Annales Imperii - I. Ostiia

by Ted Mayes

  “Personally, I would agree with you,” Michael said, “but it is the emperor's desire to make as little impact on society as possible.” Jon looked up from his paperwork and Michael had to smile at the expressions of astonishment on the faces of both young men. “Feel free to ask any questions that may come to you.”

  “Sir,” Ari said first, “how can what the emperor and the empire decides to do have only a ‘little’ impact. With Capitol and the colonies on the Moon and Mars, and with all the scientific knowledge about the system that’s being uncovered, there’s no way that the empire's ‘impact’ on society could be anything but huge.”

  “True, but notice, I didn’t say that the emperor wanted to make only a small impact. His desire is for the impact to be as small as possible. In this case, the cartel is not directly attacking, or seeking to attack, Latins. Therefore, much as you and I might like to simply eliminate certain individuals, the emperor considers that as using too much power, making too great an impact.”

  “So, what is the plan, Sir, to get the attention of the cartel and get them to stop trying to ship drugs into Ostia.”

  “You will get in contact with intelligence and the various branches of Imperial Security. You will see to it that information about the location of cartel money is provided to every law enforcement agency where such money is to be found. The various agencies will, I’m sure, be more than willing to confiscate the drug money, and the cartel will be informed that this will continue until such time as they assure us that they will stop trying to smuggle drugs. I would think that they would get the message fairly quickly.”

  “Sir,” Jon objected, “what if they still don’t get it? What if the cartel decides to try and escalate the conflict?”

  “That would be the point when we would begin more drastic measures. Understood?”

  “I think so, Sir. Would what the two men were considering for Beth be considered an escalation?”

  Michael was silent for a moment. “I didn’t give you all the details at the time, but they were planning kidnap, rape and murder, even after they were warned. So, yes, I would say they were escalating the situation.”

  “Sir, what about the problem with Al-Qaeda?” Ari said. “How does that get resolved with as little impact as possible?”

  “The first phase was them trying to detonate bombs around imperial locations. There were, I believe, some 93 attempts, with no bomb detonating. There were repeated notes from the Foreign department informing them that we were not trying to influence their culture in the least, and asking them to revoke the fatwah. Their only response was a call to greater effort against the ‘Christian empire that was planning a crusade’ against Islam.”

  “That led to the second phase, which we are currently experiencing. Bombs that are directed at imperial targets are transported and detonated – at Al-Qaeda training camps, bomb factories and other installations. So far, there have have been only around 25 bomb attempts – it seems that we are eliminating bomb factories and bomb makers faster than Al-Qaeda can develop them. Foreign has had messages delivered to all the senior leaders of Al-Qaeda, asking them, again, to revoke the fatwah. So far, they are discussing things – apparently they were greatly surprised and concerned that we knew exactly where to deliver the messages.”

  “And if they don’t respond to the message and keep on attempting offensive actions against the empire?”

  “Then,” Michael said with a shrug, “if they really want to be at war with the empire, then we will take the offense.” He looked at the two young men. “Any other questions?”

  “Yes, Sir,” Jon said. “I’m still having trouble with the idea of the emperor wanting ‘as little impact’ as possible.”

  Michael leaned back in his chair, considering the answer. “First of all, remember your Politics 101 last semester. In your discussions of politics and a ‘just’ ruler, was there any hint that a just ruler would kill people at a moment’s notice? If I remember those decisions correctly, the taking of human life, for any reason was to be the last possible action to be employed. In fact, the emperor has an ‘Ambrose rule’ you’ll study later that requires him to wait at least 48 hours before an order to send the Marines into action can take effect.”

  “Second, sooner or later your legal studies will involve the law of the nations and the concept of a ‘just’ war. Involved in all that is the concept that the least amount of force necessary is the ‘right’ and ‘just’ thing to do. Lastly, when you youngsters get to history 101 in the fall, you will find that of all human activities, war causes the most change. Even apart from material destruction and societal changes, the loss of life causes unknowable changes. What would have happened to the US if the 750,000 people hadn’t died in the Civil War? What would the world be like if the 16 million deaths of WWI and the 85 million deaths of WWII hadn’t taken place?” Michael looked carefully at Jon. “Does that help explain the emperor’s desire for small impacts?”

  “To a certain extent, Sir. It certainly is something to consider carefully.”

