The Renegade

by P. M. Johnson

  Linsky nodded his head. “I managed to escape capture when the cowardly Third raised the white flag. I gathered together as many former SPD officers and Special Forces as I could and formed a group called the Storm Front. We pursued a number of counterinsurgency strategies that yielded positive results, but regrettably, I was captured during an operation to destroy a rail line into Pittsburgh. Many of my Storm Front soldiers are still free, but without me to guide them, Attika’s Constitutional Guards will eventually round them up, or they’ll simply lose heart and disappear into the population.”

  Harken once again raised his eyes as though looking into the distance. Linsky turned but saw nothing but his cell wall. Whatever Harken had seen caused him to purse his lips and narrow his eyes. He looked back at Linsky and said, “Time is short. I need you and your Storm Front to cause as much trouble for Attika and her Septemberists as possible. Destroy infrastructure, murder political leaders, spread fear and despair. Then, when the time is right, you must perform a very important task. You will return to the Pennsylvania highlands and gain control of the cave there. You know the one I mean. The Sahiradin know it is a place of great power and they desire to control it, but I don’t intend for them to have it. I know of a way we can use it to our advantage. Earth is overmatched in this struggle between the Sahiradin and the Lycians. We must level the playing field and that cave is the key to doing so. Do the Lycians know of it?”

  “Yes,” replied Linsky. “My spies informed me that they conducted an investigation but soon departed.”

  “Good,” replied Harken. “If they had any inkling as to its true nature, they never would have left. Things are moving swiftly, Linsky. If we are to emerge from this conflict in a position of strength you must gain control of that cave when I give you the order. Do you understand?”

  Linsky nodded his head, “Yes, of course, sir!” He paused for a moment before continuing in an apologetic tone. “Please do not doubt my dedication, but how can I secure the cave if I am imprisoned in this cell three stories below ground? This was formerly an SPD facility. I know better than any man alive that there is no way out.”

  Harkens eyes lit up with secret delight and a smile appeared on his lips. “Come stand close to me,” he ordered.

  Linsky did as he was instructed.

  Harken reached out with his hand and rested it on Linsky’s shoulder. “Fear not, my loyal friend. I have arranged for your release.”

  Chapter 25

  It has been said that religion is what keeps the poor from murdering the rich. Times have changes since those words were first spoken. Religion in the traditional sense has lost its grip on the masses and such socio-economic distinctions no longer prevail. Yet, there is still a need for mechanisms, levers and pulleys, which can be used to enforce the universal law that leaders must lead and followers must follow. Dedication Theory fills the mystical place in society once occupied by religion and serves a similar purpose of lifting the human spirit. For society to properly function the People must have a set of common goals. They must aspire to something much greater than themselves, or they will yield to their baser desires and throw the nation once more into the chasm of violence and disorder.

  - The Private Correspondence of Malcom Weller.

  “Well Carlos, what are your people telling you?” asked Attika.

  She was standing in front of a large desk in an office located on the third floor of The Residence, the traditional abode of the Grand Guardians. Attika and her Septemberist revolutionaries had converted the elegant nineteenth century mansion located in the northwest part of Liberty into their party headquarters soon after the fall of the PRA. And as the leader of the movement and senior advisor to the recently installed Septemberist government, Attika moved into a suite of rooms that included the spacious office in which she now stood.

  Though largely invisible to the public, Attika exerted considerable influence over the affairs of the Federated States of America by leveraging her position as leader of the Septemberist Party. She used its organizational structure to ensure Septemberists in Congress and those embedded in the bureaucracy behaved in ways that aligned with her overall social and economic goals. The few who dared to diverge from her preferred positions soon found themselves stripped of committee memberships, abused by the press and the public, and in the case of government employees, dismissed from their positions without warning.

  Carlos took off his tan, wide-brimmed hat and sat in an overstuffed leather chair. He stretched out his long legs and crossed them at the ankles.

  “What are my people telling me? You should know. My people are the same as your people,” he replied.

