Lazarus Rising

by David Sherman

  "Oh, yes, something else, Herten." De Tomas handed Gorman a large sheet of parchment. "Read it," he demanded.

  Gorman read, and as he did his eyes grew wide. "You can't be serious, my leader!" he almost shouted.

  "I am, Herten. That proclamation will be published at noon today." He glanced at his watch. "In fifteen minutes." He chuckled.

  The proclamation changed the name of their world from Kingdom of Yahweh and His Saints and Their Apostles to "New Kingdom."

  "It is simple and direct and it is not theocratic, Herten. ‘Kingdom of Yahweh and His Saints and Their Apostles’ indeed." De Tomas snorted. "What idiot thought that up? I've never heard such a mouthful of nonsense, and we are not going to call ourselves by that ridiculous name anymore!"

  "This change will require many adjustments," Gorman offered tentatively.

  "Let them be made, Herten. People will not only get used to the new name, but in time they'll come to like it, I assure you. Now," he activated his intercom, "send in Archbishop General Lambsblood." He turned to Herten. "We are going to discuss army reorganization."

  "I did not call you here to ask for your opinion, General," de Tomas started out as soon as Lambsblood was seated. "We are going to effect some army reforms immediately, and you will carry them out to the letter. I want that understood at the outset."

  "Very well, my leader," Lambsblood replied.

  "First you will reorganize the rank structure in your army, General. We are no longer a theocracy. I have long admired the Confederation Armed Forces. You will now rename the ranks in your army after theirs." Another chart appeared on the wall showing the conversion. "You are now just a general, ‘Colonel Deacon’ is now simply ‘Colonel,’ right down to the enlisted ranks: ‘Swords’ are ‘Sergeants,’ and so on down to the lowest enlisted level, which will now be simply ‘Private.’ All these religious titles will be eliminated. You will also adopt the same badges of rank the Confederation Army uses. Next time we meet, you will wear the four silver stars of a full general. Is all that clear?"

  "Yes, my leader. But I must point out that all this will take some getting used to, and there will be grumbling in the ranks."

  "Then get used to it, General. And let the ranks grumble. Soldiers aren't happy if they don't have something to grumble about. The conversion will begin immediately. It will take time. You must have the new badges of rank made up in sufficient quantity. Issue them when they are ready, but pursue this as your number one mission. I am going to remove every vestige of religiosity from your army. An army must be a secular institution, General. And in that regard, sir, I have eliminated the role of ‘religious officer.’" Lambsblood opened his mouth to protest. "No, General. No religious meddlers spying on our soldiers from now on. That was another reason your army was so inefficient—you had these fanatics peering over everyone's shoulder all the time." De Tomas smiled benignly. What he didn't tell the general was that he'd have his own spies among his troops.

  Lambsblood gestured helplessly. "But my leader, all these reforms so quickly! The entire resources of my army are devoted to searching for any demons left behind—"

  "‘Demons’? ‘Demons’? Stop it, General Lambsblood! There are not now nor have there ever been demons on Kingdom! We were invaded by alien sentiences, General. The Confederation Marines came to our aid and chased them off, back to wherever they came from! They are alien creatures, flesh and blood, mortal, just like us. I want no more of this superstitious babble about ‘demons,’ is that clear, General?"

  "Yes, my leader," Lambsblood agreed quickly, and shifted nervously in his seat. "But I must repeat, all my resources are devoted now to searching for any remnants of this, uh, alien force."

  "Good. But you can do more than one thing at once, General," de Tomas continued. "Next: How are you coming on getting your men to take the new loyalty oath?" The oath replaced the grade reorganization chart. It read:

  I swear to you, Dominic de Tomas, as leader of my government and my people, loyalty and bravery. I vow to you and to the authorities appointed by you obedience unto death, so help me God.

  Lambsblood shifted uneasily in his chair. "Well, my leader—"

  "How many men have sworn the oath, General?" de Tomas asked, his voice deceptively calm.

  "Well, my leader, as I pointed out, uh, we have given top priority to searching for any of the de—ah, aliens that might have been left behind."

  "How many of your troops have sworn the oath, General?" de Tomas asked again.

  "I have, my leader!" Lambsblood said proudly.

