The Insurrection

by David Weber

  Fedor wasn't watching. He was racing across the open space, needler in hand, dashing for the guards who were already training their weapons on the helpless prisoners. He slid to a halt, bracing the needler with both hands as a laser bolt whipped past him, thermal bloom scorching his 144 hair. A guard saw him and turned, his jaw dropping, but too late. A stream of needles spat from the weapon, and the guards went down like autumn wheat before Fedor's reaper.

  Screams and shouts were everywhere. Weapons fired.

  Men and women beat Marines to death with fists and feet. Navy personnel scattered--only senior ratings and offleers were armed, and they were outnumbered by hundreds to one. They fought desperately to bring their weapons into play, but they hadn't known what Waffdeck intended, and they were just as shocked as the civilians. Their minds needed time to dear and adjust, and there was no time.

  Fedor ran to the manacled prisoners.

  "Are you all right?" he bellowed as Magda Petrovna dispicked herself up off the ground. She stared at him for a moment with burning eyes, then nodded sharply and snatched up a dead Marine's laser with her ehainod hands. Her voice rang out over the tumult.

  "The ships!" she screamed. "Take the ships?" Some of the crowd heard. They seized the weapons of their fallen enemies and fell in behind her, and their discordant yells coalesced into a single phrase, thundering above the bedlam.

  "The ships!" they roared, and foamed forward in an unstoppable human wave behind a mutinous ex-eaptain and a farmer who had wanted only justice.

  IRONY OF POWER Oskar Dieter blinked wearily and fingered the advance. The ststains of a New Zurich waltz filled his office, but the soft music was at grim vfiriance with the data on his screen, and he sighed and leaned back, pinching his nose and trying to shake himself back to a semblance of freshness.

  It was hard. Catastrophe had followed disaster with monotonous regularity for months, and in his nightmares endless trains of courier drones whizzed towards Sol, packed with tidings of fresh calamity.

  What was happening in the Fringe was bad enough, but affairs on Old Terra were little better. The Assembly had been stunned by the Taliaferro suicide, but not Dieter. His fellow Gallowayans might put it down to grief over the Jamieson Archipelago--which was a tragedy of staggering proportions--but Dieter knew better.

  Dieter almost pitied him... but only almost, and his face hardened as he wondered yet again how many others would die before the madness ended.== Yet Taliaferro's death only compounded the Federation's plight. His had been the dominating presence behind the Corporate World bloc for over thirty years, and now that superbly engineered machine was flailing itself to destruction... and threatening to take the Federation with it. The desperate survivors were haunted by guilt they could not admit even to themselves and terrified of

  its consequences. The succession battle was the most vicious Dieter had ever seen, yet whoever finally won would inherit only a corpse.

  It wouldn't be very much longer before the ground swell of public opinion rolled over the politicos.

  Already the first combers were crashing through the Chamber of Worlds; a few more disasters, and it would become impossible for them to cling to power, and-- His communicator chimed, and he reached automatically for the button, eyes narrowing as he recognized the neatly groomed face of Oliver Fuchs, President Zhfs executive secretary.

  "Good morning, Mister Dieter," Fuchs said politely. "Would it be convenient pounds r you to meet with the President in his office this evening? At 1800 perhaps?" "Why, of course, Mister Fuchs," Dieter replied slowly, and his thoughts raced. "Ah, might I ask what the President desires?" "I'm sorry, sir, but he wishes to explain that to you himself," Fuchs said with a pleasantly diffident smile.

  "I see," Dieter said even more slowly. "Very well, Mister Fuchs. I'll look forward to asking him in person." "Thank you, sir. I'll tell him to expect you," Fuchs said, and the screen blanked.

  Dieter sat and stared at it for a long, long'time, and his mind was busy.

  Fuchs was waiting in the Anderson House foyer when Dieter arrived at the presidential residence at

  17:45. He whisked the visitor into an elevator with the skill of a veteran maitre do' and filled the short ascent with utterly inconsequential small talk, but Dieter noted a strange intensity in the secretary's eyes. Curiosity, or evaluation, perhaps. Whatever it was, it only added to the tension hovering within him.

  The elevator deposited them outside Zhfs office, and Fuchs opened the old-fashioned manual doors and stood aside, waving him through, then closed them quietly behind him.