  “Not quite,” said Attika. “You remember the old division of labor before the Revolution. I handle strategy, you handle operations.”

  An ironic laugh escaped Carlos’ lips. “The strategists became the politicians of today while we operations hacks become messengers and spies. Hardly an equitable division of power.”

  “To each according to his nature,” said Attika as she leaned back against the edge of her desk. “You could have had a position of authority in government, but you refused. Are you saying you want a job now?”

  Though difficult to see under his thick dark beard, a sardonic grin curled the corner of Carlos’ mouth. “To each according to his nature,” repeated Carlos, ignoring Attika’s specious offer of employment. “Are you quoting Malcom Weller?”

  “No…maybe,” said Attika as she folded her arms across her chest. “Just tell me what the hell you’re hearing from the rank and file and your friends around the country.”

  “Perhaps you should ask your dog, Bishop,” replied Carlos. “He is your pet informant, is he not?”

  Attika narrowed her eyes upon hearing this challenge. “Bishop serves a very limited but important purpose. You don’t need to worry about him. Now, if you’re done playing the spurned suitor, tell me what you’re hearing.”

  Carlos reflected for a moment then nodded his head. “So now I am a spurned suitor. Okay, I will tell you. I am hearing that the farther away from the Capitol District one gets, sorry, Liberty,” he said with a wink in response to Attika’s warning look, “the less secure and optimistic the people feel, especially as you travel north. This should be no surprise to you, Attika. Poor distribution networks mean food shortages are common. Ancient power stations and rotting lines cause frequent power outages, each one lasting longer than the last. And most troubling, violent crime has people frightened. In some places they are too terrified to leave their homes.”

  “Because of the Storm Front?” asked Attika.

  “Sometimes, but just as often there is a local crime boss.”

  “I’m more concerned about those Storm Front bastards than local thugs.”

  “It does not matter if it is the Storm Front or a local boss who is running things,” retorted Carlos. “The effect is the same – people are rapidly losing faith in the new Congress and the Federated States of America. They believe that the new government cannot offer relief, so they look to their local kingpins for food, employment, and protection. Allegiance shifts from the national government to the crime lords or Storm Front. People are desperate, Attika. They need hope for a better future.”

  Attika pulled her mouth into a tight-lipped frown. “That’s what I’m hearing, too.”

  “No doubt from your dog, Bishop.”

  Without looking up, she said, “Like I said, Carlos. Bishop has his uses.”

  “He’s poisonous, Attika. You use him at great risk.”

  “Never mind Bishop,” she said with an irritated wave of her hand. “What if we increased the Constitutional Guard patrols? What if we recruit more people?”

  Carlos sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Well, the Constitutional Guard is not comprised of the most virtuous people one could wish for, but yes more of them might help calm things down. But they are effective only for the few days a patrol is in the area. The sad story repeats itself wherever they go. They mak
e a few arrests. The magistrate traveling in their company hears cases and passes judgment, then they move on to the next town. The local criminals or Storm Front agents who dominate the area know all they need do is lie low and business will go on as usual when the Conguards are gone.”

  “I’ll instruct Commissioner Corbin to keep his patrols in each place longer. They won’t leave until they’ve caught the big fish.”

  “You know that will not solve the problem, Attika. Those who cooperate in the prosecution of anyone bigger than a minnow are punished, even murdered, as soon as the Guards go.”

  “Then what should I do, Carlos?” snapped Attika. “I need advice, not a parade of complaints.”

  “You want advice? Very well. You can do one of two things. You can declare martial law and send in the army to major cities where they would police the streets and enforce curfews for months, even years to come.”

  “Or?” asked Attika in a tired voice.

  “Or you can call for new elections and permit a longer list of people to stand for office. Many of these crime lords are former PRA officials who lost their jobs when you struck their names from the ballots. This is their way of exacting revenge upon the Septemberist Revolution. Bring the less odious ones into our camp, Attika. Then you can influence them. Otherwise, they will forever be lurking in the shadows, undermining your reforms, attacking whenever the opportunity presents itself.”

