by Jaxon Reed
“I’m the best shot in the O’Donnell clan,” Jason said, proudly holding up his target.
“I got the three of y’all beat,” I said, holding up mine.
“Oh, boys . . .” Dee Dee sang out. She held up her target, where so many holes had been shot through the center circle, it wasn’t there anymore. The middle of the target had one ragged hole, with no stray shots anywhere.
“Don’t worry,” she teased. “I’m sure you’ll all get better with practice.”
-+-
One night Jacob produced a box of Kalinowski’s cigars. I decided not to ask where he got them. His procurement skills were extraordinary. Best I didn’t know.
We sat around on the porch of the triplets’ tree house, having one of our late night bull sessions.
“What I want to know,” Jeremy said, “Is who came up with the naming conventions for planets? I mean, we start okay. Europa, Asiana, Bharata, Africana, Australiana, Americana. All named after continents on Old Earth.”
“Bharata is a subcontinent,” Jacob pointed out.
“Whatever. Then they discover Oceana. Okay, I get it. It’s a planet with one gigantic ocean and a few habitable islands. Then they start naming planets after place names and countries. Brittania, Hispaniola . . . everything goes along fine until Janus 23 or so.”
“You’re forgetting Pacifica,” Jacob said. “The one after Mesopotamia and before Caledonia.”
“Another water planet. They already had Oceana, so they named it after the largest body of water on Old Earth.”
“Specifically, the Pacific,” said Jason with a grin.
Jeremy frowned at the interruption. “Anyway, then you got your ‘new’ planets. New Scotland. New France. New Moravia. I guess they ran out of places to call ‘new’ because then they started naming entire planets after old cities. Brasilia . . . Alexandria . . .”
“How about New Hong Kong? It’s a ‘new’ planet named after a city that’s also an island. Am I right?”
“Shut up, Jason. Then they get here and it’s like, they look around and say, ‘Wow, look at these big trees! This reminds us of Redwood trees back on Old Earth. Let’s just abandon our whole naming convention thing, and call the place Redwood.’
“And on the next planet they’re like, ‘Gee, look at all these citrus trees! Let’s call the place Orange!’ I mean, what happened to centuries of tradition? Now we have to name planets after the trees that grow on them?”
I chuckled at his sarcasm and said, “I bet what happened, they had a name picked out to honor some region or city back on Old Earth, then discovered people exposed to primate bites here were going off world and attacking others for their blood. They decided some generic name that adequately described the planet would do, rather than tainting a good name, with all the bad publicity hematophagia would bring. Same with Orange. What place back on the home planet would want to be associated with a penal colony?”
They nodded as they mulled it over and seemed to agree with my reasoning. At least, no one argued with me.
“Another thing I want to know,” Jeremy said, pausing to puff on his cigar. “Is why we don’t have better technology out here on the frontier planets.”
“It’s gotta be reliable,” Jacob pointed out. “If it breaks, how you gonna fix it? It’d take a couple years or more to send it to Asiana, or wherever, then a couple more to get it back.”
“It doesn’t have to be fragile to be high tech. Look at the Januses.”
“That’s true,” I chimed in. “Supposedly the Januses have maintenance crews, but I don’t think they have to do much.”
“Okay, fine. On Redwood and Orange it’s got to be super reliable. I’ll buy that. But what about New Texas, Athena, and Alexandria? They’re still relatively low tech. From what I understand, you have to travel back at least to Bharata before you start to see really cutting edge stuff.”
Jacob was about to object, and possibly start another long argument, when Dee Dee’s head appeared at the top of the rope ladder.
“Hi guys! I saw your lights on and thought I’d climb up. Hey, can I have one of those?”
“Rough night?” Jacob said.
She nodded. “Connie and I had a bad argument. I had to get out of the house for a while. She’s unbearable when she’s like this.”
Jason said, “If she ever really ticks you off, just sneak into her room one night while she’s sleeping and start licking her neck or something to wake her up. That would freak her out!”
Dee Dee giggled and said, “Daddy would probably kick me out of the house.”
We gave her a cigar, and she sat down with us to puff a while.
“What were y’all talking about?”
“Mozon over here was griping about lack of higher technology on the outer planets.”
“It doesn’t have to be unreliable to be high tech. Don’t know why they can’t send more to the outer string.”
Dee Dee nodded. “This again.”
She said to me in a stage whisper, “They’ve had this discussion before.”
She took a big puff and let out a thoughtful cloud of smoke. “I’ve been thinking about this one, guys. I think it’s a matter of State control.”
We all looked at her.
“State control?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Think about it. When the British Empire stretched across most of Old Earth, did they give their outer colonies the latest and greatest? No. They gave them the old, obsolete, and reliable. Particularly in weapons. They gave the colonists old muskets and flintlocks and other hand-me-down stuff. The newest and best weapons went to the Redcoats. Then if there was a rebellion, the natives had inferior equipment. It’s the same with our beloved State. The latest and greatest is produced and distributed on the inner string planets, safely in the State’s hands. We get the old and obsolete stuff out here in the sticks.”
