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CHAPTER 43:
In the Spotlight

USSF Office of Scientific Integration

@OSIGenBoatright
Congratulations to Doctor Glenn Shepard on your awards. They are well deserved.

O’Dour @TheOakTree
@OSIGenBoatright, I, for one, would like to shake his hand. I can’t wait to meet him.

ChirpChat, July 2044



Glenn didn’t return to Washington D.C. until after the blistering-hot four-day Fourth of July weekend. He had one week to prepare for the start of Yvette’s court martial; but before that, was due for several meetings with government leaders.

The first would take place at the Pentagon. Glenn had to report to General Boatright for a briefing. He was surprised to see that the E-ring OSI office was full and bustling with activity just one day past a major holiday weekend. It was even more mind-boggling when he saw an organization chart which showed that OSI now comprised a sizeable percentage of the total Space Force!

The meeting with Boatright was brief. He advised that the OSI position with respect to Yvette’s actions was that she was competent, but impaired. He wanted no coverup—only fairness—but they needed the truth. Glenn would likely be called as a witness for the prosecution, and he was to speak as he wished. Nik was listed as a defense witness, but was also likely to be called by the prosecution. Many of their mutual colleagues would be involved, because OSI and Space Force needed to be seen to take the situation seriously—much more seriously than the “Percheron Incident” tribunal.

Which made Glenn’s command performance with several ranking senators and congressmen all that more important. These weren’t to be formal hearings, but informal, relaxed conversations to allow the lawmakers a chance to hear the details from someone who was there. He’d been assigned a team within the OSI public affairs office to assist with those meetings—mostly just scheduling, but a representative would accompany him to each of the meetings. Glenn argued that legal counsel would be better—someone who could tell his “inquisitors” that he was invoking his right to silence.

The general just smiled. A light flashed on the general’s comm board indicating a visitor. He acknowledged the alert and instructed his aide to allow the person to enter.

Boatright rose, and stepped out from behind his desk to greet the visitor. Glenn did likewise, wondering who was so important that the general would interrupt their meeting.

It was Jen, looking beautiful in her uniform.

“Welcome, Major. I was just telling Colonel Shepard that he would have a PAO assistant for his meetings. “Colonel Shepard? Meet your new aide.”

“Uh, sir. Um. I’m not sure how to say this.”

“What, you object to Major Butler? I thought you got along quite well. Quite closely, if I recall.” There was a teasing twinkle in his eyes.

“Ah, yes, sir. We do. Which is the problem. Um, conduct unbecoming?”

“Nonsense. I’ve never seen any hint of inappropriate behavior. You are going to do right by her, are you not?”

“Yes, sir! I mean no, sir! I mean . . .”

“Relax, Shep. Jen’s orders state that she’s been assigned to you specifically because she’s your biographer and knows you better than anyone else. The ‘intimately’ part is implied, and allowed under the circumstances. You are unique, Jen is unique. No other two servicemembers could do this job, so we make allowances.”

“Ah, thank you, sir.”

“Jen isn’t your handler, so much as advisor. I’ve assigned Lieutenant Colonel Richardson as your legal counsel, and he’s briefed her on what to expect, but we really don’t need to worry about that. Speak your mind, tell the truth. If there’s any blowback, Jen’s there to see and hear it. We can deal with it later if we have to—but right now, the important part is that we are transparent, we are cooperating, and we are truthful. That’s the reputation this office needs to have going forward.”

Wow. This was certainly a refreshing change.


The first meeting turned out to be nothing to worry over. They were in Senator Greason’s office, along with two other senators from the Extraterrestrial Operations Committee. The former space executive set the tone, which was relaxed and collegial. Glenn was mostly asked about his experience on Bat, what steps led him to suspect copper toxicity, and how the patients were doing at present. The conversation then turned to questions of which particular roles could be best fulfilled by astronauts with bionic enhancement.

They talked for almost two hours, and while Glenn agreed afterward that it had been a relatively low-stress event, his own anxiety kept him from being overly comfortable. He was also extremely glad Jen was there. Several times, he reached over to hold her hand, then realized they were both in uniform, and pulled his hand back. Greason noticed, winked, and smiled. The others appeared not to notice.

The second meeting was less comfortable, but still not adversarial. The House meeting was held in one of the congressional hearing rooms, with Glenn and Jen seated at a table in front of a curved bench, behind which sat five representatives from the health and space committees. The questions ranged from details about the medical facilities aboard Percheron, to how it felt to ride the first Helicity2 drive. A surprising twist was a question about which state and district had produced the supplies carried on Bat.

Glenn couldn’t answer, but Jen seemed to have that information readily available on her tablet. Glenn was impressed, and so were the congresspersons. Since they were seated behind a table, Glenn could take her hand—and did.

