by Mark Wandrey
“Just doing my job, ma’am,” he said and saluted.
Coming to the Rusk capital wasn’t her idea in making this announcement, it was just lousy luck. The planetary council rotated its meeting location every month, starting and ending in Plateau, the official home of government. This was the Rusk’s month.
The changes had been bi-yearly before Concordian manufactured transport displaced the now defunct dirigible lines. Minu had seen a TV program only a day ago showing one of the last of the big liners being used for moving lumber in the Summit Tribe’s mountains. She’d been struck momentarily by feelings of remorse. The dirigible was once the same passenger model that had taken her to the Trials. It looked like a wreck now and would soon be replaced once again with robots.
“Don’t trust the Rusk bastards,” Selain admitted quietly as Minu turned.
She stopped and said just as quietly, “You have a few in your platoon.”
“Aye, ma’am, I do. And they’re all ancestral Rusk. Not a one of them is from here.”
Minu grunted and headed over to where Dram was looking over the landing pad. The Phoenix shuttle they’d taken had more than enough room for the eleven Rangers, two assistants, herself and Dram. She didn’t want to admit it, but she felt better knowing that her bodyguards were there.
Minu had decided against her now-common Ranger tiger stripes and went with her formal Chosen uniform. The black one-piece with golden stripes down the legs and arms still had a lot of gravitas. The single golden star on each cuff spoke volumes.
The uniform was also of the new design created by Lilith’s ship. It could stop anything from a knife to a beamcaster, was heated or cooled, would function as a spacesuit (with a collapsible hood in her belt pouch), and felt like a second skin. She admired the fit in the reflective windows of the Phoenix, glad that all those crunches had shrunken her tummy back to nearly normal. And her breasts were closer to what she’d grew up with. They were still a cup size bigger, much to Aaron’s regular delight. Men.
The Rangers were all in their standard tiger-striped camo with the exception of Sergeant Selain who, wore their dress uniform. It was similar to the Chosen, but a two piece affair in blue instead of black, with boots, a belt designed to accommodate a low holster, and a light duty jacket that displayed rank tabs on epaulettes.
“You look quite handsome, Sarge,” she said when he’d shown up to board. She’d reached out and polished the brand new sergeant-major logo on his dress uniform. Gregg had pinned that on him only a day earlier, making him the Command Sergeant-Major of the Rangers. Highest NCO position ever created.
“Fuck you, ma’am,” he’d growled, making her smile huge. She’d grown to love the overprotective teddy bear. He’d let his hair go long, something the Rangers recently had started doing. His was tied back in a tight ponytail. Minu didn’t quite understand the whole thing, but if Gregg was okay with it, so was she.
“First Groves,” a man said, running up with two assistants, “we were just informed you were coming.”
“Chancellor Beaumont, isn’t it?” Minu asked, offering her hand.
“That is correct,” he said, taking it in a limp wristed, wet palmed shake. She resisted the urge to wipe her hand on her uniform. “You want to address the Council? I must protest, this is most unusual!”
She didn’t like the man, and that was unusual for a Summit man. Their Latin American ancestry usually created strong-willed, somewhat prideful men who did well in the Chosen and were numerous in the Rangers as well. Sergeant Selain was Summit. But their bureaucrats were another matter. Weasels, was the term she found in the dictionary. But Bellatrix didn’t have the little rodents. She’d call him a snake, but didn’t want to insult the T’Chillen.
“Unusual is beside the point,” she told the man, “the First can address the planetary council anytime she wishes. Except to announce my taking the office, I have never availed myself of that right. I do so now.”
She turned towards the ramp down from the landing platform. Dram was beside her, their assistants behind him, and the squad of Rangers fell into formation, two staying behind to ‘keep an eye on the shuttle’.
