Earth Afire (The First Formic War)

stepped away from the lectern, and gestured to Prescott, who came forward and introduced himself.
    “It’s running on every feed,” said Simona, who was tapping at her wrist pad.
    “Our investigation began,” said Prescott, “when we initiated an analysis of purported evidence uploaded onto the nets concerning an alleged alien vessel. Much of this evidence was dismissed by members of the press, but our team of researchers continued to analyze it nonetheless.”
    It was a bold statement to make. Yet Victor saw the wisdom of it. The world would want to place blame; people would be angry. They’d demand to know why they hadn’t been told sooner and why they had been given so little time to prepare. By subtly slapping the media on the wrist, Ukko was doing preemptive damage control and deflecting any blame from himself.
    The press conference went on for an hour, with various members of Ukko’s team taking the microphone to present evidence and answer questions. Victor and Imala watched the subsequent news coverage as anchors regurgitated Ukko’s announcement. There were rumors that the director of STASA was preparing a statement. The president of the U.S. had called a press conference. The Politburo in Beijing was deliberating. The secretary-general of the United Nations would be making a statement shortly. Eventually Victor turned off the broadcast, and the room went silent.
    “What’s going to happen now?” he asked Simona.
    “The U.N. will hold its summit. STASA will spring into action. Nations of the world will pledge their support, and every politician with a spark of intelligence and an eye on the next election will scramble to praise Mr. Jukes and his team.”
    “What about the ship?” Victor asked. “Will they ready a fleet to destroy it?”
    Simona shrugged. “Too early to say. What matters is that it’s not your problem anymore. You two are free to go. As of right now, your services with Juke Limited are no longer required. Mr. Jukes wishes to express his deep gratitude for your tireless assistance, and as a token of his thanks he is giving you the use of a Juke shuttle to fly you to Midway station. You’ll return the shuttle there and secure your own passage out to the Kuiper Belt.”
    Victor couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re giving me a shuttle?”
    “On loan. To get you to Midway. You said yourself you wanted to find your family.”
    “Yes but … what’s the catch?”
    “No catch. Mr. Jukes recognizes the sacrifices you’ve made, and he is all too eager to return the favor and reunite you with your family. I’m to take you both to the dock immediately.”
    “Both of us?” said Victor.
    “Imala will be accompanying you. She’ll pilot the shuttle. It’s not a ship you’re familiar with.”
    Victor looked at Imala and saw at once from her expression that she had already agreed to this. “How can you possibly consider this?” he asked. “Your career. Your family. You don’t want to come with me. It’s a six-, seven-month trip to Midway.”
    “They asked me,” said Imala. “It’s the least I could do after everything you’ve done for us. You shouldn’t be traveling alone.”
    “But I don’t have to travel alone,” said Victor. “A ship to myself is generous, but it’s unnecessary. Surely there are still transports leaving for the Belt. And if not, there will be now. A lot of people will want to get as far away from Earth and Luna as possible until this is over. Why not put me on one of those ships and be done with it? Why give me a whole shuttle?”
    “Mr. Jukes wants you riding in comfort,” said Simona. “Money is no object.”
    Victor didn’t know what to say. A shuttle. All the way to Midway. For free. It was more than he could have asked for. It was too good to be true.
    And then he realized it was too good to be true.
    “Ukko isn’t doing this out of generosity,” he said. “He’s doing it to get rid of me. That’s what this is. He keeps me here under house arrest and then he ships me out as soon as the announcement is made? On a shuttle with just Imala? Away from anyone I might relay my story to? This isn’t a gift. It’s a muzzle. He doesn’t want me talking to anyone, especially the press. He doesn’t want me telling them that his son is a murderer. He’s protecting Lem by making me disappear. Tell me if I’m getting warm here.”
    “Or perhaps Mr. Jukes is genuinely grateful and you’ve misjudged him,” said