by Wilson Harp
“Sergeant Fuller and I logged into the ship’s weapon system. We identified the incoming vessels, acquired targeting on them, and used our weapons to destroy them,” Alex said.
“The battle? Yes, I saw what happened, but that wasn’t the event we need to discuss.”
Alex shook his head as if to clear it.
“What event do we need to discuss, Jii?”
“The event in the corridor. You felt it, didn’t you?”
“No. What event? I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”
“I motioned you to hurry and you resisted. But then you hurried. Why?”
“Because I was anxious to see what you wanted to say.”
“Then why resist?”
“Because I’m stubborn and didn’t want to satisfy you by going faster.”
“That makes no sense, Ramirez. You didn’t speed up much. It didn’t get you here any faster, over all. And when you came in, I pointed at the chair I wished you to sit in and there was no resistance in you at that suggestion.”
“So? It was the seat I would have picked for myself.”
“Yes, but I also didn’t compel you to pick it like I compelled you to hurry.”
“You compelled me?” Alex asked.
“The mosar in my body pulled at the mosar in your body and communicated it should speed you up. It is a form of compulsion.”
“So you’re saying mosar can control me?”
“Not openly, but it can make you desire to do things which will advance its plans.”
Alex stared at Jii for a few seconds as he considered what he thought was impossible.
“How do you control mosar? Can I control it?”
“The mosar in your body is immature. It can’t communicate with you nor understand anything you might try to communicate to it.”
“So you can communicate with the mosar in your body?”
“Yes.”
“What does it tell you?”
“For the most part to give up and let it take control. That my life will be blissful and carefree.”
“It lies to you?”
“I don’t think so. Nothing so nuanced as deception. I think it’s telling me the truth. It would be easier. My life would likely be blissful. But it wouldn’t be my life anymore.”
“The loss of freedom for happiness is a piss poor trade,” Alex quoted.
“A wise, if crude, saying. I am unfamiliar with its source.”
“My father said it in an address to the graduates of Annapolis just months before the outbreak of war,” Alex said. “It was a line which resonated with me. The world was going through some upheaval. Uncertainty had shaken the financial markets and people were just asking to be taken care of. I was young, and was of the opinion that as long as I could have a good time, the freedoms I saw eroding for the sake of security would be a fair trade. At the time I thought I wanted to trade freedom for security, but as I reflected on what he said, I realized I thought if I was happy, then I would be secure.”
Jii nodded as he listened to Ramirez. “Most would say if they were secure, they would be happy. I find it interesting you would reverse the two.”
Alex shrugged. “Happiness is a choice and security’s an illusion. Some people blame their security on their lack of happiness. Others blame their lack of security on their lack of happiness. But I’ve known unhappy and happy people in the most extreme of circumstances.”
“Some would say freedom is an illusion as well.”
“If you believed in a deterministic universe, then you could find arguments for that opinion,” Alex said.
“If you don’t think the universe is deterministic, then how do you think it operates?”
“Chaos tempered with order. Our choices provide the course for each of our lives.”
“Individual choices?” Jii asked.
“Yes. Each of us turns our own rudders and directs our own paths, but collectively our decisions plot the course through the chaos.”
“So we get what we deserve?”
“Not every individual, but as a whole. I think that’s a fair assessment,” Alex said.
Jii leaned back in his chair and smiled.
“You’re more astute than I thought, Ramirez. Williams told me you’d be a deft pupil. I didn’t really believe him, but I needed to help you understand what we’ll be encountering when we reach our destination. I’m impressed with your understanding of how freedom shapes the nature of events. Since you have a firm grasp of the basics of determinism, let me explain what mosar does. It influences those individual choices. Very few of those individual choices on their own are noticeable, but when taken together…”
“Patterns emerge,” Alex finished.
“Precisely. Not only do patterns emerge, but with enough patterns to study, we can develop a predictive model of events.”
Alex shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t like the direction the conversation was taking.
“When did the Otina first start seeing the patterns?” Alex asked.
“A young gardener started asking questions about our space explorations.”
“What about them?”
“We had already developed some inter-system exploration. In fact, we had settled two other planets and two moons in our system. But with the discovery of physical concepts which allow us to travel faster than light, we started desiring to explore the systems around us. A’nacal wanted to know why—”
“A’nacal?” asked Alex.
“Yes. You know the name, I’m sure.”
“The only A’nacal I know is the head of the Galactic Council.”
“The same that I refer to,” said Jii. “May I continue?”
Alex nodded.
“A’nacal wanted to know why, after millennia of being satisfied with our own system, would we want to push out further into space?”
Alex shrugged. “We climb mountains, because they’re there. No other reason needed. Be the first to do something. Be the first to go somewhere.”
“A peculiar human trait. It’s not found in other races. Not until the introduction of mosar at least. But we didn’t listen to A’nacal. We kept exploring, we kept advancing. By the time we recognized the traits developing in other races we had made contact with, it was too late.”
