Patriarch's Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 6)

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Patriarch's Hope (The Seafort Saga Book 6) Page 31

by David Feintuch


  “Yes, sir.”

  I rang off.

  “Why are you out of bed?” Dr. Ghenili, from the doorway, peering past Derek.

  “Leave us alone.” My voice was tight.

  “I told you, fifteen minutes a day. Any more and you’ll injure yourself.”

  “We have a crisis.”

  “I don’t care. You’re due for a session with the growth stimulator. The orderlies will take you—”

  “Out!” It was a snarl. “This instant!”

  He retreated, shock and hurt mingling.

  “Bevin, shut the door!” I worked my pants over my leg, as the hatch slid shut in my savior’s face.

  In a medical conference room, framed by a white drape, I rubbed my knee, glad of its familiar ache.

  What in God’s own Hell was keeping them? The circuit should be established by now. “Jerence?”

  No answer. I rubbed my sweating palms.

  Galactic. I tried to wipe its image from my mind. Our magnificent new ship, opulent corridors sparkling, passengers settling into their elegant staterooms. The vigilant purser and his mates, smoothing every concern. Courteous young middies, hurrying to their duties in that stride just short of a run that would earn them demerits. Laser turrets, bristling from the hull.

  And on the gleaming bridge, a cancer had metastasized and was coursing through my beloved Navy.

  And the worst of it was that I’d had warning. Robbie Boland tried to tell me the Navy had gone awry. Hazen, too. Even Derek. Smug in my authority as SecGen, I’d ignored them all.

  Under my nose, they’d replaced loyal Admirals with their own men. Dubrovik, injured and shunted aside. McKay. Idly, I’d even asked Branstead if it was an accident. But I hadn’t investigated.

  Unwilling to deal with distasteful politics, I hadn’t even confronted Admiralty. Not about politicized officers, or the folly of Galactic, or cancellation of the new fleet.

  I’d left them to their anxieties and fears.

  My smug blindness had fomented rebellion.

  If I abandoned the clinic, I risked lifelong paralysis. In no event could I return to Earth, direct my Government’s response.

  No matter; even were I mobile, what could I do?

  Resign. Accept the consequences of my folly.

  No. Not yet.

  I would play it out.

  I had no time to write a speech. I would speak off the cuff. I would ask the world’s help, ask time to resolve the crisis. Ask their patience. It was all I could do.

  Sixteen hundred thirty hours. A silent circuit, to the Rotunda.

  Across the conference room, out of holocam view, Arlene, Derek, Mikhael, two solemn boys in gray. Anselm was back from Lunapolis Base, properly dressed. If he resented his forced return to childhood, he gave no sign. Perhaps the coup had driven it from his mind. He said that indenting for his grays at the Naval base, he’d noticed nothing out of the ordinary. Interesting.

  I glared at the holocam. I was one of the few in public life who hated visuals, and rarely used them.

  Where in Lord God’s name was Branstead? It was sixteen forty-five. If we waited much longer, Valera would be on the nets.

  “Are you there, Mr. SecGen?”

  I jumped. “Yes.”

  “Sorry, but the situation is ... strained. Valera’s men ... they demanded your office. I’ve been stalling. I don’t see you. All we have is audio.”

  “Derek!”

  He fiddled with the holocam.

  “Here, let me, sir.” Bevin, eager. Derek stood aside. The boy tapped the keys. In a moment we had full visuals.

  “Sir, Valera’s on the air!” Jerence.

  “Can we cut in?”

  “I doubt the nets would let us.”

  I fumed. “The moment he’s done!”

  “Right.”

  Valera spoke solemnly of the tragedy of my death, and further tragedy to be averted. Of my misguided idealism.

  He praised the patriotism of the Navy. I muttered curses without end, until Arlene reached across, took my hand.

  The Senate and Assembly were in session even as Valera spoke. In moments, they would, by voice vote, permanently table the enviro bills. Afterward, he would speak again.

  He’d left me no time. Before I could rally public opinion, the issue would be lost.

  The screen went blank.

  The whole purpose of my speech was confounded.

