“What few knew at the time was that a group of subversives were working behind the scenes in all four countries to destabilize the status quo. These people included some of the most powerful politicians and business leaders in each country. Their goal was to start a world war that would eventually unify the planet under one government. They did not particularly care which government it was, because they thought they could control that government and rule the world from behind the scenes.”
I broke in. “This group was the Brotherhood?”
“Correct. It did not matter to them that such a war would kill millions. In their minds, it was a case of ‘the greater good’ taking precedence. In the long run, world commerce would run more smoothly and the planet would be a more stable place, both socially and politically. If it took tens of millions of lives to accomplish this goal, so be it.”
“That’s monstrous!” Shari fumed.
“Indeed. And to a large degree their plans worked. They did induce a global conflict, by assassinating the leader of Semstat and making it look as if the ruler of Jesern was tacitly responsible. Jesern had a mutual-defense pact with Rygola, which was then pulled into battle. Marpala, the smallest of the superstates declared neutrality.
“The war lasted eleven years, until Semstat surrendered. Its major cities had been laid waste, but the cities of Rygola and Jesern were little better off. Their governments were nearly bankrupted by the war. The two nations teetered on the brink of economic ruin. They decided their best chance of recovery lay in merging to pool their resources. While the new nation of Rysern and the decimated Semstat were busy rebuilding, Marpala went on the offensive. In a lightning war, they conquered all of Semstat and annexed large sections of Rysern.
“Neither the unstable government nor the economy of Rysern were in any condition to resist Marpala’s incursions. Within a year, Marpala had consolidated its new territories. It went on the offensive again. Rysern fought back with everything it had, but it was not enough. It took six years to stamp out the last pockets of resistance, but at last Marpala ruled the planet. In all, more than 420 million of our people died in the wars and the aftermath: starvation, disease, and rioting.”
It didn’t take a telepath to sense Shari’s horror. I can’t say I felt any different.
“But,” I interrupted, “you said their plans worked to a “large” degree. It sounds to me like it worked out just as they wanted—the four superstates merged into one.”
“That is true. However, the economy of the entire world was thrown into depression—much worse than the Brotherhood had expected. Thus it took many more years than they had hoped for the economic efficiencies to evidence themselves. Still, you are correct that in the end, they did achieve their desired goal.
“Where their plan failed was in assuming that conquering all the nations of the planet would eventually produce stability worldwide. Instead, old national and regional identities, long suppressed under the superstates, arose again. Some declared independence. This resulted in additional years of warfare, to suppress multiple rebellions.
“Finally, the Brotherhood decided that working from behind the scenes was too inefficient. It was time to step forward and take control directly. They staged a coup and instituted planetwide martial law. They disbanded the parliamentary form of government in effect and replaced it with a twenty-three person council—using the Brotherhood name openly for the first time—representing commerce, the military, and political leaders at the regional level. The Council of Brothers is led by Korr.”
“Korr. Sorry for the interruption, but is there some significance to names that start with ‘k’? I notice you seem to have a lot of them.”
“Names? Ah, yes. The ‘k’ sound in our language denotes a level of accomplishment—somewhat like Sir or Doctor or Senator in your language. I was born, ‘Arsh.’ I earned the right to the ‘k’ prefix when I became head of a major research project at home, before the Brotherhood took over. Should Allara achieve the same measure of respect, she will become known as Kallara.”
“Got it. Thanks. Please continue.”
“Korr, I believe, fancies himself a visionary. A zealot is more like it. He sees himself eventually ruling benevolently over a happy, productive, peaceful world—no matter what it takes to achieve that goal. Instead, his harsh policies and dictatorial manner are destroying our society, our economy, and any chance for peace there might be. There is famine in regions where it was unknown for generations. Industry is all but shut down in others. Political leaders opposed to Korr and the Council have been arrested on charges of treason and executed without trial, all in a matter of days. If he continues in this manner for much longer, all the former nations and regional cultures will end up rebelling and fighting not only the Brotherhood’s rule but one another. Instead of global peace, we will end up with global conflict. I am not sure our people can survive it.”
“No kidding. Does the rest of the Brotherhood support his actions, or is he doing all this on his own?”
“Some support him, but many do not. They are afraid to challenge him. He has the support of many influential people in government, commerce, and the military—especially the military. Korr is the key. If we can remove him from power, there is the possibility of undoing the damage he has caused and begin rebuilding. Without him, our people might be able to finally achieve a measure of peace and regain our former prosperity.”
“So how do you propose to do that, and how do Lola and I fit in? We don’t know anything about your political process, or much of anything else about your culture.”
“True. However, that is not how we think you can be of assistance. We hope to enlist your unique skills in a very specific way.”
“Oh? And what might that be?”
“We want you to help us depose Korr—alive, if possible, by assassination if necessary.”
“Assassination? I thought you and your people were peaceniks.”
