Hero of the Republic: (The Parasite Initiative, Book 1)

by Britt Ringel

  “Well done, Sebastian,” Fane approved. “You know how much I dislike being made to wait.”

  * * *

  “The motion passes,” President Matthews declared, hammering his gavel onto the wooden pedestal on his mammoth desk. The sound echoed throughout the enormous, three-story chamber. Emanating outward from the president’s desk, in a semi-circle, were five large, oval desks holding representatives from the senior voting systems of the General Council: Lysithea, New London, Bree, Ariel and Titan. Behind each oval sat smaller, rectangular desks for the provincial systems that fell under their district masters, each manned by three to six junior officials. Behind them, the chamber was littered with hundreds of strategically placed chairs for the rest of the subjacent voting, minor star systems of the Brevic Republic. Far to the back, less elaborate seating was available for authorized citizens.

  Dozens of discussions broke out after the president’s announcement. After several minutes, Matthews again rapped his gavel to bring the chamber back to order. “Next on the agenda is Amendment Thirty-seven to Bill Ninety-one Dash Six under mineral extraction standards. The floor is open for five minutes of debate.”

  As was typical, none of the General Council members advanced to the extravagantly decorated podium at the front of the chamber to speak in favor of or against the bill. Matthews waited the required first minute before declaring, “Nonparticipation will close the floor to debate unless objected to.” After another pause, he rapped the gavel again. “Voting is now open. This is a priority council-member only vote.”

  Behind Matthews, a gigantic wall screen displayed a running vote total for the current bill along with a countdown. The overwhelming majority of the screen was dim as only the twenty-four district and provincial star systems were eligible to participate.

  Seated along the periphery, Sebastian Brewer’s eyes never wavered from his datapad. The current bill, a slight adjustment upward in the maximum radiation exposure standards for belt miners, held no professional or personal interest. His sole focus lay upon the next bill. Despite decades of experience in political wrangling, he still grew nervous during times such as these but then, the stakes had never been higher.

  Adira Fane sat to his left, staring at her own datapad. She was her typical inscrutable self, showing no evidence of how much she had staked on the day’s events. The minister hardly moved, just the slightest flick of a finger over the screen of her pad, as if she were in torpor. Brewer had known her more than half of his life yet vast sections of her being still remained a mystery. He had worked with her during the more physical service of their lives and she had been a marvel to behold. Later, he had witnessed her transformation from the Republic’s corporal juggernaut to an ethereal architect yet, still, he likened each encounter with her to stroking a magnificent tiger. It baffled him that even after half a century, being at Adira Fane’s side still sent chills through him.

  Most people would mistake Fane’s dispassionate demeanor as evidence of a woman devoid of feeling. Brewer knew the exact opposite was true. He had seen the times when Agent Fane unbridled her emotions and fed from them as a desert might an oasis. During those fearsome times, the impregnable shield of control was never lost but her determination for accomplishing her goals surpassed unreal.

  “The amendment passes,” President Matthews announced. “Next on the agenda is an addendum to the funding of Bill Ninety-six Dash One, Zero, Four. The floor is open to five minutes of debate.”

  Brewer took a subconscious breath and held it. He subtly scanned the room as standard banter filled the chamber. The controlled chaos ground on in its methodical, unremarkable way. Fane’s attention remained solely on the world inside her datapad.

  A glint of movement caught Brewer’s attention. Councilman Sandoval was circling New London’s oval desk accompanied by a younger, though still distinguished-looking woman. The pair orbited the elliptical table and made their way steadfastly toward the center podium.

  When Sandoval arrived behind it, he spoke timidly at first. “Mr. President, may New London be recognized?”

  President Matthews shot an irritated or perhaps hesitant look around the chamber before answering, “New London is now recognized. The chamber will come to order.” He slammed the gavel on his desk and the side conversations in the room died down, though did not extinguish. “Proceed, Councilman Sandoval.”