  “Now, Mr. SecGen. You’re on in three ... two ...”

  I smoothed my hair, straightened my tie.

  “One ... go!”

  “I am Secretary-General Seafort. I was not injured in the cowardly attack that destroyed my home. I speak to you today from an undisclosed location, where I rally loyal U.N. forces to suppress the rebellion led by Captain Ulysses Stanger of Galactic.”

  It wasn’t enough, and I knew it. In moments, by repudiating our legislation, the Senate and Assembly would endorse Stanger’s coup.

  There was left only the unthinkable.

  So be it.

  “By authority of the Charter of the United Nations, by the grace of Lord God, I now declare martial law. The U.N. Charter is suspended throughout Earth, Lunapolis, Earthport Station, and all home system’s colonies, ships, and stations.”

  My words rang out in the hushed clinic.

  “The Senate and General Assembly of the United Nations are dissolved. All their edicts, proclamations, acts, and decrees issued henceforth, I declare void. Now do I, Nicholas Ewing Seafort, assume personal government of the worlds.”

  Part III

  October, in the Year of our Lord 2241

  17

  CISNO VALERA WAS unreachable.

  Derek took charge of the clinic. On the considerable authority of his steely personality, he had the administrator postpone or cancel appointments. The staff that didn’t know of my presence—most of them—was sent home. He stationed Bevin and Anselm at the clinic’s outer hatch, with my precious laser, one of our only two weapons. Arlene had the other.

  It was a stopgap measure. I’d have to find secure quarters. More important, I had to find allies. Despite my brave words, I didn’t dare show myself, and had no forces under my command.

  Branstead reestablished contact an hour after my broadcast. “Sir, it’s ... difficult. Squads of U.N.A.F. roam the halls. No one’s sure whom to trust. Or who’s in command.”

  “Where’s Valera?” Seconds passed, while my words flew to Earth, and his sped back.

  “At the Assembly. They’ve set up a headquarters.”

  “He’s gone over?” I’d hoped my declaration would steady him.

  “I don’t know. Probably. When can you come groundside?”

  Not for weeks, according to Ghenili. If I subjected myself to a full one gee, I might lie on my back the rest of my life.

  “Not yet, Jerence.” I massaged my spine. The pain was worse. “Set up a relay to Stanger.” I had still to hide my whereabouts, and communicating through the Rotunda would produce the expected lag.

  “Very well, sir. Visuals?”

  “No. Well, yes.” I needed to see Stanger, to appraise his state.

  In an hour, the Rotunda puter was ready. We made contact with Galactic.

  “Mr. SecGen.” Stanger was haggard. He spoke from his bridge. “We need an end to this.”

  “I agree.”

  “Despite your speech, we still hold the cards. I don’t want to cause deaths. Will you cooperate?”

  “What, exactly, do you want?”

  “Drop your enviro package. That includes the five percent greenhouse gas reduction you proposed earlier. Use the funds to speed construction of Olympiad and her sister hulls. A public pledge to expand the Navy to its full pre-war complement.”

  “How do you know I’d follow through?”

  He said simply, “You’ll give me your word.”

  “It’s better than your oath?”

  He flushed. “You left us no choice. I don’t know how you corralled enough Senators to pas
s your insane enviro fantasies. We were sure they’d stand firm. Your plan would gut the Navy.”

  “Not so. It would slow the growth—”

  “Sir, ships are vital. The colonies are restless. We can’t afford another Hope Nation.”

  In the side of my vision, Derek frowned.

  “So you mutinied.”

  “Against what, sir? The Government is of Lord God. We have His support.”

  “Presumptuous of you.”

  “Don’t you believe the Patriarchs represent Him?”

  “They’ve taken no stand.” I spoke with an assurance I didn’t feel.

  “Not in public.” He glanced aside. “Later, Mr. Speke.” To me, “Sir, I’ve tried to show good faith. We could have blasted the Rotunda to ashes while you spoke. We didn’t. Do you want me to open fire?”

  “No.”

  “Then you haven’t much choice. If a single groundside laser targets Galactic, we’ll return fire with everything we have. So will Earthport and Lunapolis. Give us our ships, and put a halt to this enviro madness.”

