The Peace Proxy: Part 1

The Peace Proxy

Part 1

The Peace Proxy © 2014

Cover Art © 2015

This is
a work of
fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and
incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or
used in
a fictitious
manner. Any resemblance
to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely
coincidental.

2

For Jessica, Garrett, and
Brandon

Thanks to Brian, Danielle, Dave,
John, Debbie, Beverly, Leo, Dennis, Andy, Tanner, Andrew, and Mom.
I could not have done it without your encouragement.

Garrett Richards brimmed with excitement
over the impending confrontation as he waited in the plush lobby.
Julie, the receptionist, offered him a warm smile. She held up her
index finger to indicate she needed a moment as she returned to her
conversation with the computer embedded in her large desk. Garrett
briefly studied her. She appeared young, not even thirty by his
guess, but who could tell these days? She had dark red hair with a
touch of brown, and dark blue eyes. He wondered if they were her
natural color before shifting his attention to the whole of the
room. The floor was polished stone, marble or perhaps some
ornate
granite. The walls, lined with raised
panels of light-colored wood, extended thirty feet to a domed
ceiling. The dome was decorated
with an
intricate mural of some long forgotten hero with sword raised,
ready to lead his legions to victory or death. Large vertical
windows ushered in light from the weak southern sun as it
reluctantly forced its way above the horizon. The entire room gave
Garrett the open feeling of being outdoors.

Garrett’s attention
waned,
and his thoughts soon drifted to the upcoming
encounter with Governor Frank Weller. Garrett’s career as an
investigative reporter began thirteen years earlier. He had
acquired
a respectable
measure of success in
the interim, but Governor Weller was the highest-ranking government
official he had investigated. Garrett smiled thinly, considering
how, despite the unity of the world governments, human nature
remained unchanged. That the occasionally corrupt public official
believed ill-gotten wealth could be successfully hidden away for
later use baffled Garrett. It was all too compelling for a
disgruntled conspirator, even years after the crime, to find the
hypocrisy of a prim and proper public image more than they could
tolerate. So, out of spite, the nefarious behavior was exposed.

Charlie Cogburn, Garrett’s editor,
was
thrilled by the prospect of an exclusive
covering the corruption of a high-level official. As for Garrett,
he hoped this would finally put that ugly fiasco involving Senator
Rimes behind him. Two years earlier, an errant tip sent him on an
irretrievably misguided pursuit concerning
a
purported overly favorable
real estate investment. Although
he had published many notable investigative articles before and
since,
he was quite sure his professional ego
was still bruised
from the ordeal. He
was reminded
he would not have met Katherine
if the events had unfolded differently but the consolation of that
truth had become less
effective
as he came to
realize his reputation may never
be restored
to the level of respect he had earned
before
the incident.

He broke from his reflections as Julie
turned her attention from the computer. Garrett again offered a
smile and made his introduction, “Garrett Richards with the
Herald.”

Julie returned the smile. “Of course, Mr.
Richards. Governor Weller will see you in a few minutes. Would you
like some coffee?”

Garrett declined.

“You are welcome to use the holograph while
you wait,” Julie added, indicating a set of controls in the arm of
the chairs that lined the lobby.

Garrett considered the ostentatious chairs
designed to make the Governor’s guests comfortable while they
waited for an audience. He decided on one directly across from
Julie that allowed him to observe the entrance to the Governor’s
office and the entrance
to
the building with
equal ease.
He
walked across the room to his
chosen vantage point. Upon further inspection, he noted all the
chairs
were similarly equipped
with a
holographic device. Impressive and expensive, Garrett acknowledged.
After today, the Governor would likely want to see Garrett in a
different kind of chair, one equipped with a high voltage feed.

The
chair
actively
conformed
to support Garrett in exquisite
comfort as he manipulated the controls to activate the holograph.
He scanned the morning news programs, stopping briefly to sample
the United Federation Senate debates over lifting the ban on the
use of antimatter drive ships in the Earth’s atmosphere.

A woman who appeared to be in her late
thirties was addressing the delegation. Clad in a dark pants suit,
with preternatural black hair, and light skin, she was the image of
competence and efficiency. Clearly the advocate, she stood in the
center of the Senate floor behind a podium. Around her, the other
senators resided in tiered alcoves embedded in the walls. The
speaker resembled a refined gladiator in a honeycombed
coliseum.

She highlighted both the technical and
economic success of the three antimatter reactors that provided the
world with electrical power, her Nordic accent framing each point
nicely. Might as well say, all of Earth’s power, Garrett reflected.
Every vehicle and structure on the planet was powered by
electricity, save for the spaceships
which
, in
the
atmosphere
, could only contain a
conventional drive. She continued, stating how allowing antimatter
ships to operate directly from Earth would eliminate the need for
intermediate
stops
,
significantly
reducing the space travel
infrastructure.

