Chapter 10: President Exposed

Like most of the planet, the tiny land mass of Pearson Island was tropical. The eastern half of the island was devoted to an airfield with two runways pointing in the most common wind directions; the western half held several cottages, a couple of storage sheds, and small shacks for the press and other various necessary functions. Dividing the island in its pinched middle was a large, airy building that functioned as a meeting centre and a banquet hall. Palm trees swayed in the small breeze and noisy but colourful birds made a raucous song in the bushes scattered along the perimeter of the walkways. Gentle waves lapped along the sand beach that girdled the land mass. Being as the island was so small, the only vehicles were those required for the airfield. Only the emergency vehicles were normal size.

Mike flew out with both Spica II's First Minister Aiko Yamada and Foreign Minister Kurt Meier. Yuki and Al had flown on ahead, Yuki to look after things for President Yamashita and Minister of Foreign Relations Thomas Kinkade, and Al to see to the sudden flood of press. It was the first time that Mike had had a chance to chat with Aiko Yamada, who turned out to be a delightful conversationalist.

"This is the first time we've had a chance to make use of this island," she advised him, as the water whipped by beneath the stubby-winged atmospheric shuttle. "I won't insult the rest of the universe by wondering why." She flashed him one of her famous, warm grins.

"I think I took my own President aback, there," Mike responded. "She seemed to be expecting to just have some video-screen meetings, then have the treaty signed while I was aboard the Lister — and temporarily dressed — and finally she and the other two parties leave orbit, mission accomplished, without setting foot on Spica II. I don't believe she understood her course of action meant she'd be shortly covered in nothing but sun block, and in front of interplanetary media at that."

All three of them had a good chuckle over that.

"I understand that there's been quite the interest raised across all the settled star systems, Mr. First Minister."

"Yes," she nodded. "Not only are the local channels selling data packets across the Interstellar News Service, we've got teams coming from a variety of planetary systems."

"This 'Diplomacy Island' is quite the concept. Normally the Solaris Federation would book a luxury hotel in a large city for such an event, or hold it at the President's official retreat on Earth."

"Well, we had the island available, a little small for anything else much but very pretty, handily close to the Capitol but far enough away for complete privacy, and there are tremendous security advantages in providing us with absolute control over who goes anywhere near it. I must confess this is the first time it's actually been used for its original intent of interstellar diplomacy."

Kurt added, "The name we gave the island honours one of the early winners of the Nobel Peace Prize, back before the Interstellar Age. We thought it fitting that a place dedicated to peaceful resolutions of issues should bear the name of someone who worked so hard to preserve peace."

"Mr. First Minister?" An air hostess hovered behind Aiko Yamada's shoulder, dressed in a Spica Defence Force full dress uniform: collar, cuffs at the wrist, and sandals. "The pilot reports we're approaching the runway. Could we ask you to fasten your restraints?"

The trio quickly finished downing their coffees and handed the empty cups back to the air hostess as the shuttle banked and began to glide in, smooth as silk.

The island Mike found to be hot and humid. When the craft landed and the door opened, Mike saw a line of Defence Force soldiers drawn up in salute, powerless drill blaster rifles held stiffly in front of them. Like the air hostess, they wore collars and cuffs, only instead of the light blue of the Air Command, theirs were the tan of the Land Command. Like the soldiers and sailors of the Solaris Federation, the Spica II military was a determinedly mixed-gender, all volunteer force. Unlike the Solaris Federation, there were far fewer of them, Spica II being far less heavily populated than the Solaris Federation and not being into military expansionism. They also did triple duty as the civilian world's Federal Police Force and air, sea and orbital traffic control.

After the three of them, accompanied by the scowling commanding officer, finished inspecting the platoon, they climbed into an electric cart which took off at a heart-stopping clip for the cottages. There, Mike took his leave of his hosts and checked out the condition of the cottages. Could be worse, he supposed.

t had been designed to replicate a casual seaside retreat for a family. The whitewashed walls made the wooden structure look cool and appealing. There were five bedrooms, which had been allocated according to size, a small kitchenette and a comfortable if basic living room. Fresh flowers decorated the coffee table and ceiling fans lazily moved the air.

Yuki indicated the building behind: another, smaller cottage for additional staff. There were two other cottages the same size beside them, and on the other side of a dining hall another three, each with a similar supplementary sleeping quarters building behind. A large grassy lawn stretched in front of the row of buildings, providing a recreational area which could double in a pinch as a VTOL landing pad. Off behind the grouping of buildings was a small guard shack that stood beside a staircase providing comfortable access to the beach.