  The office was a large room--huge, by Innerworld standardsfurnished with all the sumptuous luxury due INSV-AAECO the Pederation's head of state. To be sure, the power of the man who occupied it had waned over the decades, but the trappings of authority remained.

  And they weren't entirely a facade, Dieter reminded himself. Prime ministers came and went, but the president provided the state's stability, and he still represented the popular choice of the majority of the Federation's myriad citizens.

  But Dieter had been here before, and his attention was not on the rich carpets and indirect lighting. It was drawn inevitably to the cluster of people sitting around the President's desk. Zhi himself was a small man, shorter even than Dieter, though more sturdily built. He rose as Dieter approached, and his handclasp was firm, but his face bore the stigmata of strain.

  "I believe you know most of these people, Mister Dieter,"" he murmured, and Dieter nodded, then bowed slightly to the group, his mind whirring with speculation.

  Sky Marshal Lech Witcinski, commander-in-chief of the Terran military, responded with a curt nod, half-raising his burlv body from his chair. His uniform was immaculate, and ('is blunt, hard features showed surprisingly little sign of the tremendous strain focused upon him.

  Not so the man seated beside him. David Halev had aged appreciably in the past weeks, but his smile o[ welcome was far warmer than it once had been.

  Dieter returned it in kind, then raised an eyebrow at the sharp-eyed man at the Speaker's left. Kevin Sanders, he thought musingly.

  Admiral Kevin Sanders, retired, one-time head of the Office of Naval Intelligence.

  Now wasn't he an interesting addition to this gathering?

  Even seated, Sanders managed to exude a sense of mingled composure and agility, like a lean, gray tomcat, and his amused eyes gleamed as if he could read Dieter's mind. And perhaps he could. Far more esoteric powers had been ascribed to him during his career.

  The single person Dieter didn't know wore the space-black and silver of a vice admiral, and he felt a stir of admiration as he looked at her. Long, platinum hair rippled over her shoulders, and her eyes were a deep, almost indigo blue. She was certainly the most attractive flag officer he'd ever seen, he thought wryly, and held out his hand to her.

  "Good evening, Admiral hiswas "Krupskaya, Mister Dieter," she said in a soft, clear voice. "Susan Krupskaya." "Enchanted," he murmured, raising her hand briefly to his lips, and her own lips quivered in an amused smile.

  "Well, then," Zhi said briskly, reclaiming Dieter's attention and waving him to a chair, "to business." "Of course, Mister President. My time is yours," Dieter said, seating himself, and Zhfs sardonic smile surprised him.

  "In more ways than you may suspect, Mister Dieter," he said softly, and Dieter's eyebrows crooked politely.

  "I beg your pardon?" he said, but Zhi didn't respond directly. Instead he nodded to David Haley.

  "Mister Dieter--Oskar "the Speaker said, "I'm afraid we have you at a bit of a disadvantage. You see, the Minh Government has resigned." Dieter managed to hide his surprise--butarely.

  The gow ernment had fallen? Why hadn't he already heard? And how in the Galaxy had they kept the press from finding out? "It won't be announced at once," Haley continued, "because, under the circumstances, it seems vital to follow the news with the immediate announcement of the formation of a new govenment." Dieter nodded. The last thing they needed was a prolonged
ministerial crisis.

  Him? He was a pariah, repudiated by his own long-time alliesl They couldn't be serious!

  "Mister President," he said finally. "I-I don't know what to say. I'm honored, but--was "Indulge me a moment, Mister Dieter," Zhi said quietiy. "Officially, I am not supposed to have opinions in these matters, but, to speak frankly, there are no other choices. You, more than most, are aware that the Minh Government has been totally discredited. Indeed, the situation is worse even than you know, but the critical point--politically speaking--is that anyone else is unacceptable.

  To put it bluntly, Simon Taliaferro's associates are all tainted by their support of his policies, yet they remain a very potent force in the Chamber of Worlds. If we are to find an alternative to one of them, it must be someone who can gather support from both the Assembly moder- ates and the public. Someone like you." "But, Mister President! I--was "Oskar," Haley cut back in, "think a moment. You're a Corporate Worlder, yet you openly 6pposed Tagg'iaferro's excesses.