The most problematic meeting was the one that should have been no problem at all. They were invited to a reception at the New Zealand embassy. New Zealand was a member of MOSEC and Mila Katou had family there. While the country couldn’t claim the Space Force officer directly, they were proud of her nonetheless. Mila would be at the reception, briefly, and the event had been set up with the ostensible reason of thanking Glenn for her rescue and life-saving surgery. He was instructed to wear civilian clothes so that he could legally wear the awards presented to him by the French and Japanese governments the previous day. It meant being fitted for a tuxedo just that morning—his previous one was more than five years old, and wasn’t sized for his bionic limbs. Jen wore an absolutely stunning emerald green dress, and his breath caught every time he looked at her.

About halfway through the evening, Katou bid her goodbyes. She was still somewhat weak, but her new bioprinted liver was functioning just fine. She just needed to rest. An aide brought a wheelchair, but she waved him off, requesting that Glenn and Jen walk her to her car. She leaned heavily on Glenn’s arm, particularly when out of sight of the crowd. When they reached the front door, she looked up a Glenn; he was a good ten inches taller, and she motioned for him to lean down. Mila wrapped her arms around his neck, held him for a moment, then gave him a peck on his cheek.

“Thank you,” she said, with tears in her eyes. “I wouldn’t be here without you.” She said her goodbyes to Jen, the two hugged, then she got into her car to return home.

Glenn stood looking up at the sky for a moment, holding Jen by his side. There were a surprising number of stars visible, but then, D.C. had been working to reduce incident artificial light for the past twenty years. A U.S. vice-president had once remarked that it was a shame that the Naval Observatory—which was just across the street from the embassy—couldn’t be used to view the night sky because of the city’s light pollution.

The two stood, arm-in-arm, for several minutes looking at those stars while Glenn processed his feelings about what Mila had said.

Two men came out the front door of the embassy, arguing. Glenn and Jen were off to one side, and the men showed no sign of being aware of their presence.

“Senator, we absolutely must increase our presence in space. All question of resources aside, we can’t have our eggs in only one basket. Diseases travel too far, too fast, and the effects of natural disasters are felt around the world for years after the fact. We need to spread out, colonize planets, moons, asteroids—even go to other stars.”

“Hell, no. We need to stay right where we are and work on solving the problems we have.”

“We can do that. Every major advance in space brings us a corresponding advance in science and engineering. The aeroponics facility on O’Neill showed us how to better grow crops in Africa. The hydroponics fields on the Moon are used to purify air and water for God’s sake!”

“You and all your billionaire buddies need to stop wasting money in space. Stop wasting my constituents’ money, too. You, your MarsX club, and Space Force—and their damned mechanical puppet-man while they’re at it!”

Glenn now recognized one of the men as O’Dour, the tech genius and billionaire who’d started three space industries and was a partner in MarsX. The other—the Senator—he was less sure of.

Senator Walters from Minnesota, came a silent message over his head’s-up display. Jen was tapping at her wristcomm. Go ahead. Get up there—J.

Glenn stepped into the slightly brighter area in front of the door. “And just what do you think Mister O’Dour does, Senator Walters? Fly up to 400 miles, open the hatch and start throwing bricks of gold out the door? Is that how he wastes money in space?”

Walters turned red, but O’Dour just grinned.

“Every single dollar, every yen, pound, euro—whatever—spent on space is spent right here on Earth. Right in your state, even.” Data began to scroll in his vision. That was Jen giving him numbers, dollars, places, and names. “Seven NASA astronauts were born in Minnesota. Those are just the ones who flew before private space industry got involved. The University of Minnesota is currently running five research studies funded by NASA, three funded by DARPA, and two more funded by Space Force. The dialysis tubing and catheters I used on Percheron for dialysis were manufactured by 3M—you might know them as Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing. Every dollar spent on space is actually spent on Earth and represents a job, a wage, a salary . . . and tax dollars for you to spend, Senator.”

Walters was blustering, and turned to leave, but O’Dour grabbed his elbow and turned him back around. “Not yet, Monty. I don’t believe the young man is finished. You do, recognize him, no? Our man of the hour?”

Walters’ eyes went wide, and his face paled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you, Colonel.”

“That’s okay, Senator, you’re a busy man, with your constituents’ best interests at heart. I should let you go.” Glenn smiled.

The senator shook his arm loose from O’Dour’s grasp, turned and hurried away, calling for his driver on his wristcomm.

O’Dour stepped up and grabbed Glenn’s hand. “Well, done, Shep. May I call you Shep? I’m O’Dour. I’m very pleased to meet you.”

Glenn was stunned as he shook the man’s hand. The text cleared from his head’s-up display, leaving only:

My Hero—J.


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