  Attika scoffed. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let those jackals into our camp, and I’m not declaring martial law and sending in the army. That was Harken’s way of doing things.”

  Carlos sighed heavily and shook his head. “At least you still have room to make choices, Attika. But do not wait too long. The Conguard is insufficient to restore order through force. And if you are unwilling to open up elections soon, you may not have any other choice but to send in the army.”

  “Elections are out of the question and the army can’t be trusted, Carlos. Both First and Second Army are full of PRA sympathizers. I wouldn’t trust them to guard a fire hydrant.”

  “First Army, perhaps,” agreed Carlos with a shrug. “But the soldiers of General Brandt’s Second Army have nothing but contempt for the PRA.”

  “Not true,” she said wagging a finger. “They have contempt for Harken because of how he nearly starved them to death, but that doesn’t make them supporters of the Revolution. In fact, I’d say they’re more loyal to Brandt than to this new nation.”

  “I see your point,” admitted Carlos. “However, under Brandt’s leadership, I believe they can be counted upon to do their jobs. He’s no Septemberist, I grant you, but he does not wish to see the new nation fail.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure. For an army general, he’s strangely suspicious of anyone in authority. He doesn’t trust what he calls ‘the man on a horse’.”

  “A man on a horse?”

  “Those are his words. He has an almost instinctive reaction against anyone who holds him or herself up as a leader. I guess he thinks people are just supposed to somehow figure everything out for themselves. Nonsense.”

  “Perhaps,” said Carlos with a shrug.

  “What people like Brandt don’t understand,” Attika continued to vent, “is that the kind of independence and self-determination he’d like to see is contingent on a functioning economy and the firm rule of law. We don’t have either. So that means Congress has to assume a lot of authority just to keep the lights on and prevent people from starving.”

  “What does Brandt say to that?” asked Carlos as he ran his fingertips through his beard.

  “I don’t know and probably never will. The mighty victor over Third Army resigned his commission.” She looked at Carlos, whose eyes were wide with surprise. “Before you go into a panic, let me just say it’s probably for the best. It gives me a chance to reshape Second Army, improve discipline, and ensure loyalty.”

  “Brandt resigned?” said Carlos as much to himself as to Attika. “He did much to bring down Harken and give the new government space to grow.”

  “He was just doing his job,” grumbled Attika. “Anyway, he’s been nothing but trouble since capturing Linsky. Let him play space cowboy and go fight the Sahiradin on alien planets. In the meantime, I’ve seen to it that Vessey was elevated to Chief of Military Operations. He’s a survivor; he’ll do as instructed.”

  Carlos turned his hat in his hands as he considered what Attika had just shared. Young, bold, and inspiring, Logan Brandt had served well as the hero Attika needed to transition the Septemberist Revolution from an insurgency to a viable alternative to Guardian rule. But his rejection of many of the Septemberists’ most fundamental doctrines had cast a shadow over his relations with the movement’s leaders, especially Attika. Carlos knew that Attika had always planned to force Brandt out. It would seem that time had finally come.

  “Who will you chose to replace him?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Attika as she carefully pulled a lock of gray-tinged hair away from the plate on her skull. “Besides, it’s not my decision. Congress must decide.”

  “Of course,” said Carlos, unable to hide his amusement. “It’s not your decision. Congress must decide. Still,” he continued before Attika could reprimand him, “we have a significant challenge ahead of us. You have heard my recommendations. What shall we do?”

  “We’ll try harder,” said Attika with her chin raised defiantly. “We’ll fight fire with fire. We’ll prosecute the local bosses and go to war against the Storm Front. Maybe it’s time to execute Linsky. I’ve been keeping him around to squeeze him for as much information as possible, but I think he’s outgrown his usefulness. As long as he lives, the Storm Front has hope he’ll return to them.”

  “Putting a man like that on trial poses many dangers,” said Carlos. “He is an effective and manipulative speaker. And his supporters will become more aggressive if they see him on the docket.”