  Sandoval nodded to Matthews. “Thank you, Mr. President.” He cleared his throat and looked, uncertainly, toward the younger woman who docked her datapad to the podium’s station. He increased the volume of his voice considerably, killing the remaining discussions in the room. “Esteemed council members, I speak today with a grave warning that demands our attention.” The councilman brought a hand up above his eyes as a visor while asking, “Is a representative of the Ministry of Intelligence present today?”

  Brewer felt a jolt run through his body. Over the last decades, he had always sought to avoid the political spotlight. Careers melted under those lights. He stood.

  At the podium, the woman leaned toward Sandoval and whispered something in his ear.

  Sandoval’s voice increased its intensity. “Secretary Brewer.” He shook his head disgustedly. “Is that the minister herself seated next to you? I would prefer to address the serpent that would poison our Republic!”

  Gasps echoed through the chamber. For the first time in half a decade, every soul present was squarely focused on the floor’s debate.

  “Minister Fane,” Sandoval pressed cruelly, “a senior councilman has asked you to stand.”

  Brewer looked to his side and watched Fane rise deliberately from her chair. He remained standing next to her.

  “Esteemed council members,” Sandoval continued, “Bill Ninety-six Dash One, Zero, Four is known by another name in the shadowy circles where treachery exists, Project Pied Piper. I have uncovered a most nefarious plot designed to steal untold trillions of credits from the people in some self-serving adventurism conceived and hidden from us by Minister Fane.” He gestured behind him at the wall screen while passionately declaring, “The reprehensible and illegal purpose of this so-called Project Pied Piper remains unclear but my sources inside the Ministry of Intelligence have heroically provided me the data you see now.”

  The product of Faith Lawson’s years of dedication, guided by the mysterious Mr. Wright, scrolled down the enormous wall screen. Credit totals siphoned off from minor programs across the Republic aggregated into an ever-increasing amount.

  Sandoval gestured fiercely as he elevated the volume of his speech. “These are Republic funds, stolen from us. Ripped from the people!” he nearly screamed theatrically. He looked down at the podium as if to rein in his outrage. After a moment, he continued at a more refined pace. “We can only speculate as to the depths of Fane’s duplicity but we dare not turn our righteous eyes away from a gorgon who would devour our cherished ideals while we sleep.” He turned to face the wall screen. The projections of embezzled money had finally totaled and he swept an arm toward the figure. “This is irrefutable proof of malfeasance, my fellow council members. Look at those amounts! And to what purpose? Imagine the treachery this sum could finance.” He faced Fane once again. “I dare Minister Fane to explain her treachery. In fact, I insist upon it!”

  Narrow shoulders slumped as wisps of Fane’s silver mane cascaded down her back. The woman walked with a great difficulty to the front of the Republic’s most hallowed chamber. She passed Sandoval as he retreated from the podium but her eyes never left their target.

  Standing in front of the Republic’s governing body, Fane’s first action was to adjust the microphone. She grappled with the instrument, clearly uncertain how to lower it from over her head. After several moments, she admitted defeat and resorted to raising her normally downturned posture. The effect gave her a noble mien.

  Most people in the enormous chamber had never seen Adira Fane before, let alone heard her speak. Her rich contralto immediately enraptured her audience.
“President Matthews, Councilman Sandoval, Secretary Lawson and other, humble representatives of the Republic. I am honored to speak to you today.” She twisted awkwardly to gaze at Matthews. “In order to respond to the accusations of treason from Councilman Sandoval, I must request that my response be sine auribus. Councilman Sandoval may feel it is justified to leak classified intelligence to our enemies but I would prefer not.”

  Matthews, almost as if on cue, announced, “This meeting is now sine auribus. Recording devices are now turned off. Any discussion of Minister Fane’s response is bound by Republic laws regarding classified materials.” After receiving confirmation, he stated, “Continue, Madam Minister.”

  Fane tugged at Lawson’s datapad with shaking hands, unsuccessfully attempting to displace it from the docking station. The minister’s face swayed toward Lawson and smiled malevolently. “Dear, could you remove this?”

