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Flames of Rebellion

Page 15

by Jay Allan


  Thornton stood at attention. “Yes, Your Excellency. Under Barrington.” Her crisp answer caught Stanton’s attention, and she took a quick look back and forth between the major and Wells.

  Tension? All my intel suggested they work very closely together. What’s changed?

  And how can I use it?

  Even as her mind shifted into overdrive, she introduced her military aide. “Governor, Major . . . may I present Colonel Robert Semmes?”

  Semmes just nodded, not even trying to hide his boredom.

  “Welcome, Colonel,” Wells said.

  Thornton snapped off a salute. “Colonel,” she said sharply.

  “Major,” Semmes said without emotion or preamble, “I would like to meet with you this afternoon to discuss the deployments and the transition of command.”

  “Transition of command?” It was Wells, not Thornton, who asked first.

  “Ah, yes, Governor,” Stanton said. “I’m afraid I have several resolutions from the senate regarding operations here. Including one placing Colonel Semmes in overall command of all colonial forces—your people, and the two battalions of reinforcements we brought with us.”

  Thornton was silent, her face noncommittal. Wells was far less reserved.

  “Reinforcements?” he asked. “I was not advised of any additional military forces.”

  You better believe you weren’t advised. “Indeed, Governor. I must apologize for that myself. I’m afraid I was too concerned about the information leaking before we arrived, so I forestalled any communications prior to my arrival. We will be significantly increasing enforcement operations, and I rather thought the additional troops would have more impact if they were somewhat of a surprise to the . . . problematic . . . elements of the population.” She moved her hand, trying to block more of the blazing sunshine. “Might we continue this discussion later, Governor? I would be eternally grateful if we could get out of this sun. I’ve been on that ship for quite some time, and would appreciate seeing my quarters and cleaning up. We could meet for dinner later if that is convenient, and I can update you then.”

  “Of course, Your Excellency. My apologies. I’m afraid I’ve become quite accustomed to the noon heat after three years.” He gestured toward a waiting transport. “And dinner would be ideal. Shall we say eight this evening?” He then added, “Please remember our day is just under twenty-six Earth hours, so we have a little over sixty-five minutes per hour, not sixty.”

  “Thank you, Governor. I believe my AI has made the suitable adjustments, but I will double-check.” She walked up toward the transport, waiting as an attendant opened the door. She stepped inside the vehicle and turned, leaning her head out of the portal as Semmes followed her through.

  “Dinner, then, Governor. I look forward to it.” She suspected Wells had intended to ride back with her, but she’d endured about as many pointless pleasantries as she could handle, at least before she had a chance to rest and change clothes. Dinner would be bad enough. Wells was not likely to react well to the decrees she carried . . . nor the fact that her mandate essentially transferred all his powers to her.

  She didn’t have anything against Wells. Indeed, she felt sorry for how he had destroyed his brilliant career. But she had no intention of making the same mistakes he had . . . or staying on this primitive rock one day longer than she had to. She was here to see all rebellious elements of Alpha-2’s population rooted out and law and order returned.

  That is just what she intended to do.

  “You will be my executive officer, Major. As soon as we settle in the reinforcements I brought with me, we will be substantially ramping up anti-insurgency efforts. Your people have been rather passive in conducting operations. We will be changing that immediately.”

  Thornton looked directly at Semmes, standing at attention as her new commander lectured her on the proper way to crush insurgents and rebels. She didn’t like the colonel, and her stomach was telling her he’d brought nothing but trouble with him. But she’d been a soldier long enough to respect the chain of command, even when her position at its top was ripped from her without warning.

  And replaced with a man who had never seen a day of combat in his life.

  She was thankful for the iron discipline she’d learned in the war. Without it, she might have punched the smug look right off this man’s face. Instead, she said, “The governor’s strategy was quite moderate, Colonel. Our rules of engagement were fairly restrictive. And the planetary constitution contains vestigial rights from the original colonial charter. I’m afraid our abilities to arrest suspects have been quite limited.”