“This is a difficult time for us all. Many people, representing diverse cultural and political viewpoints were thrown together in a common cause: to stop Korr. Not everyone in the rebellion abhors violence. Some are part of the military itself. We have exhausted all nonviolent means of removing Korr from office. Now we are left with armed conflict as the only solution. However, outright civil war would tear us apart and could result in millions of new casualties.”
“So your leaders decided that a surgical strike to kill one person to save many others was the best alternative?”
“Not initially. Our leader, Kamurin, believed that Korr was far too well guarded for an assassination to be successful. She believed that we needed to subvert enough of the military to our cause to stage a coup by direct assault on Korr’s headquarters. However, the situation has changed.”
“Oh? How so?”
“For one thing, you are here. For another, Kamurin is dead.”
“What? What happened?”
“While you were on the island recuperating, Kamurin and her advisors were ambushed by a Brotherhood patrol. Kamurin escaped, but her injuries were mortal. She died later that day, but not before naming her successor as leader of the rebellion.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Who’s the new leader?”
Karsh paused a moment before answering. “I am.”
I floated there, flabbergasted, for a good five seconds, trying to absorb everything. “Wait a minute. You’re the new leader—of the entire rebellion?”
He made a mental nod of agreement.
I whistled under my breath. “I had no idea you were that deeply involved. I guess that explains why you were so preoccupied recently. Wait a minute. Are you telling me that you made the decision to assassinate Korr?”
“Correct.”
I projected sympathy. “That must have been tough for you.”
“Extremely. I firmly believe in avoiding conflict whenever possible, employing all available alternatives. However, sometimes there is no choice, as now. If killing one person is the onl
y way to save millions, then so be it. I will deal with my conscience at a later time, as I had to following Tiny’s death.”
“I still don’t understand how my being here changed anything, or what you think I can do against an army.”
“You underestimate yourself.”
“Really. Look, I know I can stun people at a distance, but I don’t think I have the ability to kill anyone that way. Besides, if I couldn’t bring myself to kill Scar in cold blood after what he did to me, I don’t think I could do that to someone I don’t even know.”
“That will not be necessary. If you can stun all of Korr’s protection detail, a strike team can penetrate his stronghold and capture him, if possible; or kill him, if not. That is all we ask of you. Stun Korr and his people, and we will do the rest.”
I had to admit, his idea sounded like it could work. I hadn’t heard the minutiae of the plan yet, and I was mindful of the old saying that “no battle plan survives the first encounter with the enemy,” but it certainly seemed like an elegant solution to the Azarti’s problem.
I looked to Shari, and she nodded.
“All right, then,” I said. “We’ll do whatever we can to help. After all, we’d be dead if not for you.”
We got comfortable and went over the details.
* * * *
As usual, with such sweeping statements as “stun Korr and his people, and we will do the rest,” there turned out to be a lot more involved in the execution of the plan than merely walking up to the doors of the Council of Brothers, knocking everyone out, and walking in.
For one thing, Shari and I were pretty conspicuous. We wouldn’t get within miles of the Council without being seen and stopped. For another, the entire city of Ballan was an armed fortress. It didn’t seem possible to get within range of my sledgehammer—whatever that range was. I’d only used it once in anger, and it hadn’t really been under my control. It just…happened.
To complicate matters, Korr seemed convinced that the rebels were out to get him. As a result, he tended to move around a lot, seldom staying in the same place for more than a day. That made it impossible to stage a frontal assault, and nearly as difficult to set up an ambush. We either had to lure him to a place of our choosing, or we had to somehow find out where he was going to be ahead of time.
That would be tricky. The rebels had spies keeping track of Korr’s activities, but no one in his inner circle, no one with access to his daily schedule. Likewise, it was apparent that Korr had spies inside the rebellion. How else could they have found our little island refuge in the middle of the ocean? Pure accident? Sure, and the pope is an eighteen-year-old Jewish fashion model.
Still, we were Karsh’s secret weapon. Only a few rebels knew of our existence. It was possible that Korr hadn’t learned of us yet.
“How ‘bout a diversion?” Shari asked, consciously or unconsciously donning her Lola persona.
She, Karsh, Keldor, and I were strategizing in the latest of a succession of air-filled safehouses. The four of us sat on ridges extending from the walls. They served as benches or shelves, as needed. Seeing the Azarti actually sitting for once somehow made them seem even smaller and more childlike than before. These were the leaders of a planetary rebellion? It was hard to believe sometimes.
“What do you mean?” I replied. “Stage a fake attack somewhere so all his guards will rush there and leave him unguarded? I don’t think—”
“No,” she interrupted. “Jus’ the opposite. He won’t send his personal guard detail to where the ruckus is takin’ place. He has an army for that. No. Stage a huge attack somewhere nearby so he’ll hole up with his guards around him for protection. Get them all in one place and then hit them there.”
“That makes sense,” Karsh agreed. “However, we still have the problem of not knowing where he will be on a given day. How do we feint nearby if we do not know where “nearby” will be?”