  "Every rank will swear that oath, General. It will be duly witnessed and a statement will be placed in every man's file that he has taken it. All new recruits will swear that oath. Is that clear?"

  Lambsblood sputtered, "Clear, my leader, but—but—"

  "No buts," de Tomas interjected harshly. "See that it is done at once. Dispatch your staff judge advocates to the units in the field today and have them execute the oaths. Your field commanders can cease operations for the few minutes it'll take to get the men to take the oath. Emphasize to them, General, that, once duly sworn, any disobedience will be viewed as treason, and treason is punishable by death. If there is any hesitation, any resistance, General, those men will be arrested and turned over immediately to the Special Group. Units of the SG will accompany your SJA for that purpose. If it's any consolation, General, every member of my other government departments has sworn the same oath. There has been some reluctance. Those people were ‘transferred’ immediately—downstairs. Do you understand?"

  "My leader," Lambsblood croaked, "the men are very religious. Always before, my leader," he whispered, "the men swore their oath to God."

  De Tomas nodded. "Are you questioning me, General?" Lambsblood hastened to say again that he had taken the loyalty oath—seriously. "So now they swear to me before God. As the leader of this new government on Kingdom, I am fulfilling God's will, General."

  Lambsblood, his face pale, nodded his assent.

  "Finally, how many men do you currently have under arms, General?"

  Lambsblood hesitated a moment. "As of this morning I believe something just in excess of ninety thousand, my leader."

  "Look at this next chart. You will reorganize your army into two groups, A and B, each consisting of 45,000 men and commanded by lieutenant generals. Each army group will be composed of three divisions of approximately fifteen thousand men, each commanded by a major general. Each division will have three brigades of approximately five thousand men commanded by a brigadier general or a full colonel; three regiments to each brigade commanded by either a full colonel or lieutenant colonel. As you can see, the regiments are broken down into companies consisting of platoons and squads. Your individual units will be numbered; no more religious names such as ‘Burning Bush Regiment’ and so on. Army Group A will have three divisions, One, Two, Three; Army Group B will have three divisions, Four, Five, and Six; and so on right down to platoon level. It's all there in the charts, study them.

  "You will implement these reforms immediately, General Lambsblood. You will report weekly on your progress either to me personally, if I am available, or to Deputy Leader Gorman." He nodded at Gorman, who grinned wolfishly at Lambsblood. Lambsblood stared back, astonished. Then he nodded his understanding and compliance.

  "As I pointed out earlier, no reason to interrupt your ongoing military operations, General," de Tomas continued. "You can work the reforms simultaneously. Convert the units in the field last. Start at the top, with yourself, and work your way down to the maneuver elements. You can call selected units out of the field for reorganization. That way you can keep a force constantly operating until your searches are complete. I—We—have complete confidence in you, General. But I must emphasize, General, swearing the oath comes first. Start that process today, after you return to your headquarters.

  "Well," de Tomas sighed, "that's it. Would you join us for lunch, General?"

  Lambsblood shifted again in his cha
ir. "No, my leader, but thank you anyway. I should be getting back to my headquarters, to get my staff working on these reforms. Thank you for putting your confidence in me, my leader." He stood, saluted smartly, and walked swiftly out of the room. Inwardly he seethed. He had cast his lot with de Tomas thinking he'd be allowed to remain independent or coequal, but now he saw his role as that of a mere order-taking functionary.

  "He's going to have to go," de Tomas said after Lambsblood had left them.

  "Give me the word," Gorman said.

  "Not yet, Herten, not quite yet. Next a spot of lunch, and then we meet with our newly sworn Minister of Propaganda and Culture, the esteemed but practically minded Reverend Dr. Joseph Oldhouse."

  Chapter 6

  "Is this the residence of Miss—" the Stormleader, the equivalent of a lieutenant in the army, consulted a slip of paper in his hand, "Miss Uma Devi, ma'am?" Behind him in the gathering darkness loomed the figures of two shooters, armed and in full uniform of the Special Group. In the dimly lighted street the wizened old woman who'd opened the door saw a landcar with at least one other man in it. Her mouth went dry as her heart pounded and her lower lip quivered with fear. She struggled to speak. A visit by men of the Special Group meant only one thing for her granddaughter—death.