“Jii, can I ask you about something you said earlier?”
“Of course.”
“You mentioned there was a discovery of faster than light travel. If you had no intention to settle other stars, why was that technology being researched?”
Jii shook his head. “It wasn’t. It was discovered in a short time period by a few of our top researchers. Within months, they had figured out not only the math, but somehow the engineering which would make it possible.”
“Mosar directed them.”
“Yes, I believe so. It was the discovery of the technology that started our people thinking beyond our system. It was the opening of possibilities which gave the thought any real value.”
Alex nodded. “Mosar created the desire by allowing the possibility.”
“And that is why it is important you understand what can happen.”
“A stray thought, a wild idea, an intuitive impulse; those can be mosar manipulating us.”
Jii nodded. “And you above all are in danger, Ramirez. You must learn to not trust your instincts. Not on this mission. You have been compromised.”
Chapter 7
Chancellor Wu led the procession down the wide corridor of the United Nations top floor. He was followed by a rigid phalanx of security and then an amorphous crowd of dignitaries. At his side walked Kyle Martin, Earth’s Ambassador to the Galactic Council and the last man Wu wanted at the meeting.
The room was already crowded when the large entourage entered. Those nations wanting to secure a last minute place scrambled to find someone on the Chancellor’s staff who could arrange a seat. Their efforts were in vain as space had been assigned weeks before Chancellor Wu had publically announced the vote.
<
br /> The commander of Earth’s forces had made several public and serious admonitions of the current Chancellor’s positions, and he had called a hearing of the Security Council to discuss what options were available. Options that included the removal of General Kitch from her position.
Wu’s face tightened as the British ambassador called out to Kyle.
“Ambassador Martin, so glad you could be here.”
“Thank you Ambassador Hutchins, I felt it was important. Good to see you.”
Kyle found his seat and lifted his robes as he sat. Whenever he was acting in official capacity as a member of the Galactic Council, he was required to wear the ceremonial robes. Normally he despised the things, but he did understand the importance of a uniform. He had worn one for twenty-six years as a Marine officer and it created a particular reaction when he entered a room.
The robes did the same thing. In a room full of tailored suits and expensive clothes, his plain brown and purple robes stood out. They told those in attendance he was not one of them. He was something different.
When the position of Earth’s Ambassador was created and ratified by the United Nations of Earth, part of the role was as advisor to the Earth Chancellor, the General Secretary, and the United Nations Security Council. It was a minor duty, mostly ceremonial, which Kyle had disregarded as having any significance. But today it reminded the Security Council they were not alone. It reminded them the Galactic Council had an interest in Earth.
Kitch entered the room with her team of aides. She took a seat at the table before the Security Council. When she was seated, Chancellor Wu motioned for the room to be secured. Those nations which did not have a seat in the chamber were escorted out.
Chancellor Wu rose and walked to the podium.
“I have called this meeting today to discuss a situation which must be addressed,” he started. “The integrity and prestige of this office has been ridiculed and demeaned in several public statements by the appointed head of Earth forces. I have laid out my reasons for the appointment of a new commander, and have given you several options on how we might proceed. In a spirit of fairness, I have offered General Kitch the option of responding to my concerns, but she has defiantly insisted that she address the Security Council in an open session. I submit as evidence of her unworthiness of holding this position, this very action. Which can cause nothing but embarrassment for this assemblage.
“I ask the Council to take this breach of respect seriously as they consider General Kitch’s future. You have heard my concerns and my reasoning why she must be removed. I now will let her give her defense.”
He motioned for Kitch to make her statement. Kyle knew from talking with her staff she had been granted a two minute statement. He wanted to counsel her, but knew the Chancellor had people listening to his communications. He was positive they were listening to her communications as well.
“Thank you Mister Chancellor, Council members, and others in attendance,” she began.
Kyle suppressed a smile as he noted she had excluded him from her greetings. He had been her commander for ten years and she was one of the handpicked elite who had been a part of the first contact mission with the Hedali. Her importance in the war with the Iltia’cor could not be overstated, not even by men like Chancellor Wu. But now the political winds had shifted and all of her legendary accomplishments and excellence in her duties were being overlooked in favor of the new trend of anxiety.
“Today I stand before you as the Supreme Commander of Earth Forces, a position I was appointed to by this very body. At the close of the Iltia war, with the untimely passing of Admiral Rider, it was determined that the Supreme Commander should have the best first-hand knowledge of the alien races we would soon need to deal with. At the time, those commanders with the most experience were all from the United States. This was the pivotal criterion for this position, and I have served this position well. If you no longer see this position as one which requires competency, diplomacy, strength, and resolve, then there are plenty of other officers who will gladly take my place. Whether they will thank this Council or not depends on how others in the Galaxy react to an Earth military leader who is more politically minded than honest. No matter who you choose to hang this title on, they will be expected to abide by the treaties that you have signed.”