  The Corporate World moderates will follow your lea, and so will the Heart World liberals. That gives you a power base, and the Tagg'iaferro crowd can't very well oppose you without refocusing attention on their own mistakes." "And, Mister Dieter," Witcinski put in, "you enjoy the support of the military." Dieter looked at him in astonishment, and the sky marshal shrugged. "I know. That's not supposed to be a factor, but we all know it will be. Your position on the Military Oversight Committee gives you a background knowledge which may be invaluable. And, if I may speak completely candidly, the Fleet views you as a moderate. As prime minister, you would be tremendously reassuring to the bulk of the officer corps." "But," Zhi said warningly, "that same reputation is a two-edged sword. You are a moderate, and we need moderates, but we have a war on our hands. If you accept this office, you'll have to demonstrate that you're a war leader, as well." "And how would I be expected to do that?" Dieter asked, eyes narrowing.

  "By forming an all-parties cabinet," Haley said quietly, and Dieter nodded slowly.

  Of course. Minh's government was associated solely with the extreme Corporate World interests, which was why it had to go. But its replacement must command broad support, and the only way to do that would be to combine all elements. Part of him quailed at the thought of exerting mastery over such a disparate gathering of interests, but he understood. And he was beginning to see why Zhi had turned to him.

  "Mister President," he said finally, "why did the government resign at this particular moment? May I assume Admiral Sanders' presence has some bearing on that point?" "You may," Zhi said heavily. He tugged at an earlobe and frowned. "I have asked Admiral Sanders to return from retirement and reassume direction of the Office of Naval Intelligence." Dieter nodded mentally; he'd suspected as much.

  Whatever the immediate cause of the secession, the speed with which the Fringe had closed ranks behind the Kontravians spoke volumes for the degree of clandestine communication which must have been established long since among the Outworld governments. Yet no whisper of any of it had reached the Assembly, which pointed to a massive intelligence failure.

  "In that case, with your permission, Mister President, I'd like to ask Admiral Sanders a few questions before I give you my decision." "I assumed you would. That's why I arrangbledd to have the military represented," Zhi said dryly, waving a hand to proceed.

  "nank you. Admiral, I suspect the situation is even worse than most of my colleagues realize. Am I correct?" "That depends, Mister Dieter," Sanders said carefully, "on just how bad they think it is. Off the cuff, however, I would have to say yes." "Enlighten me, if you please." "All right." Sanders eyed him measuringly. "Sky Marshal Witcinski could probably give you better figures on precise Fleet losses, but ONI estimates that in addition to TF Seventeen at least fifteen percent of Battle Fleet has gone over to the rebels.

  Additional units in Innerworld space have mutinied and attempted to join them, but we've been able to stop most of them. The cost in loyal units---was he met Dieter's eyes levelly, and Dieter felt an inner chill "mhas been high.

  "At the same time," he went on even more dispassionately, "we don't really know what's happened to Frontier Fleet. No drones are getting through to us from any of our bases in the Fringe, which, since the rebels control the intervening warp points and Fleet relays, may or may not mean they've changed sides. On a worst-ease basis, we're estimating the loss of at least ninety percent of Frontier Fleet." Dieter was staggered, though he tried to hide it.

  "Fortunately," Sanders continued, "our large Innerworld bases have remained loyal and the rebels have to set up their command structure from scratch, which gives us time to activate the Reserve while they get themselves organized. On the whole, and given the greater mass of Battle Fleet's capital units, the tonnage balance probably [avors the rebels by as much as thirty percent, but the ratio of firepower is a bit in our favor when Fortress Conmand is allowed for." "I see. And Zephrain RDS?" "Unknown, Mister Dieter," Sanders admitted.

  "The only hopeful news is that one of our Battle Fleet battlegroups may have gotten through to it." "May?" Dieter asked sharply.

  "May. Vice Admiral Trevayne's BG Thirty-Two was cut off at Osterman's Star when the mutinies began, and we've received an official Orion complaint of a TFN border violation at Sulzan, about four transits from there. In all probability, that was Trevayne, and ff it was, and if he managed to avoid internment, and if the Orion district governor at Rehfrak was willing to let a force that powerful pass through his bailiwick, then he may have reached Zephrain.