  “Not anymore.” There was something in his voice, something that gave her a chill.

  Eagerness?

  Sadism?

  “Excuse me, sir, but ‘not anymore’ what? The rules of engagement? Our strat—”

  “Any of it. Moderate policies, restrictive rules of engagement, vestigial rights.”

  “But, sir, the constitution . . .”

  “Will be revoked, Major. Observer Stanton carries orders from the senate canceling the planetary constitution and authorizing her to declare martial law. I expect that she will act upon that within the next few days.” He paused, staring hard into her eyes. “We are finished playing with these people, Major. They are subject to the rule of Federal America, and while Governor Wells has been given plenty of time to test his theories of enlightened governance, he has nothing to show for it but failure.”

  “His recent speech appeared to reduce tensions . . .” But she let her words trail off. She had resented Wells for what he had promised the people, for his failure to punish the prisoners who had killed her soldiers. And now she found herself defending his policies. She was confused, uncertain what she truly thought.

  “Don’t mistake me, Major. I am not here—the observer is not here—to buy momentary solutions. They clearly have not worked. We are here to crush this rebellion before it starts by finding and exterminating disloyalty wherever it hides among the people. We will tear it out root and branch, Major, and when we are done, Alpha-2 will once again take its place as a productive and docile colony of Federal America.” He stared at her, his eyes blazing like fire. “Or, God help me, we will leave this planet a graveyard.”

  “Yes, sir.” Thornton held her superior’s stare, marshaling everything she had to remain professional. But inside, there was one thought, one that made her stomach flip: My God . . . he is insane.

  Wells stood in the media center, staring down at his feet as the crews prepared for the observer’s first broadcast. Just days before, he had been there to make his own address, one that had seemed to reduce the tensions in the city and throughout Alpha-2. He’d actually believed things might have turned the corner, that a peaceful solution was possible, as he’d insisted these past three years. But that moment of hope had been short-lived. Seven soldiers had been ambushed and murdered in four separate incidents since then, a totally unexpected turn of events. He knew it was only a matter of time now before the patrols on the streets retaliated, regardless of what orders they received.

  And now he had Asha Stanton to deal with. The observer was polite enough, if a bit arrogant. He could deal with a personality issue, but she had also come with a stack of decrees, senatorial orders that gave her virtual total authority over him, and others that imposed new restrictions on the population, outrages almost certain to provoke open rebellion. He supposed he should be grateful he still retained the title, though he didn’t fool himself there was any real meaning to that, nor that he would have much of his career left when he finally returned to Earth.

  At least I still have my title.

  He almost laughed out loud at that absurd thought, and the thing that stopped him was that he could see the tragedy beginning to happen all around him. And he couldn’t help but realize that much of the blame probably lay with him. He had used up so much time on a peaceful solution, and only now was he understanding there was little he could do to stop the esc
alation of violence. He’d tried to explain the danger to Stanton, but she lacked his appreciation of the mettle of the colonists. They would be intimidated, she’d told him confidently, by a show of force stronger than any they had seen before. Her forces would round up the troublemakers, the leaders, and the rest would meekly slip back into line. It would be ugly, violent perhaps, but it would also be short and definitive. Or so Asha Stanton had predicted.

  Wells knew the people of Alpha-2 better than that. They weren’t like the masses on Earth, accustomed to strict regulations and little freedom. Those who had immigrated out into space were predominantly drawn from the most troublesome groups on Earth. Indeed, that had been deliberate, an attempt to rid the urban populations of those most likely to cause unrest. That policy had come home to roost here, and the citizens of Alpha-2 were not so easily cowed as those back home. But Stanton didn’t seem to recognize the difference.

  She’s forgotten her history. She wasn’t born during the Great Civil War. She doesn’t know why that fight was so brutal—because humans are willing to die for things they believe in.