  Lawson stepped back to the podium and undocked her datapad. Before she could retreat from the minister, Fane invited her to become the instrument of her own destruction.

  “Dear, now dock mine to the podium.”

  After fulfilling the simple request, Lawson hurriedly backed away from the malignant presence, eager to retreat to Sandoval and the relative safety of New London’s table.

  “Councilman Sandoval and his assistant have accused the Ministry of Intelligence, and myself specifically, of a plot to steal from the Republic via Project Pied Piper. He launches these allegations despite having, himself, voted in favor of funding Pied Piper via Bill Ninety-six Dash One, Zero, Four initially and in two subsequent years. In fact, the senior council members have overwhelmingly voted to continue this project hosted by the Intelligence Ministry for the last six years.” She cast a withering look toward the councilman. “I expect the fact that each of you is complicit in this so-called treason holds little meaning for him. It saddens me that a senior councilman would so openly and blatantly disparage the governing body of the Republic. He demeans all of us and by doing so, he demeans the very Republic we have sworn to serve.”

  “What is the true nature of Pied Piper, Madam Minister!” Sandoval shouted. “I voted to fund the bill based on the misinformation provided by you and your ilk!”

  Matthews brought his gavel down repeatedly. “Order! The councilman is out of order!”

  “What is it, you treacherous snake!” Sandoval cried from New London’s table.

  Matthews slammed his gavel on the pedestal. “I will have order or I will censure you, Mr. Councilman!” He turned toward Fane. “The question is out of order; you don’t have to answer it.”

  “I will answer it, Mr. President,” Fane stated defiantly. “I will do so not because of one man’s ranting in the dark but because the appearance of impropriety might give the good citizens of our Republic reason to fear its responsible government.” She tapped the surface of her datapad.

  The wall screen flickered. Gone was the labyrinth of spreadsheets and graphs. In its place was a star chart of the systems surrounding New Roma. The new borders on the map were bitter reminders of what had changed with the ending of the Brevic-Hollaran War. The former colonies of Hati, New Milan and Kore now fell outside the Republic’s receded blue border and resided within Hollaran Commonwealth space.

  “As you all know, respected council members,” Fane explained, “to secure the peace with the Commonwealth, our Republic was forced to remit three of our most precious star systems. Some people in this chamber, including myself, are still haunted by our forced abandonment of the Republic citizens living in these colonies. These citizens, whose only desire is to live free inside our Republic, were never given a voice when the insidious grasp of the Commonwealth stole their freedom. Project Pied Piper is an initiative that would not only inject the Republic’s message of hope and freedom back into these star systems but would pave the way for the pilgrimage of any person trapped on those forgotten planets to reintegrate back into our Republic. We meant to lead them home.”

  Fane shot a dark look at Sandoval. “You, Mr. Councilman, may have easily forgotten the true victims of the war but my ministry never stopped supporting each and every Republic citizen, even those you left behind.”

  She hung her head and spoke softly. “Unfortunately, Councilman Sandoval has placed political expediency ahead of the Republic. By exposing this project and its revenue stream to the galaxy at large with his accusations, Commonwealth counteragents and provocateurs will undoubtedly piece together our efforts to save our citizens and act swiftly to negate years of work by thousands of ministry employees.” A pained expression washed over her face as she closed her eyes. “I regretfully withdraw the addendum to the funding of Bill Ninety-six Dash One, Zero, Four under Project Pied Piper and may God have mercy on our souls.” A long, mournful sigh passed through her.

  Stunned silence pervaded the chamber. Fane waited, then inhaled and stared directly at Sandoval. “You’ve had your moment in front of the Republic, Mr. Councilman. You’ve denigrated the Ministry of Intelligence in an attempt to elevate your own standing and because I refused to set the record straight in an open meeting, most citizens of the Republic will never know the truth. I hope your hypocrisy is worth whatever game you’re playing and above all, I hope your fellow council members understand just how many ordinary Republic citizens you’ve stepped on to lift yourself up.” She undocked her datapad without difficulty and strode away from the podium.

