One thought that particularly stuck in Vereshchagin’s mind was Raul Sanmartin’s comment that time dilation itself was a small death. They would leave Suid-Afrika for two years and return to find that seven had passed. Vereshchagin knew that Sanmartin had chosen a large death to escape a small one.
Jankowskie approached. “Sir, the shuttle’s ready to dock.”
“All right, Detlef.”
“Sir,” Jankowskie asked hesitantly, “we’ve done an awful lot of damage down there.” Jankowskie could see where errant missiles from Tokyo’s defenders had smashed into housing areas, and the area around the USS Building was a ruin. Like tiny ants in the ship’s surveillance equipment, police and firemen were working to keep the fires in the ministry buildings from spreading.
“I think that there is one reason why they will not come after us, Detlef,” Vereshchagin said carefully. “Given the history of military rule in Japan, the Japanese elite fear giving the military forces any role in governing the country. We have demonstrated that they cannot continue their current policies with military half measures. Given a choice between granting the military forces the power they would need to make Japan secure and letting the colonial planets and the nations on Earth travel their own road, I think that they will choose to let the colonies go.”
“Do you think they might offer to let Suid-Afrika go in exchange for your hide?” Henke asked.
“I would go willingly,” Vereshchagin said with a trace of humor. “But presumably they would have to try me, and I do not think that they would want that.”
“Docking completed,” Esko Poikolainnen reported.
“It is time to go home,” Vereshchagin said.
When someone explained to Hans Coldewe what had happened with the Lightwell Gomani, he caught his breath and then buried himself in the frigate’s library, to reread Paradise Lost and Milton’s magnificent description of Lucifer’s burning descent into hell.
Reprise
TAKEN INTO CUSTODY, CAPTAIN CHIHARU YOSHIDA WAS IMMEDI-
ately tried in secret by a military court and executed. Several months later, Hiroshi Mizoguchi was brought before a civilian court and given seven years imprisonment. Leaving the courtroom, he was assassinated by a right-wing organization. His widow applied for permission to emigrate to a colonial world.
Several of Vereshchagin’s staff college classmates received thoughtful letters from him that Coldewe had posted. At the height of the controversy, after the government resigned and clashes erupted between the violently patriotic societies and militantly antimilitaristic, anticorporate coalitions, the Keeper of the Privy Seal, another of Vereshchagin’s staff college classmates, published a response to a letter he had received from Vereshchagin and passed on to His Imperial Majesty.
As one commentator explained, “A good war might unite the nation behind a single purpose. Unfortunately, Suid-Afrika is much too small and far away for this.”
EPILOGUE
In orbit, Suid-Afrika Tuesday (789)
MANNING THE INSTRUMENTS ON THE HENDRIK PIENAAR, NICOLAS
Seiy waved his hand excitedly. “Captain Jankowskie, there’s a ship coming in!”
“All right. Everyone to action stations,” Jankowskie ordered. As his crew took up their places with quiet efficiency, he asked Sery, “What kind is she?”
“It’s a freighter.”
Jankowskie whistled with relief. “All right. Get her in a parking orbit so we can make sure she’s not a Q-ship, and let Matti and the Variag know.”
“Sir, they’re hailing us,” Sery said. “They say that they have an envoy aboard.”
ALBERT BEYERS ROSE TO GREET THE SLIM JAPANESE OFFICIAL WHO
entered his office. “Heer Maeda. Welcome to Suid-Afrika.” “Thank you.” Maeda offered his credentials.
“Please sit down,” Beyers said, awkwardly playing the diplomatic game.
“Thank you.” Maeda sat. “Please excuse me for asking, but was that a child that I saw working in your outer office?” “Yes, that is my adopted daughter. She tells me that she will be the president of the republic someday. When she grows up.” “She seemed quite determined,” Maeda said.
“Please excuse me for asking directly, Heer Maeda, but what is the position of the Imperial Government toward my people?”
“That is a difficult question,” Maeda said, obviously amused. “There has been unpleasantness in the past and there are many issues which will need to be resolved.”
“If the Imperial Government declines to recognize our right to self-government, I am afraid that there may be more unpleasantness,” Beyers said with utter candor.
Noting his anxiety, Maeda unbent slightly. “Is that so? I assure you from my inmost feelings that the imperial Government is committed to fostering cooperation and harmony.”
“Hopefully, our people will be able to exchange the fusion metals we have stockpiled on a more mutually advantageous basis than has existed in the past.”
Maeda smiled. “You will have to discuss this directly with the company which succeeded to the interests of United Steel-Standard, but it is always better for different peoples to work things out on a mutually agreeable basis. Perhaps 1 can make inquiries.”
“Perhaps. I will also see what can be arranged.” Beyers hesitated. “I am reluctant to bring this matter up, but what is the attitude of the Imperial Government toward Lieutenant-Colonel Vereshchagin and the men who participated in the attack?” Maeda’s smile broadened. “Lieutenant-Colonel Vereshchagin? He and his soldiers died when they attacked the USS Building in Tokyo, neh? That is what the newspapers said. Such a tragic misunderstanding. Military operations of any kind are very costly. The clause in Japan’s constitution which has always prohibited military forces other than self-defense forces is a very wise one. Still, one has to admire the sincerity of his purpose.” “Yes, of course,” Beyers said, taken aback. “Of course.” Listening in on the conversation, Harjalo commented, “It’s almost as if nothing happened.”
Vereshchagin tapped his pipe against his thigh. Absently, he took out a small package of pipe tobacco, broke the seal on it, and began awkwardly stuffing it into the bowl of the pipe. “Sometimes, that is best.”
As Vereshchagin patted his pockets for a source of flame, Harjalo grinned and handed him a lighter.
WHILE THE PEOPLE WERE STILL CELEBRATING IN THE STREETS, Al-
bert Beyers made the Assembly swallow “The Whistling Pig” as Suid-Afrika’s national anthem. After procrastinating for years on the issue to avoid irritating the cowboys and the sects, he told them it was that or bagpipes.
One of Hanna Bruwer’s former pupils came up with a final verse for the song.
The pig came home from warring and began to sing a song,
“My planet isn’t perfect but it’s closer right than wrong. ”
He wore a sprig of laurel, and he waved an olive twig,
And he whistled to the people so he’d be a whistling Pig!
“Oh, we’re having a war, and we want you to come!”
So the pig began to whistle and to pound on a drum. “We’ll give you a gun, and we’ll give you a hat!”
And the pig began to whistle when they told the piggies that.
The pig put on his webbing, and they marched him up and down,
He did it with a whistle, so they gave him sand to pound. He crossed the burning desert, and he trekked the arctic night And they made him do it over so he’d learn to do it right.
The pig cleaned up his webbing, and he shined his bayonet, Some people started shooting so he shot them with regret. He couldn’t work an office, and he couldn’t be a clerk,
For pigs who like to whistle like to whistle while they work.
The pig went on vacations, to planets near and far,
For fighting wars on schedule, is very good PR.
The admirals love the piggies, and natives think them swell, At least they often say so after putting them through hell.
Wars are sometimes over a
nd they debited his pay,
They took away his hat and they took his gun away,
They told him they were thankful and they split him north to south
And they fried him with a whistle and an apple in his mouth!
Robert Frezza - [Colonial War 02] Page 38