  The people of Alpha-2 are no different in that regard.

  He looked over to her. She was so young. Not that much older than Violetta, if he thought about it. And while he wouldn’t call her naïve, he had to believe she was in for quite the shock.

  Stanton saw him looking and gave Wells a polite nod. “Governor, if you are ready, won’t you join me at the podium? I think it will be helpful if we present a united front, don’t you agree?”

  He just nodded. It didn’t call for a more elaborate answer. Stanton didn’t really care what he thought, and her words had formed an invitation rather than an order as a courtesy only. The two of them knew who was really running Alpha-2 now.

  He walked up to the podium and stood next to Stanton. She was wearing a civilian business suit, stylish and clearly expensive. Her longish reddish-blond hair was tied up neatly behind her head, in a manner that was just becoming popular when Wells had left Earth to take up his post on Alpha-2.

  Probably the height of fashion now. On Earth at least. No one here will even notice.

  Stanton turned toward one of the technicians and nodded. A few seconds later the man said, “You are on in three . . . two . . . one . . .”

  “Citizens of colony Alpha-2, greetings. My name is Asha Stanton. I am the newly appointed federal observer assigned to assist Governor Wells in addressing the various problems facing this colony.”

  He had to give her credit: she definitely had a presence in front of the cameras. He could almost see why someone might be drawn to her. She just exuded professional competence.

  Let’s see how far that gets you here.

  “As you all know, there have been rampant protests in the cities of this world. Work stoppages. Acts of sabotage. General unrest that has not only endangered the safety of law-abiding colonists, but has also impacted the economy severely, resulting in the first instances of contraction in both the economic activity of the colony and the revenue provided through taxation to support the enormous costs of supplying and protecting this system.”

  Her voice had only changed slightly, but Wells caught it: a slight tightening, a hint of sternness.

  “That ends now. When dissidents and criminals are allowed to conduct their despicable acts with impunity, they make a mockery of civilized society. When provisions of the planetary constitution are misinterpreted to protect dangerous and hostile forms of speech and expression, they aid those who would destroy civilized society, not protect it.

  “Effective immediately, the planetary constitution is hereby suspended and replaced by the standard legal code of Federal America. No longer will acts that are crimes on Earth be tolerated on Alpha-2.

  “No longer will the streets be filled with protestors interfering with normal traffic and business affairs. Henceforth, all public gatherings are limited to a maximum of three participants. All public addresses without a permit issued by my office are prohibited. A curfew is now in place. All citizens without specific authorization are required to be in their homes by 8:00 P.M.

  “These changes may seem harsh to many of you. They may provoke feelings of confusion or anger. But such resentment should be directed toward the rebellious elements of Alpha-2’s population, toward the criminals who have made the streets unsafe. Who have killed seven loyal federal soldiers in the past three days alone.

  “I will repeat: these are the deeds of criminals, of evil men and women who seek to cause a disaster that will shake this world to its core. I will not allow this to happen.

  “Governor Wells and I call upon you now to reaffirm your allegiance to Federal America—to your nation—and, as its loyal citizens, to oppose all who would bring the scourge of revolution and war to this prosperous planet. Those who accept this sacred duty will stand with us, and with the soldiers who put themselves at risk every day to protect the peaceful citizens.

  “But those who insist upon pursuing a course of destruction, who continue to try to lead their neighbors with sedition and treason, heed my warning now: your actions will no longer be tolerated. You will be held accountable for your misdeeds. We will come for you. We will stop your illegal insurrection, and we shall not rest until your evil is removed from the hills and valleys and cities of Alpha-2.”

  She paused a moment, glaring into the camera. Then she made a gesture with her hand, and the technician cut the broadcast.

  She turned toward Wells, and he could only imagine what his face betrayed now that the camera was off. She was politic enough to just say, “You looked troubled, Everett. Don’t be. You tried it your way for three years. It didn’t work. Now it’s time to give my way a chance. I’m going to miss one opera season while I’m deployed here dealing with all this. I don’t intend to miss two.”