  The Stormleader bowed politely from the waist. "Ma'am, Miss Devi's presence has been requested at Wayvelsberg Castle. We shall escort Miss Devi there and return her safely to you when the interview is done."

  "Who is it, Grandmother?" a female voice said from inside the house. The old woman attempted to block the door by shifting her body in front of the very pretty young woman who had appeared behind her shoulder.

  "Miss Devi?" the Stormleader asked. "I am honored to inform you that your presence at Wayvelsberg Castle has been requested. My men and I will escort you there and back again." He bowed politely and gestured with one arm that she should step outside and join him.

  The old woman shook her head and moaned softly. The town was abuzz with the news that only that morning the Special Group had hung the dean of the College of the Immaculate Conception and left his body swinging out on the quad. But the young woman looked back at the Stormleader with interest plainly written in her large black eyes.

  "Grandmother, the Collegium has been abolished, haven't you heard?" she consoled the old woman. "How long will we be?" she asked the Stormleader.

  "I really couldn't say, miss."

  "Why am I being summoned?"

  "All I know, miss, is that our leader has requested you for an interview. It is a very great honor, miss."

  She looked at the Stormleader speculatively, not contemplating flight, but thinking of advantage. Then she nodded. "May I change into something more formal?"

  The Stormleader nodded and stepped back from the door, which the old woman closed with a bang. One of his men stepped forward, but he restrained him with a hand. "Go around back, Moses. Just a precaution. She won't run, I'm sure of it. I'll stay here with Hung. No matter what happens, no force, do you understand?" The shooter named Moses nodded and walked swiftly around the house into the garden.

  Shortly, the door opened and Miss Uma Devi stepped out. She was dressed in a green silk sari that emphasized her full breasts and narrow waist. A green silk shawl completed the ensemble.

  The Stormleader smiled and offered her his arm, which she took gracefully. "Moses, join us at the car," he muttered into his throat mike.

  "That was hardly necessary," Miss Devi smiled when she realized the Stormleader had posted the second man out back.

  "My apologies, miss, but a lady as—as beautiful as you, we were afraid somebody might, ah, try to kidnap you?" The Stormleader laughed. "If we failed to bring you to our leader as ordered, we'd all be executed."

  "I wouldn't want that to happen," she said dryly, but she smiled at the officer's attempted gallantry.

  The drive to Wayvelsberg Castle took about twenty minutes. It was full dark by the time the vehicle turned off the main road and down a gravel driveway into a ravine behind the fortress. Trees and shrubs grew thickly on both sides of the road. For the first time Uma had doubts about why she was being summoned and what would happen to her. "Wh-Why are we going in this way?" she asked nervously.

  "Do not be afraid, Miss Devi. Please. This visit is to be accomplished discreetly, to avoid any possible embarrassment to yourself or our leader." The car pulled up to an unloading dock and they got out. "Wait for us at the motor pool," the Stormleader ordered the driver. Sensors had activated bright lights upon their arrival. The driver turned the car around and drove back up the gravel road, a thin cloud of dust hanging suspended in the air behind it. Uma felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach as the car disappeared down the tree-lined driveway.

  "Please, Miss Devi, relax," the Stormleader pleaded as he guided her up a flight of concrete steps to a massive iron door. He punched a code into a keyboard, and a small portal opened at the level of his chest. A bright light scanned his face as he inserted his hand, palm downward into the portal.

  "Scans complete, Stormleader Mugabe," a computer-generated voice announced, and the door swung open on its massive hydraulics. It closed solidly behind them. Inside, they stood in a tiny vestibule leading to a narrow flight of stairs that disappeared into the darkness above them. "We are coming up," Mugabe whispered into his throat mike.

  "This flight of stairs communicates directly to our leader's private study, Miss Devi. It's precisely 214 steps to the top. I am sorry, we cannot use the elevators, but this entrance is absolutely private and reserved for the exclusive use of our leader. We can pause frequently to let you catch your breath. Believe me, miss, you will find the climb was well worth the effort once you've met the leader."

  They started up the stairway.