Air traffic around the twenty-story government building was beginning to become chaotic. Anyone for kilometers would have seen the huge Phoenix shuttle dropping down from orbit, and many came to investigate. The mirror-polished dualloy hull with black stripes down each side and wings proclaimed it as a Chosen ship. And a single golden star was painted behind the cockpit, not large or obtrusive, but an obvious statement of who rode aboard. Already a pair of broomsticks were orbiting close by, both with multiple camera mountings and logos of planetary news agencies.
“First, what about these soldiers?”
“These are my bodyguards. I am allowed bodyguards by protocol.”
“Naturally,” he whined, “but the First always brought one or two Chosen, not an army of regular soldiers!”
Minu could almost sense Selain tensing at the slight. “These are Rangers, Chancellor, and I’m sure you are aware they are Chosen by right. And nothing in the protocol says how many bodyguards the First is allowed,” she said and marched onward. She almost added that she couldn’t give a flying fuck about their protocol one way or another.
The Rangers spread out behind her, taking up the entire hallway. Under Selain’s careful direction, there was no way Beaumont could squeeze by. He huffed and squawked all the way down and into the very crowded lift.
“If I can just get you to wait in the antechamber for a few minutes?” he pleaded as the doors opened on the main chamber entry floor. “The council is in the middle of individual time for members.”
Minu decided to throw him a bone. “As you wish,” she said and glanced in the direction of the indicated antechamber. The sound of amplified voices echoed down from the ramp leading to the council chamber.
“Thank you ever so much,” the Chancellor fairly groveled, “Councilor Kutchokovic will be ever so grateful!”
“Oh really,” she said and turned towards him. His eyes got big. “Is that who’s speaking now?”
“Y-yes…” he stammered.
“I’ve changed my mind,” she said with ice in her voice and turned up the ramp.
“First, please?” he begged as everyone fell in behind her except Dram.
“Maybe you better get on the phone and tell someone she’s coming?”
His eyes got huge and he dashed for a nearby wall phone as Dram hurried to catch his impulsive, if endlessly amusing, boss.
Minu should have recognized the voice as she was walking down the ramp. She’d heard him enough on speeches and interviews with the press maligning her every decision, speaking out against the Chosen’s projects, and even questioning the morality of the profits the Chosen brought home from their efforts. When he had taken over from the retiring Victor Malovich, no one was surprised. Leon Kutchokovic was a long time family ally, and cut in the same mold.
The Council chamber was a horseshoe-shaped amphitheater with the entrance to the floor at the open end. Councilors sat behind a huge semicircular desk, each seat backed by a dozen seating areas for assistants. Above and behind that was a sports-stadium style gallery that could hold thousands. There appeared to be a hundred or so in attendance. The speaker would come around the table and stand in the middle, addressing the assemblage to give his or her speech.
Above the crowd seating and almost invisible from the floor was a number of platforms where the press maintained cameras. Minu was used to working in low light and contrasting lighting conditions from her time in space and she easily spotted them. She also saw one of the camera crews spot her and excitedly begin pointing their equipment at her. For once, she was glad. This was going to play well to an audience.
Leon Kutchokovic stood like an actor on stage. A spotlight, controlled from somewhere, followed his every move. His tall figure was striking in an expensive business suit. His short cropped black hair was immaculately styled, and his long goatee waxed to
a point. Minu snorted. He looked like a villain from a cheap, old Earth drama. He was in the middle of a diatribe.
“…and they never cease in their demands for our hard earned credits! We poor peasants strive day after day to make bread from the lands with our hands, sweating under the harsh Bellatrix sun, only to have that woman come to take away what few meager profits we make. And for what, to build some… shield? As if she could build a shield for a planet!”
A cowed looking Chancellor Beaumont came up behind her and handed her a microphone. “If you could just wait—” She didn’t let him finish.
“No, Mr. Kutchokovic, I can’t build that shield myself,” her voice boomed out into the council chamber, strong and sure. The Rusk councilor spun in stunned surprise, his jaw hanging open. Minu didn’t think he’d have been more surprised if the ghost of Lenin himself had snuck up and smacked him in the back of the head with a dead fish.
