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WE TRAVELLED TO Athens on a regular commercial suborbital flight the next day.
At the Exchange, we were told that Amarru was in damage control and had no time to see us. The press might not yet have understood what had happened—they still spoke of an explosion of an illegal weapons factory—but the military sure hadn’t been fooled that way.
Amarru managed to free her schedule for half an hour to see me. She sat at her desk, looking extremely tired.
She said nothing while I took the seat opposite her.
“Two days until the elections,” she began, and then she pushed her reader across the desk to me. On the screen was a giant headline: Brown Resigns.
I shrugged. “He allowed this to happen. He brought the Zhori to Africa. He allowed Tanaqan to settle. He even encouraged him and gave him
