was going to stand out amidst the cut physiques of the other military that would be in attendance. It was the main reason for his discomfort. At the same time, she couldn't help but blame him for his lack of self-restraint when it came to high-calorie, caffeine based drinks. Not with the control she had needed to master to make it this far.
The elevator slowed to a stop, and the doors slid open. The Ball was being held in the Rainbow Room, a classic icon perched at the top of Rockefeller Center. Once upon a time, it had been one of the best views around. While these days it looked into the sides of all the super-scrapers around it, it was still a symbol of American glory, and of better days everyone on the planet believed would come again. The pacts that had led to the construction of the Dove had all but eliminated most of the conflict on Earth and had brought human civilization together in a way nothing else could have.
"Here we go," Michael said, breathing out. He tucked his handkerchief in his pocket and held out his arm to her. She smiled as she took it, allowing him to walk her out into the space.
She had been expecting a crowd, a dance floor filled with Admirals and Generals, Presidents and Prime Ministers. Even so, walking in and spotting so many of the dignitaries she had read about or seen on the streams was more than a little intimidating - even for her. The naming of the Dove's crew was that important, and the stream cameras arranged around the area confirmed it.
"Keep breathing," Michael said.
To himself, or to her? She wasn't sure. Either way, it was good advice.
They made their way deeper into the room. Some of the assembled took notice of them, smiling at her as they passed. She shifted her arm to take Michael's hand. He was cold and clammy.
"How are you staying so cool under this pressure?" he asked.
"I've been shot at," she replied. "Multiple times."
Michael let out a nervous laugh. "True."
"I think our table is over there," she said, pointing toward the front. She could see Yousefi already sitting there, his pregnant wife at his side. He looked her way, raising his hand in greeting when they made eye contact. "There's the Mission Commander."
"Yousefi?" Michael said. "The one you told me about?"
"Yes."
"He looks taller in person. Maybe we can dance first?"
Katherine tugged Michael by the shoulder. "You hate dancing."
"I like it better than meeting Admirals."
"Major Asher, is it?" A voice asked from her left. Katherine turned toward it, finding Vice President Nelson standing beside her.
"Vice President," she said, giving him a light curtsy. He took her hand, expertly kissing the back of it.
"Since you're here, I assume you were selected?" he said.
"Yes, sir," she replied.
"Good. I was worried the American contingent would wind up getting shut out."
"That would have been against the rules."
He smiled. "You know how rules are, don't you, Major?"
Katherine made a split-second decision to decide she knew what he was talking about. "Of course, sir."
"Are you going to introduce me to your husband?" Nelson said, looking at Michael.
"Uh. Not husband, Mister President. Mister Vice President, I mean. Just. Just a friend." Michael smiled, his face turning red.
"If I weren't a married man, I would thank you for that," Nelson said, laughing. "Roger Nelson." He put out his hand.
"Michael Stickley," Michael replied, hesitant to present his clammy hand to the man.
"A pleasure." Nelson reached out and took the hand anyway, shaking it. He moved close to Michael as he did, but Katherine could still hear what he said.
"If you want her, don't let her leave without saying so, son."
Michael's color deepened even more. "Yes, sir," he muttered, glancing uncomfortably at Katherine.
She was amused by the whole thing. There was no possibility of that happening. She was married to her career, and he was married to his technology.
Nelson turned back to her. "I know you'll do us proud, Major."
"Yes,