We mulled this over. I thought she had a point. Jacob stuck by his reliability argument. Jeremy disagreed with everybody. The five of us talked about it into the wee hours of the night.
-+-
A few days later I broached the subject with the Professor when we had a moment together. Physician Patel left the room after they both completed a thorough examination of my digestive processes.
Professor Cruz looked thoughtful. “State control, you say?”
“Actually, it was your daughter’s idea. I was just curious what you thought about it.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it was the State exerting a form of control. Or, punishment, even. The farther away a colony is from the locus of power, the more difficult it becomes for the mother country to keep it. The Janus String offers a unique dilemma to the State. Obviously, a local government has to be set up to establish local control, but the home powers are ever more removed with each new planet.
“Making the population of a new planet dependent on materials from the older planets for survival offers an excellent means of controlling the population. The problems for the State arise when they run out of new planets to colonize and the ones on the outer string become ever more self sufficient.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Like now?”
He nodded. “Like now. The State had momentum, opening Janus Twenty-eight from New Texas to Redwood, then Twenty-nine to Orange. But, our primates put a big wrench in their plans. This brought the bureaucracies of the inner string to halt our exploration of the stars. Fear led to indecision. Indecision led to paralysis.
There are no plans to open Janus Thirty any time soon, even though the components are in place, or nearly so. There is no desire to explore beyond Orange, no desire to capitalize on Redwood and Orange, or colonize them. There’s bitter infighting among functionaries and bureaucrats, with the side afraid of what else might be out there when we go through the next Janus winning out against all others. The State is rotting in stasis.”
He paused to put away some equipment in the lab.
“In the meantime, collectivists struggle for r
elevance on the outer planets while individualists have no other places to go with the Janus String closed.”
“Collectivists?”
“The State is the collective. Everyone is part of the State and the State tells everyone what to do. Unfortunately for everyone, there are only a few individuals making all the decisions. Those comprising most of the collective have little or no say in their lives.
“Fortunately for us, the State made a critical mistake. Researchers, Scientists, Professors, and other academic types tend to congregate in the Universities. The State granted Universities, notably on the outer planets, their own charters. A University is self-governing. It has its own police force, its own bureaucracies, its own sets of rules and laws.
“What the State didn’t consider, is that individualists would gravitate away from the State and into anything offering a little more freedom. In time, the Universities on New Texas, Athena, and Alexandria became hotbeds of freedom, filled with like-minded people who generally wish to be left alone by the State and do their own thing. ‘Liberty Centers’ thrived. I’m sure you’ve enjoyed the black markets on those planets.”
I nodded. Indeed, I thought. The black market on New Texas is outstanding.
“You’ll have noticed all the black markets on those planets are on University land.”
I hadn’t thought about it, but now that he said it I knew he was right.
“The State has no authority there, and the University turns a blind eye to things the State may otherwise proscribe. So the arts, literature, and music flourish in the Universities. You’ll notice books, paintings, music . . . all those things are available in the black market that aren’t for sale elsewhere because they’re prohibited by the State. Intellectual discoveries, research, pure science . . . all these also take place in the Universities, out from under the glare of heavy-handed State bureaucrats.
“As for the other problem of giving individualists somewhere to go, in the past when new planets were opened on a regular basis, individualists always had new areas to go spend their time and talents. Each generation rushed forward to the next planet in the string. Research it, classify the fauna, write new stories about it. Enjoy life a little before the State closed in and the planet became ‘civilized.’
“But now, there is stasis. There are no new planets to explore, and the latest ones are closed off, except to prisoners and outcasts. Now, individualists fester on the last ‘civilized’ planets, which happen to be the ones farthest from the State’s locus of power.”
He paused for a moment, then locked eyes with mine. A smile slowly spread across his face.
“Now, we have time for a revolution.”
He was right. Revolution came a few days later.
Chapter Ten
I hoed a garden row one mid-morning, stopped at the end of it and started on the next one. Somebody ran by the garden, heading full tilt toward the central building.
I kept hoeing. Then somebody else ran by. Then two more. When I saw Anusha running my direction, I stepped out and stopped her.
“What’s going on?”
“They’ve taken over New Texas!”
And she ran off. Not knowing what she was talking about, I dropped the hoe and took off after her.
Everybody gathered at the central building, the same place I’d first met the Professor and where all meetings of importance occurred. We milled around, everybody talking at once. I discovered this building also housed the base’s communication equipment.
I found Jason and Jeremy. We each traded our lack of information.
Dee Dee stepped out of a room carrying a wireless speaker, followed by Jacob with a tripod. Everybody stopped talking and watched Jacob unfold the tripod. Dee Dee set the speaker on it.
“Give us just a minute, we’ll pipe the broadcast in here.”
She and Jacob stepped back into the communications room. A few seconds later the speaker crackled to life.
“This is Antonio Montoya, President of New Texas A and M University.”
“He’s the ‘A and M’ in New Texas A and M,” Jason quipped. A few nervous chuckles spread about the room.