  “Why, damn it? Why?”

  “We need ships to hold the colonies, the colonies to safeguard our supply of grain and ores. Earth will remain strong, Mr. SecGen, despite your glitched enviro cohorts.”

  “And if I give you my word?” At that, Bevin grimaced in dismay.

  “You’ll put it in writing, of course. A treaty, or memorandum between the Government and the Navy. Then you’re free to go.”

  “Go?”

  “I want you aloft, aboard Galactic. No political aides, no troops, no Marines. Just you. We’ll cement our understanding.”

  “When?”

  “Day after tomorrow, at the latest.” Wednesday. “Sir, Admiral Hoi has an eye on incoming shuttles from Earth and Lunapolis, but I’ll want your word you won’t try anything. Don’t try to storm Galactic. We’ve innocent civilians aboard, and besides, you don’t want to damage the most powerful ship in your arsenal.”

  “MY arsenal?”

  “It was, and will be again, sir.” Stanger’s voice wavered. “I hate what you’re making us do. I want to be loyal.” He glanced away, at an officer off-camera. “Let me know in three hours, else we’ll be forced to show our power.”

  “How?”

  “From Earthport, Lunapolis Base, and Galactic, we have our choice of targets. I. want this over with, so we’ll go for maximum effect. Major cities. Paris, Madrid, Sydney. Caracas. The civilian warrens of Lunapolis. Don’t look so shocked that we’re as ruthless as you.” His blue eyes met mine, unflinching.

  “You’ll kill thousands. Millions.”

  “If you make it necessary.”

  “Very well. Three hours.” Fuming, I cut the connection. “Branstead!”

  “Here, sir.”

  “Cut orders for U.N.A.F. installations with a clear line of fire.”

  “They may not comply.”

  “But some will.” If I was forced to give the order.

  “I want to consult Robbie Boland and Senator McGhan.”

  “You’ll do no such thing.” I glared, but he couldn’t see me; I’d rolled away from the intellilens. “They’re removed from office with the rest of the Senate.” I rang off.

  “Well?” Derek raised an eyebrow. “How will you fight?”

  “Do we know who’s with us?” My question wasn’t clear. “Has Lunapolis Base truly gone over to the rebels?”

  “Captain Simovich is—”

  “Yes, but what about his sailors? If I go to the warren, will they let me assume command?”

  “You can’t take the risk.” Arlene.

  “It’s my job.”

  “If they capture you, who’d rally the Government? Valera? Kahn?”

  Tad Anselm stirred. “I could go—”

  “Be silent.” She didn’t even look at him.

  I needed all the help I could get. “Go on, Tad.”

  “I could go back to the Naval warrens, wander around. Pretend I was delivering a message. See what the talk is.”

  “They’d tell you nothing. You’re just a cadet.”

  He flushed. I hadn’t meant it as criticism.

  “No cadets are stationed at Lunapolis,” I added gently. “You’d stand out like a sore thumb. And they just saw you dressed in middy blues. If I go, perhaps I can rally the Naval base.”

  “And start a civil war,” said Arlene. “Simovich is their commander.”

  “If we get control of their lasers—”

  “We can target Galactic. And she can target us. How many would die?”

  In my mind, alarms shrieked. Airlock doors slammed shut, crushing the unlucky. Warrens crumbled in thick clouds of dust.

  Smoke, screams, the crush of rock. And then there was Galactic, its immense cost wasted. Hundreds writhing in the merciless laser light. For a fortunate few, vacuum.

  The vision faded. “No,” I agreed. “We won’t provoke war.”

  Yet if we gave in, I’d foment enviro disaster. And the Naval dictatorship would inevitably grow, not wither.

  I was helpless. I could call no Army, no Navy, no political allies.

  There was nothing but resignation and disgrace.

  “Nick.” Derek rested his hands on my shoulders. “There’s nothing between war and surrender.”

  I thought a very long while. My heart beat faster. “Isn’t there?”

  I set down the caller, Commandant Hazen’s questions ringing in my ears. I’d finally snarled an acid remark about obeying orders, or giving over Academy to someone prepared to set a better example. Unfair. I’d only called him because I was almost certain of his loyalty.