  “Believe me, he won’t get a chance to say much. And as for his Storm Front, a big public trial will flush them out of hiding. There’d be a few months of hard fighting, but at least we’d be done with it.”

  “Many innocents will suffer, and you might lose what little sympathy remains among the people for the Septemberist Revolution.”

  “With Linsky gone and the Storm Front destroyed, we’d be their only alternative,” said Attika confidently. “It will be worth the pain. Like a fever burns away the virus, open war would rid us of the last traces of the Guardian disease.”

  “And what if waging war leads to a counter-revolution? Do not underestimate the hold the PRA still has on the hearts of many, especially in the north. Life was very good for them under the Guardians, much better than today.”

  “Delaying the fight won’t help,” said Attika, now resolved to take bold action. “It’s time to remove the remaining cysts of Harken’s failed rule. I’ll arrange for Linsky’s swift prosecution and execution. I’ll also get the Conguard ready, too. But I’ll need you to go back out on the trails and backroads. Gather information, especially about the Storm Front. Motivate your friends to act when the time comes and get the old network going again. Can you do that?”

  Carlos released a sigh of deep fatigue and slowly got to his feet. “I can, but since you have chosen war instead of new elections, I recommend that you boost the security in this lovely mansion of yours. Hell’s coming to dinner, Attika. You had better be ready.”

  Chapter 26

  Whatever work you take upon yourself to do, do it with all of your might. Time is fleeting. If you cannot follow this simple command, stop what you are doing. Step back and breathe deeply. Look about you. Seek that which brings you joy and do it. The work performed today strengthens your spirit and prepares you for your union with the ancestors. Therefore, do not undertake today that which does not strengthen and prepare you to cross that great bridge into the Beyond. Do not go unsatisfied, warped, or angry. Go in full strength of spirit. Go joyfully, ready and eager to undertake the new w
ork that awaits you.

  - The Nondoborodon (Song of the Grenn), Scroll IX.

  Battleship Havoc suddenly appeared in high orbit over the Tullan-controlled moon of Hykso, lifeless rock orbiting the gas giant, Ipuri Bara. The site of numerous and varied manufacturing facilities, Hykso was also a significant source of raw materials for the Tullans, ranging from minerals and ore deposits to rare isotopes. An integral part of the broader Tullan economy, Hykso had long been considered a weak link in the Alliance’s chain of defenses. Losing it would cripple the production of numerous civilian and military goods. Its destruction would also serve to frustrate the Tullans even more and nudge them closer to leaving the Alliance and declaring their neutrality.

  Dozens of sentinel drones stationed around Hykso immediately sprang to life and darted toward the Sahiradin battleship. They fired particle beams from all angles and launched a swarm of ballistic weapons. Havoc returned fire, destroying several drones, but more soon appeared from the moon’s far side or rose from the surface to join in the fight. If enough of them could gather and coordinate fire, even a battleship the size of Havoc would be at risk of destruction.

  On the bridge of the Sahiradin vessel, the sound of blaring alarms pulled Harken out of his post-communion daze. He was surrounded by Sahiradin warriors who now leaped into action following their appearance over Hykso. He looked at the large view screen just as a ground-based ion canon hurled a crackling ball of blue energy toward them. The Sahiradin deployed four defense pods which flew in the direction of the ion charge. Moments later, a shimmering red screen appeared between the pods, just in time to absorb the energy of the ion charge, preventing it from reaching Havoc. Sentinel droids quickly destroyed the pods, but precious time had been lost. The battleship was now directly above the main production facility.

  Still disoriented by the effects of the communion, Harken felt someone take him by the arm and pull him to the side. His right hand was pried open and the Kaiytáva, the Apollo Stone, was extracted. Despite his hazy vision, he saw how it still glowed yellow, green, and red before turning completely black. It was immediately handed to Kurak, who carefully examined it before walking to a large circular machine with a thin cylinder in it center. As rough hands took hold of Harken and led him away, the former Grand Guardian watched Kurak place the Apollo Stone into the heart of an energy field within the cylinder which then descended into the heart of the machine.