“He mus’ have a fallback position, a place he’d go to in an emergency. A fortress, or somethin’. If the attack is big enough, or if you attack several places around the city so he’d fear for his safety, he’s bound to head for the safest place he knows of.”
Keldor spoke up. “She has a point, Karsh. However, the attacks would have to be massive. A few minor skirmishes would not be enough.”
Karsh continued the thought. “Correct. If we do this it means committing a significant portion of our military strength to this plan. If we fail, the entire rebellion could be crippled.”
“Maybe so,” I said, “but if you succeed, game over. You win.”
“True. The risk, however, is large.”
“It’s certainly a bold move. But isn’t that what you were looking for—a lightning strike that Korr wouldn’t see coming?”
“Certainly. My only question is whether this is the right bold move.”
“Gotcha.” I paused for a moment. “Do you have any others plays under consideration?”
“Nothing serious.”
“So, the choice is between this idea and doing nothing until someone comes up with something better?”
I sensed amusement from Karsh. “You make an excellent point. I must discuss this idea with my advisors; however, I believe Lola’s suggestion offers us the greatest chance of a decisive victory.”
I turned and gave Shari a wink. Then I was struck by the magnitude of what we were doing. We were about to change the course of history for an entire planet.
What the hell had we gotten ourselves into?
Chapter Seventeen
The attack was scheduled to take place in three days. Four separate teams would stage assaults on armories in different parts of the city. The goal was to create massive explosions to make it seem that the attacks were larger than they really were. By using small strike teams, Karsh minimized the number of rebel forces at risk, just in case this whole plan backfired.
Fortunately, Korr was paranoid enough that he kept several armories and soldier barracks in suburban areas within a mile of his stronghold, which he called Grambala—named for a type of mollusk that’s especially difficult to crack open.
Our targets were carefully chosen to avoid large population concentrations. We hoped to keep the casualties low. The plan called for attacking during working hours—when people presumably wouldn’t be at home near the armories—and making bomb threats in the surrounding neighborhoods to hopefully clear out any stay-at-homes. Even so, civilian casualties were likely, and regrettable. As difficult for Karsh as the decision was to use force against Korr, the thought of possibly taking innocent lives had to be ten times harder to accept. But he was the leader of the revolution now, and sometimes a leader has to make unpleasant decisions, decisions that went against his morals—but decisions that were nonetheless necessary.
In addition to the four decoy teams—codenamed Kyron, Jepcrul, Mayda, and Lipsu, after species of colorful fish—a fifth team consisted of Karsh, Keldor, Shari and myself, along with four other Azarti as protection. I didn’t know three of them, but the fourth was Essin, our cook and a trusted member of Karsh’s inner circle.
Our team was called Palashi and Karsh was Palashi-One, for security reasons. I tried to dissuade Karsh from coming along.
“Look, it’s foolhardy for the leader of the entire revolution to put himself at risk like this. If you get captured or killed, it’s all over.”
He sent me an emphatic, “No! I cannot ask others to risk their lives if I am not willing to do the same. If I fall, another will take my place, just as I took over for Kamurin. The rebellion will continue until Korr is deposed.”
I don’t know how much of that attitude was compassion and how much was inexperience. Either way, he was going.
Shari and I would be the surveillance squad. Since arriving in Ballan, we’d worked on developing and honing Shari’s eavesdropping skills. It turned out that she had an even better mental “ear” than I did when it came to listening in on Azarti conversations at a distance. She lacked my sledgehammer, thoug
h, so the success of the raid would come down to my ability to stun Korr and his security detail.
No pressure, right?
Over the next three days, our job was to try to locate and track Korr. One technique that some Azarti had mastered was the ability to amplify and forward another’s thoughts. By using a network of “repeaters,” one Azarti could broadcast his message to the whole planet. It was a low-tech alternative to having communication satellites in orbit, but it appeared to work just as well. As a result, Shari and I had heard Korr’s mental voice several times during propaganda broadcasts to the populace. We hoped that with a “fingerprint” of his voice, we’d be able to pick him out of the entourage around him.
The sixth group was the strike team that would actually attack Korr’s stronghold and attempt to apprehend him. That group consisted of twenty-three members of various military Special Ops organizations who were united in opposing Korr’s regime. The codename for the team was Rismal, and the team leader was Rismal-One.
Shari and I never learned the names of the other individuals involved in the attacks or the exact targets. Apparently the concept of “need to know” is a universal one. It seemed silly, in our case. After all, what were the odds of us turning traitor against our good friends, Karsh, Keldor, and the others? Besides, I didn’t know any of the other insurgents, so their names wouldn’t have meant anything to me. Still, there was always the possibility that we could be captured and made to talk before the attacks took place.
When Karsh explained the attack plan to Shari and me, I was concerned that we wouldn’t be able to get close enough to Grambala for me to knock out everyone inside as well as those guarding it on the outside. The entire plan depended on a small team being able to dart in, grab Korr, and dart out, without being seen or having anyone sound the alarm. If I missed even one guard, advisor, secretary, or shoeshine boy, the whole plan would go up in smoke.
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