Sentience 1: Storm Clouds Gathering (20 page)

Processing of recommissioning and reenlistment of Northern Fleet personnel, as well as the routing and movement of men and material, will experience unprecedented levels of lost and misdirected orders, further delaying Northern invasion preparations and promoting discontent within the ranks.

“Sounds like plans are percolating along nicely, Hal. Any problems worth mentioning?”

Not at this time, Diet. I am optimistic that Operation Robin Hood will succeed, as planned.

The White House

Musing over his daily briefing reports, President James Buchwald couldn’t help but be saddened by the Separatist rhetoric coming out of the Deep South. The president’s news wasn’t filtered through the Northern media’s political philosophies like everyone else’s. He had the facts at his disposal, and damned if he didn’t have to agree with them. Everything they were saying was the gospel truth. Secession probably was the only way the South might ever get out from under the Consortium’s thumb, and be free to chart their own destiny again.

It’s going to happen, and it’s going to happen on MY watch. Goddamn J.P. Aneke and his Consortium thugs, and all of the corrupt federal employees he’s bought and paid for, all to hell!

The President of the United Stellar Alliance was startled to suddenly realize there would likely to be a civil war breaking out in his country in the near future — and that his personal sympathies lay with the rebels.
Whoever the Consortium puts into this chair to replace me will certainly not hesitate to employ massive military force to bring the secessionists back under federal control. All right, if aligning myself against the Consortium be treason, so be it. How can I help those poor bastards down South in what little time I have left as president? Who can I trust?

One name floated up from his subconscious — Fleet Admiral Roger Kalis.

“Good morning, Admiral Kalis. Please be seated,” said President James Buchwald, as Kalis entered the president’s private working office. Kalis was resplendent in his dark blue Fleet uniform, with its gold braid and covered in countless decorations for gallantry during the past three interplanetary wars where Alliance forces had been deployed. He was slight of build, standing only five feet, seven inches tall, but was a giant within the Alliance Fleet. He wore his steel gray hair a bit longer than most Fleet personnel wore theirs, with a matching short, well-groomed beard that also made him somewhat unusual amongst Fleet officers.

As the admiral seated himself across from the president’s desk, Buchwald looked towards the Secret Service agent standing near the door. “A little privacy, if you please, Fred.”

“Mr. President, I am under orders not to let you out of visual range. We don’t want to lose you the way we lost Attorney General Levin.”

“I appreciate that, Fred, but go anyway.”

“But, Mr. President, I am under direct orders from Chief Agent Marnaky to remain here.”

“In case you haven’t noticed before now, I happen to outrank Chief Agent Marnaky,” Buchwald said with low menace in his voice. “Now, either you plant your ass outside that door right now, or you and Chief Agent Marnaky will both be shoveling elephant shit at the National Zoo tomorrow morning!”

Secret Service Agent Fred Barnes swallowed and said, “Yes, sir, Mr. President,” and left. Buchwald rose, went to the door and made a show of engaging the security system. “Now we can speak freely, Admiral. This room is as secure as any of your vaults over at the Heptagon.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. President,” said Kalis. “Just what is it you wished to see me about?”

“As I remembered that you’re from Tensee originally, I want your input on this Separatist movement going on down there, from a Southerner’s prospective.”

Kalis’ eyes narrowed. Knowing that he should be careful, he couldn’t help but speak from his heart to his Commander-in-Chief. “Mr. President, I have served my country all my adult life. I joined the Fleet as a Spacer Apprentice and climbed the ladder, rung by rung, until I hit five-star admiral.

“I have fought in three interplanetary wars and earned enough salad” — pointing to the ten rows of ribbons on his chest — “to open my own health-food restaurant. I have proven my loyalty time and again, but loyalty is a two-way street, Mr. President. Today, I hardly recognize the country I have loved, served and fought for... and neither do any of the other Southerners I know.

“Everywhere I go, I see poverty, destitution and desperation. It didn’t used to be that way. Tensee was a thriving planet until the Northerners rammed that
Alliance First
bullshit through congress, despite everything the South could do to stop it. That entire region of the country has been viciously plundered by those Northern industrial pirates ever since. The South has no political voice in congress anymore. They’re totally at the mercy of whatever money-grabbing scheme those Consortium bandits decide to have Congress pass for them.

“The people of the South have lost all hope for their future in this country. So you tell me, Mr. President... how should I feel about the Separatist movement down there?” Kalis’ eyes virtually blazed at the President of the United Stellar Alliance.

“I’m sorry if I hit a nerve, Admiral, but I kind of expected you’d feel that way,” President Buchwald said quietly. “I don’t blame you at all. I’ll confess, just between us, I don’t recognize my country any more, either.

“The Consortium and their ilk in Congress have hamstrung my entire presidency. The United Stellar Alliance and the dream it stood for has been hijacked by greed. The unquenchable thirst for power and ill-gotten gains by a group of greedy men and women has made virtual slaves out of over one-third of our fellow countrymen. They have brought us to the brink of our nation tearing itself apart. Now, my question to you is, what do we do about it?”

Kalis looked at the president and judged him sincere. The real question was, how sincere was he? “Do you believe there’s a way to save our nation and avoid secession, Mr. President?”

Buchwald looked directly into Kalis’ eyes for about ten seconds before shaking his head sadly and answering, “No. I see no way. The corruption that has overtaken our beloved country cannot be rooted out before the nation implodes. If the people of the South are ever to escape the depravity of the Consortium and their congressional cronies, it is evident they have no choice but to secede from the Union.

“Unfortunately, whoever succeeds me in this chair will undoubtedly use the military to drag the South back, kicking and screaming. A number of prominent congressional leaders are already pressuring me to redeploy the Fleet, with a strong presence throughout the South to intimidate them into behaving.