“You!” he said.
“Yeah, me,” Minu agreed. “First among the Chosen, Minu Groves, at your service.” She affected a modest bow to him, and gently pivoted while holding the bow towards the other six seated councilors.
An assistant jumped up uncouthly vaulted the table, bringing a tablet to Councilor Kutchokovic. He glanced at it and scowled.
“You will yield the floor to the honorable Minu Groves, First among the Chosen,” the Chancellor said into his own microphone. It sounded more like a request from a servant than an instruction from the Council Chancellor. The councilor of whichever territory hosted the meeting was president of the council, but the Chancellor was the moderator and director of the council. He set the agenda and saw to the rules they lived by. He was appointed to a one year term from the sitting councilors, his seat then occupied by a new councilor either appointed by him, or elected by their people, whichever was their way.
“I yield,” he said, bowing ever so slightly and striding around the table back to his seat.
“Honorable Chancellor,” Minu said, “Council president, and councilors. I bring you greetings from the Chosen.”
The councilors all offered polite applause while the audience added some of theirs. Minu had also noticed that the audience chamber was quickly filling. The newscasters had spread the word quickly. She felt the back of her neck prickle as millions of TV were turned on around the planet. Untold millions more would rewatch this for days, for years. She spoke carefully.
“We regret to interrupt your regularly scheduled program to bring you an unexpected news item. First among the Chosen Minu Groves is addressing the Planetary Council at this very moment. We bring you that live, from New Moscow in Rusk!”
Minu paused for almost an entire minute. While she waited, she saw Leon noticing her guards all standing at attention along the back of the Council chamber. Dram came up a few steps behind her in his customary place. Their assistants waited back by the entrance.
“A little over a year ago, I was appointed First by the Chosen Council. They decided it was time for new leadership and I was honored they selected me. As the first female to hold this position, I’ve faced many challenges. And I believe there are many more to come.
“Councilman Kutchokovic is correct, I cannot design the planetary shield that is being constructed even now. I have a scientific background and some skill of my own, but shielding technology and spacecraft design is not one of them. That is why I rely on experts that are preeminent in that field. Among them is Bjorn Ganose, one of the best scientists in the Chosen, and who immigrated to Plateau from Rusk when he was a child, and has now served as Chosen for over sixty years!”
The applause was considerable this time. “With this project, as every other project, the Chosen strive for the best interests of the people of Bellatrix, and our Concordia masters, the Tog. We’ve done this for more than a hundred years. And we will continue to serve our people, even as other things change.”
There was a low mumble of voices from the gallery. The Chancellor became rigid and glared up into the seats which quickly fell silent. Minu continued.
“The Tog are our saviors. Five hundred years ago they pulled us from our doomed world and set us here, on this beautiful planet where the scant thousands have grown into many millions. We found our feet once more, went into service with our saviors, and have matured to be their allies.
“We’ve faced setbacks along the way. Wars with ourselves, and then with aliens later. We’ve lost lives, and we’ve gained allies.” More mumbles. “But most importantly, we’re ready to stand on our own.
“In one month I will travel to Nexus, capital planet of the Concordia. In the traditions of that ancient body, I will stand before all the many thousands of species of this galaxy, and with the support of the Tog, declare our independence. Mankind is at long last, Awakening, as the Concordia call it.”
She barely managed to be heard for the last sentence because the auditorium had exploded in voices. Some screamed in excitement, others in terror. Some in confusion while others in amazement.
The councilors were also a study in varied reactions. Leon Kutchokovic looked at her in rage, his face screwed up with the passion of his emotions. Jeanette Cutter, the youngest of the councilors having only been elected from Plateau the previous spring, looked surprised and a little hurt. No doubt she thought she should have been consulted on this beforehand. The truth was Minu didn’t know if she could trust her or not.