  She smiled and walked across the studio, toward the elevators. Wells just stood and watched. He knew she would be more aggressive than he had been, but he’d just watched her virtually challenge the people to rise up in rebellion. He’d worried she would inadvertently cause the revolution she’d come to prevent, but now he knew he’d misinterpreted her purpose.

  She wanted to provoke the revolution he’d been desperately trying to avoid. And when it came, she planned to crush it once and for all, with as much force as it took.

  He stood still for another moment. Then he hurried toward the restroom and emptied his stomach.

  CHAPTER 13

  MAIN HOUSE

  WARD FARM

  FEDERAL COLONY ALPHA-2 (HAVEN)

  EPSILON ERIDANI II

  “Things are getting out of hand, Damian. I’ve agreed with you from the beginning about staying out of it all, but that’s getting harder and harder.” Devlin Kerr sat in the great room of Damian’s farmhouse, staring at his friend and host.

  There were a half dozen of them clustered around the fire roaring in the massive stone hearth. Damian had felt the first hint of autumn, so he’d ordered it lit before the others arrived. But now he thought it was a bit too symbolic. Haven wasn’t exactly in flames yet, but no one in the room doubted that’s where things were heading.

  “He’s right, Damian,” Luci Morgan said. “Half of my people are involved in some kind of rebel group or another. I’ve looked the other way, but if the federals are going to crack down, what do I do? Turn them all in? Or risk getting dragged into this mess?” Like Damian and Devlin, Luci was a retired officer. Like most of the others in the room as well. They’d all taken farms on Haven as their bonuses, and for the most part, they’d made successes out of their postmilitary lives.

  Successes threatened by the current situation.

  “That is why I asked you all here tonight. This affects more than just us. There are many retired veterans on Haven, men and women those of us in this room led in battle. And many others, too. They find themselves in the same situation as us. Our adopted home is sliding into a nightmare. The protestors, the rebels . . . they shout calls for war, without k
nowing the true nature of the hell they so badly seek to unleash.”

  Damian looked across the room. Everyone present was a veteran of the last war, most of them officers. All except Jamie. He was sitting across the room, silent. Damian knew his friend sympathized with the rebels. He suspected those sympathies were strong enough to tempt Grant into signing up for one of the militia units the Guardians of Liberty were hurriedly raising. He even understood. And if it hadn’t been for his influence—and obviously Katia’s—the young man might be with the revolutionaries right now.

  He gave Jamie a small nod, a touch of pleading in his eyes. Just a little patience, my friend.

  He was gratified when Jamie bit his lip, but then nodded in return.

  Good. He continued. “I feel I can speak freely to all of you. I sympathize with many of the rebels’ positions. Haven is my home now, if an adopted one, and I feel the call to be a true son of this world. I have bristled at the restrictions that have been imposed, in a seemingly endless barrage since I arrived here. And I am as outraged as any Havenite at the new decrees, the suspension of the planetary constitution, the curfews. I feel the same things our neighbors feel, that I suspect each of you feels.”

  He looked around the room once more. Most of those present were nodding, and all were staring, clearly looking to him for leadership. A mantle he still wasn’t sure he wanted to wear. He basically said as much in his next breath.

  “But there is another side to all this, for me at least, and for all of you as well, I suspect. I was born in Federal America, I joined her military, I fought under that flag, for that flag. I lost friends on the battlefields of Federal America’s last war, and when that conflict was over, I was decorated, given a chance to build a new life. I say all this now because I want to be very clear: for all I sympathize with the rebels, I do not believe I can take arms against the nation I shed blood to protect. I cannot help this new world that I love so much destroy itself, to plunge blindly into war not truly understanding, as we here surely do, the true cost of that kind of conflict.”

 

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