Warden: A Novel (45 page)

“But how can the people make decisions directly?” one of the representatives blurted out. “They don’t even understand the issues! How can they decide on
anything
?”

Barent looked straight at the man, but he directed his comments to everyone in the room. “And that is just another one of your failings,” he said. “It’s my understanding that the schools in the Common Ring are not only informal, but inadequate. I was also told there were no schools in the Outland at all—informal or otherwise. After we rebuild this city, there will be schools where
everyone
can receive a decent education. Not just those who can afford it.”

Barent leaned forward and placed both palms flat on the table. And then he slowly looked down both sides of it, catching the attention of each representative. “Things are going to be very different from here on out, universal education alone will see to that. There will be no backsliding into oppressive rule once the citizens understand the way things
should
be. The ignorant often champion the causes of their oppressors, and are grateful for the scraps tossed to them in return. But I think you’ll find that an educated populace is much harder to control.”

Barent reached up and un-clipped one of the holsters on his chest, withdrawing the pistol from it. Everyone in the room froze as he placed the gun down on the table in front of him. "Take a good look at it," he told the representatives. "Because in the end, this is the only power that really matters. This isn’t some replica hanging on the wall in your office, or a display piece resting on a desk to be admired. This weapon is real, and over the years it has taken many, many lives. If you learn nothing else from this war, remember this: if the people remain happy, the guns stay holstered. But if you give them a reason to overthrown the government, they will, especially now. And it won't take five hundred years for it to happen next time. This generation has seen a successful revolution, and so have their children. The people will remember this victory for a very long time, so do a decent job for them so they don't have to repeat it. Work with the citizens to make this city a better, more equitable place to live. Because they’ll be the ones deciding where Le’sant goes from here, not you.
You
work for them now. And so do I. I told you I didn’t intend to exercise any authority in the future, and I meant it. Once the new government is in place, my power will be limited to a single vote, just like everyone else.”

“Ha!” one of the representatives exclaimed. “If you so much as whispered a notion, Sergeant Barent, the people would do whatever you wished. Even if you are sincere, which I doubt, anything you say or do will direct their actions.”

“And that is one of the main reasons I’m leaving the city for a while,” Barent replied. “To give the citizens of Le’sant an opportunity to decide what they want for themselves, without my interference. I will make my own recommendations, of course, and if anything like the Collective begins to rear its ugly head, I
will
intervene. But other than that, I intend to stay out of it completely.”

The news of Barent’s departure came as a surprise to everyone, except for Dura, Renik, and Cernes. And he briefly savored the stunned silence of the representatives before continuing.

“As you’ve no doubt heard,” Barent told them, “we’ve been refitting some of the larger haulers to traverse the wasteland, and a few of them already left to begin returning the Exile and Olin soldiers to their homes. But we also sent a group of engineers in the first convoy to assess the
Olin’s
condition, and to determine what could be powered up and salvaged.”

“I heard from them just this morning,” Renik said. “And the initial reports seem very promising.”

“Excellent,” Barent replied. “I know the Olin would prefer to keep the ship as she is, but bringing a few of the systems back online could make life much easier for your people.”

“Our thoughts as well,” Renik agreed.

Barent turned his attention back to the representatives. “Soon, I will be accompanying Renik back to the
Olin
myself, and leading the effort to negotiate and organize trade agreements between the Olin, Exiles, and Le’sant. But with the new comm relays the first convoy installed between here and the
Olin,
I’ll be able to remain in touch, and make sure things are proceeding exactly as planned with the rebuilding effort. I can return to Le’sant in mere hours if there are any complications during the process, or even a shred of political interference. And I assure each one of you
personally,
that I will be far less magnanimous if there are problems.”

The representatives’ expressions told Barent that his not-so-subtle message had been abundantly clear. He picked up his pistol and re-holstered it.

“Le’sant’s old breakdown facility is also being assessed for functionality,” he explained. “Although it was originally a factory used to repurpose unneeded starship parts after the
Le’sant
landed on Torvus, it was also designed to process raw minerals extracted from the planet, converting them into the materials necessary to continue expanding the colony. But since the Pardon War, this city has been stuck in some kind of a survival mindset, stagnating while you tried to maintain the status quo. So instead of creating a real, viable civilization over the years, each generation has just been treading water—as if waiting for
something
to happen. But no one else is coming to Torvus; this is it. This planet is now our home, and it’s time we started acting like it. We need to establish a mining industry so we can build Le’sant into what its original designers had in mind—to go beyond those aspirations, even. But first, we’ll have to fix what’s been broken. In the short-term, the city will employ the downtrodden and others to help repair the damage caused by the war. And once that’s complete, we’ll continue to use that workforce for the expansion outward. The jobs will help address the economic inequality those people suffered in the past, and allow them to provide for themselves until a social safety net can be put into place. Depending on the level of prosperity these new economic efforts generate, we may not even need a robust intervention for the poor. But something still must be developed to aid the less fortunate in the future, something real, and useful.”

Barent paused and looked out across the table, witnessing confusion all around. The Collective representatives were desperately trying to figure out their place in this new society he was describing, and they were failing miserably. The war and subsequent arrests had shattered their positions of influence, and Barent’s reforms would strip away what little authority they still possessed.

But he had no sympathy for them at all.

“And this is only the beginning,” Barent continued. “Because our economy is going to extend out beyond the city walls now. Effective immediately, we’ll be trading finished goods with the Olin in exchange for some of their abundant food supplies. And over the next few months, we’ll establish a hardened power line from our grid to their ship, to provide the Olin with energy. Renik has also promised to help us build our own farms in Le’sant, and pledged to provide us with the seed and livestock necessary to get started—and the much-needed expertise of the Olin people.”