Giselle Baum, the councilor from New Jerusalem and the only other female, looked a bit surprised, but also curious. She’d been an ally in funding battles and respected Minu greatly. Kamla Ito from Peninsula looked dumbfounded, while Idi Manhane from the Desert Tribe appeared not bothered in the least. He inclined his head towards Minu in respect as if she’d just made a good chess move.
The final two councilors, Enrico Pablente from Summit and Luigi Bono of the Boglands had their heads together and were talking.
Minu waiting patiently for the cacophony to calm. It took almost fifteen minutes. Fights had broken out in the viewing area and Beaumont called out the sergeant at arms to clear the galley. That was fine with Minu, she would have requested private audience soon anyway. Naturally, it was Leon Kutchokovic who first managed to be heard.
“What is the meaning of this, this, this outrage?! Who gives you the authority to turn our back on the Tog?” he demanded, red-faced and looking like one of his wild ancestors who had almost conquered the entire planet.
“You did.” Leon shut his mouth and drew back in surprise. “Well, the Planetary Council did more than a hundred years ago. The Chosen charter is specific in my powers, and drawn up under the supervision of our masters, the Tog. It detailed under what terms I serve, the power that authority grants me, and how we as humanity can gain our freedom.
“There are two ways. One is the Tog simply release us.”
“Is that what is happening?” the Chancellor asked.
“No,” Minu told him, “because I was instructed that they do not need to. The other condition is that we purchase our freedom for a sum to be determined by the Tog.”
“So you have unilaterally spent us into poverty?!” demanded Ito of the Peninsula.
“No, again, I didn’t have to. The Tog informed me a while ago that we owe nothing. Zero, zip, nada. And we never have. They kept this from us for almost a century, in their words, for our own protection. They believed we would be a threat to ourselves if turned loose on the galaxy too soon. So all we need to do now, is ask. And our freedom, our Awakening, will be granted.”
“And then we are on our own,” Kutchokovic snapped, “free to be victimized by any species who dislikes us. And thanks to you, that is a great many.”
“I won’t deny I’ve pissed off a few,” she said and turned to look at Kutchokovic, “I tend to have that effect on some weak willed individuals.” Kutchokovic colored red and spat something in Russian. “As a species under protection of another, we have them to protect us. This is a fact. However, it is us who’ve been doing the protecting for
years now. Rangers stand guard on many joint Tog/Human ventures all over the galaxy. Other minor species come to us, a species ourselves only infants in their eyes, for protection! And in other ways, we’ve exceeded the Tog as well. We will now go from their wards, to their allies, and stand as equals.”
“The Tog are a higher order species,” Giselle Baum pointed out. “We cannot be their equals.”
“We will be in their eyes. Furthermore we will stand by their sides at the Concordia as seconds to the Tog.” There were gasps among those who understood the meaning of that. “The Beezer have voluntarily stepped aside to allow us this honor. As an act of friendship.”
More surprise. The last the council knew, the Beezer were still furious for humanity for nearly destroying their Portal Spire.
“I have here the details of the transition,” she said and held up a tablet. Her assistant was transmitting it to the council at that moment. “In it are how we will handle the transition from the Chosen and Rangers being under Tog control, to our new arraignment with the Bellatrix planetary council.”
The councilors all tried to speak but Minu held up a hand. “Now there are details we need to discuss in private. Please adjourn the public council meeting for a private one.” She turned to the Chancellor and looked at him.
“Oh, if you wish,” he said and he looked to his assistant.
The doors out of the chamber were sealed. Above them, clamshells slowly closed over the press platforms. She had to smirk as she heard some of them cursing her as the doors closed and cut off their view.
Once they were secure, she continued. “As all the councilors are aware, the Chosen have been in possession of a number of starships now for almost a year. Thanks to the salvage operation we now have a dozen front-line warships, and dozens of support craft. We also salvaged eight transports that were traded to the Beezer.”
“Without consulting the Council,” Kutchokovic pointed out.
“I was not required to do such, and felt no need to. As a result of that trade, the Beezer are now formally allied with us, both militarily and as trading partners. That brings the total to four species who are our allies.”