To
travel
beyond Earth, one had to leave the planet on a
hydrogen drive-powered
ship, and then
dock
with an orbital station, officially named Pericles Station, but
commonly referred to as the “Wheel.” Once the conventional ship
docked and deposited its occupants, they were free to board an
antimatter-powered ship to continue to their intra-solar
destination. For most that meant the moon’s only colony, Tycho
City.

The woman continued advancing her position,
stating the current infrastructure was constricting travel by
twenty-seven percent. In five years, that number could be as high
as seventy percent. Allowing antimatter ships in the atmosphere
would immediately relieve the congestion.

“I find it difficult to believe travel to
Pericles Station has already reached capacity,” a Senator
challenged.

“It’s the water required to propel the
antimatter ships that is limiting travel beyond the Wheel,
Senator,” the speaker clarified.

“Water?” came the puzzled reply.

The woman advocating the change in policy
visibly restrained her annoyance. Her counterpart’s lack of
understanding of basic infrastructure she could forgive, the man’s
lack of preparation she could not.

“Sir, if you or any of your staff had read
the report on space travel that
was prepared
for this audience, the answer to your question would be obvious,”
she admonished, before continuing the explanation. “An antimatter
reaction makes one thing, heat, and lots of it.
To
propel an object
, mass still has to
be
accelerated
. Antimatter drives flash heat water to plasma,
which expands rapidly and provides the accelerated mass required to
produce force. Most of the cargo that we send to the Wheel is water
for the antimatter drives. If antimatter ships were allowed in the
atmosphere, the hundreds of tons of water we ship to the Wheel
every day
would no longer be necessary.”

Slim chance, Garrett reasoned. Two years ago
there were four antimatter collectors
operating
in orbit when Vedas Two had a containment breach.
The ensuing explosion gave Australia
a false
day for
a few brilliant
seconds. It had
created quite a phobia against antimatter among the general
populace. The only thing that kept the antimatter reactors on Earth
from being shut down was the prospect of having to pay
tremendous
prices for electricity. Public phobia stopped
just short of the public pocketbook. The reactors’ remote locations
such as northern Canada, Siberia, and Antarctica allayed concerns
of a containment failure for all but the few who legitimately
understood the extent of the devastation such an event would
generate.

As if reading Garrett’s thoughts, a voice
from one of the alcoves challenged the speaker. “What about the
Vedas Two breach?”

Garrett switched to the next program where a
thin, graying man was addressing four other persons in what
appeared to
be an open discussion on the
former third-world countries. The man had an annoying habit of
rubbing his hands together as he spoke. The group was discussing
the
view that these countries
were being
exploited by what
was still referred
to as the
developed nations. Garrett quickly changed the channel. The
constant debate surrounding the “underdeveloped countries” did not
sit well with him. With almost free energy, the countries had
quickly developed what, by all arguments, was an equal standard of
living. The practical elimination of petroleum use had a profound
effect on the world economic structure, with the consumer nations
surprisingly experiencing the largest downturn. Although many
speculated the shift from petroleum dependency over the past two
decades would signal the end of the Middle East energy influence,
those prognosticators were not tracking the source of funding for
this recently viable renewable energy. The Arabian Gulf states held
a controlling interest in the three remaining antimatter collectors
and were entirely funding the replacement for Vedas Two.

The next channel was broadcasting a news
report of an alleged alien craft observed by a Mars survey team.
Garrett listened intently. Sightings of unidentified ships had
increased dramatically in the past year as companies began to
catalog
Martian resources. The screen
displayed a fuzzy image of a wedge-shaped vessel. The photo
was taken
at a considerable
distance,
and Garrett could not glean much from it.
The image was replaced by a young anchorwoman
.
She reported an emergency session of the United Federation Senate
erupted
into
chaos
yesterday
when the Chinese delegate threatened to end the
thirty-one-year
ban on all standing militia.
The screen shifted to the emergency session of the United
Federation Senate. The Senate floor appeared the same as in the
previous broadcast, except the woman promoting
antimatter had been replaced by the United Federation
Chairman
. His stature emanated the confidence of a
predetermined outcome as the Chinese Senator addressed the
delegation.

“This poses an immediate threat. China is
calling for legislation supporting the creation of a standing army,
for
defense
of course.”

“And dissolve the military ban that has been
in effect for thirty-one years? Outrageous!” The Australian Senator
countered, incredulously. A rumbling thunder of discord made its
way through the chamber as dissenting murmurs filled the open
space.

The Chairman addressed the forum, “All
right, maintain
order,
my fellow statesmen.
The Alien Research Center will make a statement concerning the
sighting within the hour. No one here is suggesting we require
anything more than the police forces we currently maintain.”

“On the contrary,” the Chinese Senator
countered. “China is suggesting we need more, and if the Senate
doesn't act
, China will.”