  “Can we say, then, Sir,” Ari broke in, “based on the ‘difficulty’ the empire had with a Mafia family in New York, and the Desert Storm campaign, that the empire is reluctant to start a war, but once the fighting starts, the empire is rather ‘ruthless’ in that war?”

  “That’s one way of looking at it, though the emperor looks at it from a slightly different viewpoint. His main concern is the protection of Latins and citizens, and he finds it appropriate to do whatever is necessary to make someone very ‘reluctant’, shall we say, to cause any harm to an imperial Latin or citizen.”

  Jon was smiling now. “Another question, Sir?” At Michael's nod, he went on, “How are your wedding plans doing?”

  Michael laughed. “If and when the two of you get to that point, you’ll find that the groom, if he’s smart, has no wedding plans. Speaking from personal experience and from watching others, the bride seems to focus on what is close at hand, she faces inward – what the wedding is going to be like, what the house or apartment is going to be like, what the family life is going to be like. The groom tends to think and face outward - what’s going on in the city, the empire, the solar system. Now, there are lots of exceptions to that rule, Mary Chen is one of them, and women most certainly have their own views – in fact, the empress can be pretty bloody-minded at times. However, trying to ‘run’ a house or family against the ideas and wishes of the lady is not a way to find success. That being said, back to work, gentlemen.”

  They began the daily work. First Ari, then Jon, would brief Michael about the need for an upcoming decision, and give him the background. Then they would wait for his decision. It was a game between the two of them to see if they could guess what he would decide, and have an appropriate document ready for Michael to sign. When their ‘official’ three-month tour of duty had started, Ari was far better at it, but they were now relative equals in guessing. About half of the time they made right guesses, but the times they guessed wrong still had them scratching their heads for explanations.

  By the time 1100 arrived, most of the paperwork had been dealt with, and Michael dismissed the two young men. Ari hurried out, but Jon held back momentarily. “Can I ask another question, Uncle Mike?”

  Michael was a little surprised at the informal tone, but nodded anyway.

  “How did you know that Amanda, or Angel, was the one for you?”

  “Having some serious discussions with Beth?” Jon nodded and Michael smiled in return. “Well, I’d have to say that was first of all some kind of attraction between the two of us. Then the more I got to know her and her personality, the more I became interested in her and being around her. Then I started noticing that I was happier and more content when she was around. The final stage, at least for me, was when I realized that I could exist without her in my life, but it wasn’t a very pleasant experience.” He looked at Jon closely. “You know, you ought to ask your Dad the same question.”

  “I have,”
Jon said with a grin, “and his answer was a lot like yours. He did say, though, that he knew Mom was the right one for him long before he could put it into words.”

  “Well, I won’t ask any questions, but I’ve thought for some time that Beth would be a good match for you. Now, you’re dismissed, and I’m going to leave early for lunch. Say ‘hi’ to Beth for me.”

  “I will, Uncle Mike. You go say ‘hi’ to your fiancé and I’ll go have lunch with my girl.”

  * * * * *

  It was only two weeks to the wedding and Amanda was slightly surprised how calm and composed she was – or at least how calm and composed people thought she was. At first she had been upset (but tried hard not to show it) when Mrs. Harrison and the others had barged into the picture. As the days went on, though, she began to appreciate the help – it was almost like having a small group of mothers helping her get things lined up.

  They’d had their last pre-marriage counseling session with the chaplain. All of the sessions had been good, but she had really liked his parting advice – to keep on talking to each other, no matter how difficult it was (and he’d assured them that it would be, since men either thought or felt and women thought and felt at the same time, two totally different ways of thinking). In fact, even more surprising to her, she’d started going to church with Michael, and was seriously considering becoming a Christian. The Jesus that the Bible talked about was … well, ‘compelling’ was the only word she could think of.

  The wedding dress was made, a lovely ivory satin and lace gown – and, wonder of wonders, her father had insisted on paying for it, and the rest of the expenses as well. A meal was being catered and the wedding reception was arranged for the meeting room in the University commons on level 1 (the reception had gotten too big for the residence). Everything seemed to be taken care of, and her father had already arranged for a room at the Hilton in Ostia. Despite all their arguments through the years, he was coming to ‘give her away.’ In fact, her father seemed to be amused by the whole situation. She’d heard him tell Michael that he was glad that, finally, someone could handle his headstrong daughter.