  "You are looking more handsome and younger every time I see you, my leader," Miss Gelli Alois said unctuously as she busied herself brushing Dominic de Tomas's face with makeup powder. De Tomas sat in a barber's chair in the Wayvelsberg studio Gorman had arranged for Miss Alois and her assistants, so they could be ready at a moment's notice to prepare de Tomas for his public appearances. He would soon appear before the media to announce his cabinet and explain the decrees he'd recently issued.

  De Tomas glanced at Herten Gorman. He was fully aware of the torrid relationship that had developed between his Deputy Leader and Gelli Alois. He also sensed that Gorman was worried he might decide to appropriate Alois's considerable charms exclusively for himself. He found that amusing. He turned to Miss Rauber, Gelli's assistant, who stood behind him holding a cosmetic tray. "Have you a boyfriend, Miss Rauber?" he asked, winking at Gorman.

  "Yes, my leader!" the young woman replied with a curtsy.

  "Well, tell us: Is he as handsome as Herten over there?"

  "Oh, no, my leader!"

  "I am sorry for you, Miss Rauber." De Tomas glanced up at Gelli, and was amused to see her face color slightly with embarrassment. "If that man of yours ever abandons you, Miss Rauber, you come and see me. I'm old and ugly and not half as handsome as Herten, but I feed my women well." He laughed. Miss Rauber, although a very pretty young woman, was a bit on the slim side. Her face turned a deep red, and that caused de Tomas to laugh outright. In fact, the young woman enjoyed de Tomas's banter and looked forward to the makeup sessions. And if he ever asked her into his bedroom—but, alas, he never had.

  Gelli, finished, held out a mirror to de Tomas. "Hmm," de Tomas said. "Gelli, you could make a dead man look alive again! I bet when the media see me in a few minutes they'll say, ‘You're looking wonderful, our leader! Who's your undertaker?’" Laughing, he threw off the smock, stood up and straightened his uniform. Miss Rauber stepped up and brushed him off. "Away, Herten, away! The people await us in the Great Hall! Ladies." He turned to Gelli and Rauber and bowed deeply. "Thank you once again for resurrecting me!"

  Ambassador Jayben Spears and Prentiss Carlisle, his chief of station, sat in the ambassador's suite in Interstellar City a
nd watched Dominic de Tomas's performance on the trid. "Some of this stuff actually makes sense," Prentiss said, his voice touched with awe. "Maybe that army reorganization will make them into real soldiers."

  "Don't bet on it, Prentiss. The real military power in this place is the Special Group."

  "I can actually follow their rank structure, now that he's converted to the Confederation's system. Acolytes, swords, imams... their grade structure was so damned ecumenical I could never make any sense out of it, much less remember which was a colonel and which a private."

  Spears snorted. "Yes, some of his reforms are long overdue, such as organizing the army under the general staff concept, a system every military has adopted, because it works so damned well, since the Germans invented it back during the nineteenth century." Spears shook his head. "And as an old soldier myself, I appreciate the awards and decorations program he's established, medals for both heroism and meritorious service, and enlisted people can earn them too, not just officers. And I have to admit, Prentiss, were I a Muslim in the Army of God, I don't think being called an acolyte would sit very well with me." He snorted again. Then almost to himself, "In their insane effort to be ecumenical, the previous regime only pissed everyone off; morale in the old army was at a terrible low.

  "Prentiss, if only these reforms had been initiated by somebody else. De Tomas is a ruthless murderer, we all know that." He paused. "But nobody ever said he's stupid." Spears had been told of the reforms by his various contacts well in advance of that evening's announcement. What interested him was the men de Tomas had picked for his cabinet posts, whom he'd just introduced, and the justification for the reforms, which he was now putting forth very eloquently and, Spears had to admit, persuasively.

  "I'll bet that little bastard there wrote the script for this," Spears muttered, pointing to the screen, "the stocky red-haired guy sitting just beside Gorman." He was referring to the Reverend Dr. Joseph Oldhouse, newly appointed Minister of Public Enlightenment and Culture. Spears snorted. "‘Public Enlightenment and Culture’ my ass! The devious little swine is nothing more than a rotten propagandist, opportunistic little..." He let the sentence trail off.