  Quiet but frenzied discussion broke out across the chamber’s floor. Brewer watched an animated exchange between Councilman Sandoval and Assistant Secretary Lawson as a smug smile insinuated its way onto his face. The culmination of years of work had unveiled itself at the podium in a naked boldness that only one, brave soul would have dared to embrace. The fruits of her brazenness would be reaped shortly.

  Matthews’ gavel echoed through the chamber but did little to bring order to the room. “Next on the agenda is the vote to continue the Discretionary Funding Resolution Ninety-six Dash Thirteen for the Northern Exploration and Economic Development Act, or NEED. The floor is open for five minutes for debate.”

  The chamber was far beyond the monotonous administrative duties in the wake of a senior councilman’s political self-destruction. Deals were being made and unmade as politicians from across the Republic rapidly divested themselves of any attachment to the disgraced patriarch of New London.

  The required minute passed without notice by anyone on the floor. Council members were hurriedly discussing strategies and machinations of the new order while subjacent representatives watched in morbid fascination the onstage death of a powerful politician.

  “Nonparticipation will close the floor to debate unless objected to.” After the briefest of pauses, Matthews rapped the well-worn gavel again. “Voting is now open. This is a senior member only vote.”

  Fane appeared before Brewer. Behind her, the wall screen displayed the votes for NEED.

  “Flawlessly executed, Adira.” His eyes shot up to the wall screen. “Titan and Bree vote in favor,” Brewer announced. “New London against.” He smirked. “The vote was cast by Sandoval’s junior assistant.” Brewer smiled widely while rising.

  “The victim’s own dagger is closest to his heart,” Fane said coldly.

  “Ariel votes in favor.”

  “That’s all we need,” Fane stated as she propelled into fluid motion toward the chamber’s exit. It was the closest Brewer had heard her joke in decades. “It was always about our needs, Sebastian. As soon as the vote is complete, dispatch both the NEED funding and the freed Pied Piper monies to the construction yards. I want those keels laid by the end of the month.”

  “Three years to build them, Madam Minister,” he reminded her.

  “There is still much to be done on the Parasite Initiative between now and then.”

  Chapter 40

  The Seshafian marine uniform bearing its fresh gunnery sergeant rank now felt foreign to her. And why shouldn’t it? Aoife Covington asked herself. I haven’t
worn a uniform since the day I interviewed with my ATAC team. She reminisced over the last three years with a bittersweet smile.

  “I hate losing team members, Aoife, but if they have to go, this is the best way,” Danzy admitted. “We’re, we’re going to miss you.” His words tripped slightly. “I’m going to miss you.” He extended a hand in fellowship.

  Covington closed the meter between them with a single step and wrapped her arms tightly around her mentor. “Thank you, Kyle… for everything. You’ve changed my life in ways you could never imagine.” She sighed and then released him. “These last few years will be the proudest of my life.”

  “You have over half your career left in the marines,” Danzy noted. “I have no doubt that you’ll accomplish things that make your time with us pale in comparison.”

  “And you can always come back to us,” Wills said sincerely.

  “It’s as simple as sending me a comm request,” Danzy added.

  Covington smiled warmly but shook her head. “I promised my mum and brother that I’d only serve one ATAC tour. It’s far too dangerous work for their liking. Clayton is already pestering me about separating from the marine corps to take a position inside AmyraCorp.”

  “You?” snorted a tall, lean man in a suit. “Don’t tell me that my combat instructor is a bureaucrat at heart.”

  She flashed the man a dangerous smile. “We can always have a final sparring session, David,” she teased.

  The man threw up hands in submission. “No, no. I never recovered after my interview with you over a year ago.” He quickly thrust out his right hand and shook Covington’s solemnly. “I’ll never forget you, Aoife. Thank you for everything you’ve taught me.”

  Wills clasped a hand around Covington’s shoulder. “Behave, Lady Covington, and remember that you’ll get further with a strong word than a strong fist.”

  Covington winked at the handsome man. The fresh scar along his jaw only increased his appeal in her opinion. She looked around again and sighed. “No Vish?”