Barent leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “
That
is the future I see for Le’sant,” he said forcefully. “One of change, growth and advancement. The choice is yours. You can be part of it, or you can be left behind. So serve the people of Le’sant well, or so help me, I will serve you up to them.”

He nodded to a guard standing by the door and she pulled it open. Then the Collective representatives looked around the table in bewilderment for a moment before realizing that was their cue to leave. They all got up and filed out of the room, and after the last had gone the guard closed the door again.

“They didn’t look very happy,” Sergeant Dura said in an amused voice.

“No, they didn’t,” Barent agreed.

Commander Cernes waved a hand to indicate himself and Sergeant Dura. “We wanted to talk to you, Sergeant Barent, and get some input about the future of the military. Or to find out if there’s even going to be one.”

“Unfortunately,” Barent replied, “there has to be. As we prepare an easily passable route between the
Olin
and Le’sant, hopefully setting up a tramway of some sort, we’re also opening up the crater floor to the Exiles. They’re not all under my control, and we really don’t even know how many groups of them exist out on the plains. My tribe will spread word about what they saw here, about Le’sant’s powerful weapons and large army. But if any of the other tribes sense weakness—either real or imagined—they won’t hesitate to attack. We’ll need to maintain an army just in case they do.”

“What are your plans for the Exiles you
do
control?” Renik asked. “Have you decided what to do with them yet?”

Barent grinned. “The day after the war ended, an Exile named Kaut came up to me and announced that he was my new Second. He had fresh blood on him, and I could tell it wasn’t from the prior night’s battle. Kaut had just
earned
his position. I asked him if he was there to challenge me, and he said simply, ‘Not yet’.”

“So he will make a move,” Sergeant Dura said.

“Oh yes,” Barent replied. “But I think I have a little while yet before he does. Kaut understands my influence over the military in Le’sant, and my friendship with the Olin. My reputation as a warrior, and the powerful alliances I’ve made outside the tribe, gives me a great deal of authority—more than any other Alpha has ever enjoyed. So my strength will give Kaut pause. But he won’t wait forever to challenge me.”

“And what will you do then?” Renik asked.

“I haven’t decided yet. For now, I need to maintain control over the Exiles to ensure Le’sant’s safety. Because of the war—the destruction, and loss of life—we are vulnerable. If Kaut tries to usurp me too soon, I will have no choice but to kill him. But in the future, he may serve as a means for relinquishing my position as Alpha. I’ll just have to wait and see what type of man he ends up being. But with any luck, I’ll be able to bring the Exiles around by then, and have them engage the Olin and Le’sant through trade, instead of violence. We all might even enjoy a peaceful coexistence one day, but we aren’t there yet.”

Barent walked over and pulled out a chair, and then he sat down at the table with the others. “Now, about the military.” He directed his gaze at Commander Cernes. “According to interviews I had with quite a few people, including Sergeant Dura here, you are an able commander, Cernes. And Malves’ final testament states that you refused to engage in the purge of the Wardens, risking sanction and a demotion.”

“I would never obey an order like that,” Cernes said indignantly.

“Which leads me to believe that you would never
give
one like it either,” Barent replied. “Commander, I think you are the person best qualified to take control of Le’sant’s military, with the rank of general. Are you interested in the position?”

“I am, sir.”

“Then take it. And as for you, Dura, you’ll also hold the rank of general…as leader of the Wardens.”

“But, sir,” Dura protested, “
you
are the leader of the Wardens. And I’m just a sergeant.”

“Ha!” Barent laughed. “I’m just a sergeant, too,
General
Dura. And I will always be a Warden. But it’s you who will lead them. I want the Wardens to continue their advanced training, with full resources. They need to be the ultimate safeguard of the people of Le’sant—against all foes, from within and without.”

Barent gave both men a reassuring look. “With the two of you protecting the city, I know Le’sant will be in good hands. And I’ll be able to focus my efforts on developing better relationships with the Olin and Exiles.”

Both men nodded in agreement, seemingly satisfied with Barent’s reasoning, but equally uncomfortable with his praise.

“Do you really mean to take no part in the final government?” Dura asked.

“Even if I wanted to,” Barent replied, “which I don’t. It’s impossible. That representative was right. Anything I do will carry unequal weight with the people. Any position I take on an issue will sway the vote in my favor—right or wrong—and the people need to decide for themselves what they want. Besides, I would like to just relax for a while. My entire adult life has been filled with war, and I’m afraid that my experiences back on Earth left me rather cynical about governments in general. I find politics tedious…
very
tedious.”

“I don’t presume to speak for General Dura,” Cernes said. “But I think we can all agree on that point.”

“Of that, I’m sure,” Barent said. Then he stood up to leave and slid the chair back under the table. “I’ll let the two of you get to work. I have a few administrative tasks of my own to accomplish before I leave for the
Olin
.”

Renik got up as well. “I’ll go out to the camp and see how the exodus is progressing. I’m certain Tana has things well in hand, but she still might appreciate some help.”

“It’s a logistical nightmare,” Barent said. “No doubt about it. But Tana is up to the task, and the Exiles follow her commands almost as well as they do my own.”

“Indeed,” Renik said. “Tana has earned their respect. Mine as well.”

“I believe that sentiment is universal,” Barent replied. “Go on ahead, Renik. I’ll join up with you later when I’m finished here.”

Renik nodded, and then he headed off in the opposite direction as they both left the room.

Barent stepped into the first lift he found and used the control panel to send it to the second floor. As the door slid closed, he recalled fighting for his life in another lift just like it on the night of the war—in the very same building. Then Barent spotted a faint red stain on the floor in one of the corners, where blood had been hastily cleaned away. And he noticed the bright sheen of newly installed wall panels, replacing others that had been shattered by gunfire. Barent realized that this was the exact same lift where he’d killed the three Collective soldiers to make his escape.