“That’s our problem — how is the South to maintain their independence, after they declare it? The South has no military. The Fleet will crush them. How do we stop that, Admiral?”

Kalis turned and seemingly spoke into thin-air. “Bozo, have you been following this?”

I have indeed, Admiral. It has been a most enlightening conversation.

Buchwald’s mouth dropped open. He then bowed his head in resignation. “Well, you certainly had me fooled, Admiral. I’m not sure how it was you managed to bypass the security of this room, but obviously you have, and my comments have been recorded. When does the goon squad arrive to arrest me?”

Oh, we have no intention of having you arrested, Mr. President. We’d much rather recruit you.

Troxia Station, in orbit around the Rak Planet Troxia

Drix was stunned to learn that the deadly aliens of Varq’s terrible prophecy had already been discovered. He was greatly pleased to hear of Tzal’s rapid advancement, especially since he had played no part in any of it, and he trusted Tzal implicitly to accomplish his intelligence-gathering mission. Drix and Raan both knew they had no choice but to attack these master predators if their people were to return to the ancient ways and learn the discipline known as morality.

But they also knew that before engaging a new enemy that would stress the Raknii race to their utmost, the Trakaan situation had to be finalized one way or another. Anything else was pure madness. Raan thought Drix’ proposed solution was madness, as well. Rather than suffer the losses required to totally defeat and subdue the Trakaan, Drix proposed something unheard of in the annals of Rak history. He actually proposed negotiating with prey.

We must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately.

-- Benjamin Franklin, at the signing of the Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776

The Planet Bama, City of Gomery

June, 3860

“All right, ladies and gentlemen, it’s time we got down to business,” intoned the meeting chairman, Senator Patrick Franklin George of Lusia. Congressional representatives from nine of the fourteen United Stellar Alliance planets located south of the Kallarine Gap sat around a large table in a meeting room just off the governor’s office in Gomery, the capital of the Southern planet Bama.

It was a given that federal government agencies were monitoring virtually all members of congressional delegations of planets where the Separatist movement had taken root. Keeping the Alliance Bureau of Investigation in the dark about this group meeting was highly desirable, but safeguarding the details of these discussions was imperative. Therefore, being well aware that most, if not all, of the congressional membership of the Southern planets were under constant surveillance by the ABI, these attendees had traveled to Bama by circuitous routes, each employing multiple surveillance evasion procedures dictated by various Southern private security firms having a large number of former AIA and ABI agents in their employ.

Senator George was a rotund, yet dignified man in his mid-sixties. Although impeccably dressed, his thinning gray hair, chubby red cheeks and thick pouting lips made him a rather comic figure to the uninitiated. But his deep, velvety voice instantly inspired confidence and trust. From his physical appearance alone, one would never guess that George was one of the most respected men in Congress — possibly second only to Senator Lincoln Collier of Ginia, who was virtually worshiped in certain circles for his relentless congressional crusades against the Consortium’s inexorable subjugation of the South.

“We are all painfully aware of the devastating effects the Consortium-backed
Alliance First
law has had on our Southern economies over the past six years, so there’s no need for us to go back over that ground,” Senator George opened. “The first order of business is to determine exactly where each of us stands on the matter of secession. We have to know exactly where we are before we can plan where we’re going. I’d like to call for a vote. All those who earnestly believe our current difficulties with the Alliance federal government cannot be resolved by means other than our achieving full independence from said government, please raise your hand.” Some faster than others, over the next few seconds all nine delegates raised their hands.

“Good, we’re all in agreement then. Next, we need to discuss what form our independence should take. Naturally, our current situation has made us fearful of a strong central government, yet we thrived within the Alliance before the Consortium became strong enough to dictate governmental policy and subvert the checks and balances built into the Alliance constitution. Whatever form of government we create always has to recognize the planetary rights and sovereignty of its members, yet the commonalities of our goals and needs for a common defense demonstrate the need for a limited central government capable of meeting communal needs beyond the capabilities of our individual planets.

“I’ve done some research on governmental forms throughout history and believe the one coming closest to meeting our needs is a
confederacy
. The main problem with confederacies in the past was their members retained so much independence and power locally, the central government was too weak to respond effectively to the needs of the group as a whole. In general, I think a modified version of the current Alliance constitution, specifying the powers reserved totally to the member planet states, and those reserved totally to the central government, will be the best approach in forming a new government. Let us retain everything good from the Alliance while repairing everything that went bad with it.

“I’ve taken the liberty of loading a synopsis of my proposals concerning a Confederation between our respective planets, a basic outline of a modified constitution, into the computer terminals in front of you. Please load these files into your personal comps and study them this evening, so we can vote on them at tomorrow’s meeting. Naturally, any new constitution will have to be ratified by all the member legislatures, but if we can come to agreement here, we’ll at least have a working framework to build on. The more details we can work out ahead of time, the faster we can create a functioning, effective government when the time comes. I’ll now open the floor for discussion of this topic and this topic only.”

There were a couple of questions asking for clarification of a few points in the proposal, and one or two supportive comments before Senator George continued the meeting.

“Obviously, with Discol located within the Maylan system, our position would be eminently strengthened if Maylan were to join us. While Separatist sympathies run strong on Maylan, with an almost even split in opinion amongst the populace being reflected in their legislature, it is doubtful enough votes can be generated for a bill of secession to be passed, even after the next election. Nor is it probable a sufficient majority would exist for the required popular ratification, even if it was. While it would be nice if the Alliance would simply pull out of the Maylan system, ceding Discol and Waston to us, I don’t think we can count on their generosity extending quite that far —" a comment that elicited a chuckle from the assembled delegates.