  By now he should be on his way.

  I waited impatiently for Branstead’s call. Finally it came. “Well?”

  “Lincroft, Andersen, Polluck ...” And four other Naval officers, all members of the Board of Admiralty.

  “That’s all?”

  “Bondell and Petrov refused. ‘Personal reasons.’ The rest are out of touch.” Branstead sounded ironic.

  Seven out of fifteen, I would convene a rump board.

  “Dismiss Bondell and Petrov,” I said. “Give the rest two hours to answer your call, then do the same. What have you told the seven?”

  “That they’re to meet in London this evening. Admiral Thorne’s been summoned back to duty. He’ll pass along your orders.”

  I could rely on Jeff Thorne. For anything. “The shuttle’s ready?”

  “Yes, sir. You’re sure? It complicates matters.”

  “It has to be face-to-face, and I can’t go to them.”

  “Reconsider, sir. Let me come aloft too.”

  “No.” Branstead was a civilian, and no longer young. I wanted him out of harm’s way.

  A sigh. “What’s left to do?”

  “Leave the Rotunda. Lie low.” I cleared my throat. “Jerence, when this is done ...”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “Don’t say what?”

  “That you may not be coming back. This is another of your harebrained schemes, isn’t it?”

  “Nonsense.” My tone was gruff.

  “You forget, sir, I was with you on Trafalgar. And I saw you nuke Orbit Station. Whatever you have in mind, let someone younger, more agile, do it. Someone—”

  “That’s quite enough, Jerence.” I had no one to carry out my hapless plan, and besides, I might be called on to make some small measure of atonement.

  His tone was somber. “You’ll call me?”

  “Before dawn, Eastern.”

  “I’ll be up. Godspeed.”

  When I rang off, Arlene massaged my shoulders. It helped. “Nicky, you’re going to tell me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Now.”

  “No.” She might still try to stop me. I temporized. “It’s almost time to call Stanger.” The slightest miscalculation on my part, and my slim hopes were dashed. With great difficulty, I persuaded her to go to the hotel to retrieve P.T. and Jared. If Stanger contemplated bombing Luna
polis, I wanted our party together.

  I waited for the connection, reminding myself Stanger still thought I was on Earth. I would have to insert a small pause before each reply.

  “Stanger.”

  “I’ll come to Galactic.” Idly, I rubbed my aching knee.

  A sigh, that might have been relief. “Very well.”

  “You want me there Wednesday?”

  “The longer we wait, the more chance some hothead will open fire.”

  “I agree. I’ll make shuttle arrangements. You have my oath that I’ll be on Galactic Wednesday next.”

  “No tricks. No weapons, no military forces. Just you.”

  “Captain Stanger, I swear to you by Lord God that I will come to Galactic alone and unarmed, that I will bring aboard no Marines, U.N.A.F. troops, or Naval officers. Or sailors, for that matter. Not even a London jerry.”

  A chuckle.

  I asked, “Will you be prepared to negotiate?”

  “Only to draft the memorandum we spoke of. No changes.”

  “I may try to persuade you otherwise.” My tone was sardonic. “Anything else?” I held my breath.

  “You swear all this without reservation? You will put nobody armed onto Galactic, including yourself?”

  “Yes. My solemn oath. Alone, unarmed, Wednesday.”

  “As an act of good faith, tell me your whereabouts.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “There are others with me you might harm.”

  “You son of ...” He left it unfinished.

  “Stanger, how many of your crew are aware of what you’ve done?” He controlled his comm room; it was possible no one aboard Galactic save a few officers knew of his perfidy.

  “I’ve told those who need to know. They’ll be sailing with me. We’re off to Constantine, you know, when we take on our remaining passengers. We’re loading our last supplies even now.”

  The gall of the man. A minor mutiny, an overthrow of government, and then a routine cruise. I found myself trembling.

  “Good day, sir.”

  “Really, son, I’m fine now. There’s no need for you to stay.”

  “Fath, why are you so grim?”

  “I’ve a lot on my mind.”

 

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