially,” she said. “Your theory’s wrong in a lot of ways.”
    “Enlighten me.”
    She sighed. “Your father does want you to tout the glaser. He does want to give it a lot of attention. But not to sell it. He’s trying to convince the U.S. not to kill themselves.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “It’s faster if I show you.” She gestured him to follow and turned down a side corridor. They walked twenty meters and went through the first door they came to. It was a conference room with a holotable in the middle. A team of six engineers was studying a holo of some intricate mechanical part in the air between them. One of them was poking it with his stylus and leading the discussion.
    “I need this room,” said Simona.
    The engineers looked at her and then at Lem. Then they turned to the chief engineer with the stylus, clearly the most senior among them.
    “Now?” the chief engineer asked.
    “No, yesterday at brunch,” said Simona. “Yes. Now.”
    “But we reserved this room.”
    “And I’m unreserving it,” said Simona. “Now please leave.” She snapped her fingers again, and the engineers hopped to it, gathering their things and hustling out the door. They knew who she was and to whom she reported.
    When they left, Lem said, “You have such a pleasant way about you.”
    “It worked, didn’t it?” She moved to the holotable, wiped the holo away, and entered a series of codes and gestures. A ship appeared in the holospace, smooth and small, with a long tube-shaped device mounted on its underside.
    “This is the Vanguard drone,” said Simona. “The biggest product launch we’ve had in years. It’s a prospecting drone, designed to seek out viable asteroids. If it finds something worth digging, it alerts us, and we send a manned craft out there to dig up the lugs. It’s been in development for over a decade.”
    “Why have I never heard of it?” asked Lem.
    “It was on a need-to-know basis. You weren’t on the list. Try not to be offended.”
    “Okay.”
    “Your father introduced the Vanguard to the world literally minutes before he found out about the Formics. Ukko was not pleased. The Vanguard was set to reignite the company. The interference had been killing business for months. We had two dismal quarters. Stockholders were antsy. We needed a victory. The announcement of the Formics couldn’t have come at a worse time. It threw the Board into panic mode. Everyone knew the news would eclipse any momentum we might have gained with the Vanguard.”
    “Sounds like the Board,” said Lem. “More concerned about the bottom line than about an imminent alien invasion and the possible annihilation of the human race. Classy. What’s this tube underneath the drone?”
    “That’s the glaser,” said Simona.
    “Glaser? You have more than one prototype?”
    “There’s only one prototype, and it’s on your ship. This is the real thing. Your father moved the glaser into production as soon as we heard that you had a successful field test in the Kuiper Belt about nine months ago.”
    “You moved it into production?” said Lem. “But we