“His middle initials cancel it out,” Jeremy said. “That’s not his full name. He has two others. ‘Iglesias Fernando,’ or ‘Fernando Iglesias,’ I forget which.”
“I was just kidding.”
I shushed them both as the speech continued.
“Today, New Texas A and M forces occupied the State Building in New Austin. We also took over the Governor’s Mansion, and the spaceport. We have seized control of New Houston, New Fort Worth, and other major cities. State forces have fled and are in hiding. By fiat and by fact, we now control the entire planet of New Texas.
“Casualties so far have been light. Where we’ve met resistance, force has been used as necessary. Many State Agents and Galactic Police have peacefully surrendered and are being detained with all due consideration for their well-being.
“We do not take the use of force lightly. We would prefer opposition to remain peaceful. Where State personnel violently resist us, however, we will not hesitate to respond in kind.
“All State personnel within the sound of my voice should be aware that armed resistance to those operating under the University charter will be dealt with swiftly, justly, and with lethal countermeasures. Make no mistake: if you oppose us, we will strike back. Remain peaceful, and you will be treated appropriately.”
President Montoya paused briefly, as if collecting his thoughts.
“This is an exciting time in the history of New Texas. Our planet is the first of hopefully many in which a University charter will apply to all citizens, not just students and faculty and those residing within University borders.
“I urge all citizens to remain calm during this time of transition. I repeat that State personnel will be treated appropriately provided they do not resort to violence.
“Together we will work through this time of crisis, and we will forge a new planetary government under a global University charter that is separate and better than the State’s and all its past abuses.
“Together, we will form a bright tomorrow for New Texas, one that benefits citizens everywhere along the Janus String. One that brings hope for freer societies, and one that guarantees personal liberties for generations to come.”
There was a long pause, then the speech started again. Obviously it was on a loop.
“This is Antonio Montoya, President of New Texas A and M University . . .”
We all burst out talking at once, some cheering, some raising questions, some expressing fear, all voicing excitement.
The door to the communications room opened again. This time the Professor came out, followed by Dee Dee and Jacob. He raised his hand and silence settled across the room.
“Meeting in ten minutes. Mandatory, all personnel.”
-+-
The days flew by and we learned more as news trickled in. Fighting continued to break out across New Texas as State forces outside the capitol battled it out with University forces. For the most part, resistance was mild, though. Either the State had a weaker presence in New Texas, or the University had been planning the operation so long and carefully that it went relatively smoothly. I suspect it was a combination of the two.
Revolution spread to Athena where New Hellenic University led the fight against State forces there. More deaths occurred as the fighting grew in intensity, especially around their spaceport. Anti-State sentiment was strong in Athena, but they were less prepared to fight. Fortunately, State forces there were also relatively weak. Eventually those fighting for New Hellenic prevailed, and their spaceport was secured.
The worst, bloodiest fighting occurred on Alexandria. Alexandria had four Universities, and coordinating revolution among them proved problematic. Polytech was the biggest, followed by Alexandria Institute of Technology, the University of Interstellar Knowledge, and Freewill Seminary.
Alexandria was a special planet, having those
four Universities. Most other planets had one University; an occasional planet here or there might have two. For years Alexandria was the last planet in the Janus String, and there’d been a movement to compile humanity’s knowledge at the end of the line, so to speak.
The freedom offered by four Universities, though, led the State to garrison more of their personnel there, and it had a much stronger presence on Alexandria than the other outer planets. Also, the State quickly imported reinforcements by passenger ships from New Hong Kong before the Alexandria spaceport fell.
The fighting grew intense as fresh Galactic Police streamed in. Each ship brought more men, all well trained, well armed, and wearing nearly impenetrable armor. Together with existing Agents and GPs already on Alexandria, they wreaked death and destruction across the planet, killing anybody in their way and laying waste to University cities and sites.
The GPs on Alexandria were horrible. We heard stories of indiscriminant killings, rape and wanton slaughter. One city belonging to UIK, the city of Memphis, was completely leveled. All inhabitants were killed without regard for who they were or their political sympathies. The fact they were in a University city was all that mattered to the GPs. When word leaked out that several State sympathizers seeking shelter there were slaughtered by the GPs, what little support the State had on the planet began to wane. More citizens began to take up arms with the Universities after that, and “The Battle of Memphis” became a tipping point in the war.
Resistance finally gelled, and the four Alexandria Universities united their people under one commander. Polytech students figured out a way to make “sticky grenades” that, when tossed at a GP, would stick to their armor before exploding. They were finally able to bring those heavily armed reinforcements down. We heard heroic tales about Seminary students in particular, a Bible in one hand and a sticky grenade in the other, fighting to the death against overwhelming odds. State forces were finally neutralized.
With the spaceport secure, the Alexandria Universities sent gunships to Janus 25 to prevent more State reinforcements from arriving. Three more ships from New Hong Kong came through the Janus, each loaded with fresh GPs. Each ship ignored challenges and set a course for Alexandria. Each ship was destroyed long before reaching the planet.