Wu slammed the gavel down, but Kitch had already stepped away from the podium. Kyle watched the members of the Security Council. Most of their eyes darted to the clock above the podium. It still counted down the seconds which had been allotted to Kitch.
Kyle took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. She had timed her speech to end fifteen seconds early. She knew Wu would try to shut her down before her time had expired, and Kyle suspected he would come across like a petty tyrant to any who would watch the broadcast later. That is, if Wu allowed the session to be broadcast at all. All sessions of the Security Council were supposed to be broadcast under the U.N. Charter, but a lot of the rules tended to be ignored by the current Chancellor.
Chancellor Wu glared at Kitch as she sat down. Her calm demeanor and small smile told Kyle she had done exactly what she had planned.
“Once again the commander has been disrespectful to this council. We do not need to be told what our duty is, nor do we need to have a commander who deigns to correct us in public. I call for an immediate council vote on this matter.”
Several of the Council members shifted as the Chancellor spoke. Kyle knew the outcome of this vote would be close. There were member nations who would vote against Kitch because of the country she came from. There were others who would vote for her for the same reason.
“I move we vote on whether General Diane Kitch is to be removed from office,” the ambassador from China said.
“I second the motion,” replied the Turkish ambassador just a moment later.
Those were two of the votes against Kitch. The others would be France, Argentina, Brazil, and Spain. Kyle was sure Kitch could count on the United States, England, Japan, and Germany. But that left four other nations who currently sat on the council.
“The motion has been moved and seconded,” Wu said. “Let the vote take place.”
Dmitri Valaskov cut his eyes to Kyle. He knew Kyle should have been allowed the chance to address the Council before the voting started.
Kyle watched the votes come in. As expected, there were four red lights against the measure and six green lights in favor of removing Kitch from command. A single vote from the undecided members would remove Kitch from power as the Chancellor would break ties.
The Botswana ambassador held his hand up to his ear as he received last minute instructions from his nation. He nodded and pressed the button. It was red. Valaskov sat back and watched the board.
Kyle felt some relief that Russia might abstain.
The Indian ambassador looked like he was praying. Maybe just in deep thought. He pressed a button and another red light came on. Kitch was a hero to the United States in the war against India, but her leadership and desire to include India in the post-war efforts had healed many of those wounds.
The Dutch ambassador smiled at Chancellor Wu. He mouthed something to the Chancellor as he pressed the button. It was another red light. Kitch had seven of the fourteen votes. Russia would decide her fate.
Valaskov nodded. He reached forward and pressed his button. Kyle could see there was no hesitation. Russia had always intended to vote this way. Valaslov had also been given instructions to vote last.
“The vote is in,” said Wu. “The council has unwisely decided not to remove General Kitch from her position.”
The Earth Chancellor pounded the gavel of his office and then tossed it to the floor. He turned and walked from the room without another word.
Kyle looked around the room as the representatives from each nation scrambled to find, or avoid, members of the press.
Ambassador Valaskov approached Kyle.
“Ambassador Martin,” he said as he reached the dais.
“Quite a situation we find ourselves in, isn’t it? The United States supported the nomination of Chancellor Wu over the objections of Russia, and now it is Russia which keeps the American general in charge of Earth forces.”
“It is ironic, I suppose, Dmitri. But remember, I don’t represent any particular country. I represent Earth as a whole to the Galactic Council.”
Valaskov nodded. “Yes, and you give us counsel and guidance, as if you receive information and influence of others. I wonder whether you hear the rumors. Sometimes I don’t know if they are true, and if they are, what it would mean to us.”
“What rumors do you hear? There are many which blow through these halls. Most are like gusts of wind, though. No one knows where they begin and very few do more than stir some papers.”
“I think you see the diplomatic world, clearly, Ambassador. But the rumor most seem to hold as truth is that you seek the counsel of aliens at times. Is that true?”
Kyle hesitated. “I won’t lie to you, Ambassador. The galaxy is complicated. The nuances of politics are hard to see and even harder to predict. There are times I seek the insight of some members of Council.”
“And you seek only what is best for Earth?”
“Of course.”
Valaskov smiled and his eyes tightened in a way that reminded Kyle of a wild predator who had just caught the scent of wounded prey.
“That is good to know, Ambassador Martin. Maybe next time America will support the Russian candidate.”
“Maybe they will, Ambassador. Maybe they will.”
Valaskov turned and left Kyle alone on the dais. Kyle had turned down any effort by the press to interview him or to go on record to answer even the simplest of questions. As a result, there were no reporters who wished to be rebuffed today. The chamber was empty by the time Valaskov left except for a man sitting at the table where Kitch had been.
“Bill, I assume you are waiting around for me?” Kyle asked.
“Yes, Ambassador Martin. Would you like to join General Kitch for dinner?”