  Unfortunately, the Orions have since closed their borders completely. Any sort of confirmation from them will be a long time coming." Sanders shrugged, and Dieter nodded again. He'd met lan Trevayne exactly once, when he appeared before the Oversight Committee, but the incisive man he remembered just might have taken a chance on violating Orion space... and he would have known exactly how important Zephrain was.

  "But that's only the present situation," Witeinski said, breaking the brief silence. "It doesn't address the future." "No," Sanders agreed, "and that's really Susan's area." He nodded to Krupskaya, and her dark blue eyes met Dieter's as she took her cue.

  "The Jamieson Archipelago attack may have been a mistake, politically speaking," Krupskaya continued, "since its 'barbarism" has generated such widespread shock and repugnance among the Innerworlds, but militarily it was brilliant. They knocked out more than ninety percent of the civilian yards as well as the Yard and all Reserve units mothballed there. We estimate that it would take two or three years for the rebels to set up any substantial yard capacity of their own, but we need time to rebuild Galloway's World. We can put the facilities there back into service faster than we could build new yards and their infrastructure on other planets, but it will be at least eighteen monthsmore probably two years--before we can even begin laying down new ships there.

  "Which means, Mister Dieter, that--assuming the reb- els have seized most of our bases in the Fringe-our current building capacity gives us no more than a twenty percent advantage over them. We believe we can expand existing yards faster than they can build new ones, but for the foreseeable future we are going to have to be very, very careful about risking losses, particularly, in light of their long construction times, among our heavy units." "I see," Dieter said again, and another silence fell. God, it was even worse than he'd feared.

  "But you asked why the government resigned," Zhi said finally. "Beyond the obvious erosion of its majority--comof which, I am sure, you are aware--comand general military situation, we have suffered yet another reverse." Dieter wondered ff he really wanted to hear any more bad news, but he nodded for Zhi to continue.

  Yet it was Witcinski who took over again.

  "This morning, we received a message from Admiral Pritzcowitski at Cimmaron," he said. "He and Admiral Waldeck had initiated local operations to suppress the rebellion in the immediate vicinity. Unfortunately, their first effort, directed against Novaya Bodina with light units, was badly defeate
d by some sort of jury-rigged defensive force. Admiral Waldeek proceeded at once with his entire task force to retrieve the situation. As of the time Admiral Pritzcowitzkfs message was dispatched, Admiral Waldeek's next scheduled report was seventy-two hours overdue." Dieter closed his eyes. It got worse and worse. No wonder Minh had resigned! When the Assembly learned all that he'd just learned, Minh would be lucky to escape impeachment.

  "So that's the situation, Oskar," Haley said quietly. "We've had our differences, but I hope you know how much I've admired you in the past few months--and that I hate to ask this of you. But we need you." Dieter didn't even open his eyes, and behind his lids he saw every agonizing step which had led him and the Federagon to this pass. The military position was grimmer than even he had feared, and he knew how the Assembly would react when they discovered the truth. The existing fury over the "sneak attack" and "massacre" at Galloway's World would mix with panic. The war fervor which already gripped the Innerworlds would intensify, rather than ease as they drew together in the face of danger--and so would the extremity of the Federation's war aims.

  If he accepted Zhfs request and formed a government, it would be a war government. It could be nothing else, and he would have to prove his own determination to achieve victory or go the way Minh had already gone. It would be the final, bitter irony of the political odyssey he'd begun when he broke with Simon. He, who had thrown away his career in an effort to preserve the peace, would be elevated to the highest ofi@e of the Assembly and charged with fighting the very. war he'd tried to prevent!

  He drew a deep breath. His wildest dreams had never included becoming prime minister--and certainly never like this! And yet, ironic as it was, he had no choice. He opened his eyes and looked at President Zhi.

  "Very well, Mister President," he sighed.

  "I'll try." DECLARATION "Novaya Rodina, eh?" Ladislaus Skjoruing watched the blue nd white planet as the crew of the TFNS Howard AnderSon brought their ship into orbit. "I take it you're finding this a strange spot for a convention of traitors, Admiral Ashigara?" His eyes touched briefly upon the empWill right cuff of the woman standing beside him. Analiese Ashigara was every bit as taciturn and unyielding as her severe exterior and precise Standard English suggested, but he felt a strange kinship for the hawk-faced woman with the al-mnnd eyes and white-streaked hair who'd given a hand for her beliefs.