  She wasn’t sure that was quite the way to think about it, but she was not going to start an argument with her father at this point in time. Besides, Henry Gallagher had just published his interview with Michael and it was being widely reprinted. She’d even learned a couple of things, because Henry had talked with some of the Marines who had been stationed next to imperial forces during Desert Storm. The descriptions of the nightly raids going out had been clear in the danger that was involved and Henry had found a photo from a Marine photographer that had shown Michael and some of his men coming in at dawn – exhausted, splattered with blood and looking extremely dangerous. She knew that the photograph fit Michael in so many ways, but at the same time she knew that Michael's ‘dangerous’ side was now only shown to those who were trying to hurt her. In a way she would never have expected, that ‘dangerous’ side made her feel safe.

  She was glad that Henry’s article was turning out to be popular. The past month had made a big difference in what was actually starting to look like a news agency. Henry had quietly put the word out to his friends, and names had started coming in fairly quickly. It took some time to look the names and the individuals over – Henry had even insisted on flying them to Ostia to meet with them. Some of the regional offices had been staffed – Paris, Bombay, Montevideo, Manila had ‘cub’ members of the IP on station and starting to contribute, and individuals were being investigated for the other offices. Henry, after the staffing was completed, was going to run the office at Capitol. Amanda was planning to cover Ostia, but Henry had suggested finding someone else to help, since she was also going to be busy as the ‘chairman’ of IP. A very gifted young graduate from the University was willing to take the Mars office.

  Today she had some other interesting little jobs to perform. Another two of Henry’s suggestions for joining the IP were scheduled to meet with her, get shown around Ostia and then be sent on to Capitol to meet Henry. She’d already gotten word that the first individual, a Russian, had no connections with Russian (or any other kind) intelligence. She’d looked in on Michael at the residence and had gotten her good morning kiss. She’d gone topside and walked down the Via Publica to a building next to the Post building that held a number of offices. Henry had decided that there needed to be some kind of IP office at Ostia, not only because financial records needed to be kept, but also because Ostia was going to be a regional bureau office.

  By the time Amanda got there, there was a middle-aged man standing by the door of the office. She recognized him by the picture that was included in the file she was carrying. As she got to the door, he straightened up in anticipation. “Dimitry Stephanovitch Popov?” she said, holding out her hand. “Welcome to the Ostia bureau of the Imperial Press. Won’t you come in and sit down?” She opened the door and stepped in.

  Somewhat surprised, the man slowly entered, following her. “I tried the door before you came and the door was locked.”

  “The office is able to recognize whether someone is allowed to enter. If you think that is strange, as someone told me when I first arrived here, if you stick around you’ll see stranger things. Please sit down and make yourself comfortable, Mr. Popov.” Amanda set the file down on the desk and sat. “I understand you have met Henry Gallagher before.”

  “Yes, both here in this country and in Russia.”

  “You mean in the USA and in Russia.”

  “Excuse me, Miss Ochs, but is this not the ‘heartland’ of America?”

  “Please call me Amanda, Mr. Popov. It may be located in the heartland, but this square mile belongs to the Empire.”

  “Call me Dimitry.” He looked definitely skeptical. “I have heard that claim before, but it is hard to believe that such a thing could happen.”

  “No harder than to believe that the Kremlin might grant such a thing in an unimportant area of Krasnoyarsk, far away from any power or influence?”

  “Unimportant? But this is a major city.”

  “Dimitry, in 1968, when the Republicans had their convention here, all the big shots from the East and West Coasts were surprised to find that running water and indoor plumbing were available, and that Indian raids and gun-fights in the street weren’t. I was raised in New York City and let me tell you, as far as they’re concerned back there, there isn’t anything important out here in ‘fly-over’ country. However, we’re definitely getting off the subject. Henry Gallagher thought that you would make a good IP bureau chief in Moscow. As I understand it, you are here to look around and ask questions and see whether you’d be interested in that position.”

  He smiled. “And also, I would think, to be looked at and asked questions?”

  “Yes, there is that, too,” she said as she returned the smile. “Do you have any questions to begin with?”

  “A statement, first. I am a Russian, I refuse to do anything that would harm my country.”

  Amanda looked at him quietly for a moment. “Has anyone asked you to do such a thing?”

  “No, but ...”

  “Dimitry, it would be wise for you to look around with an open mind while you are here. If you go around with your mind already made up, you could very well insult someone.” He looked at her with a questioning expression on his face. “Some months ago, a reporter decided that I was the consul’s mistress. The reporter was expelled from the empire, rather roughly, for accusing the consul of a capital crime, without even knowing he’d done such a thing. I found out this place is ‘different’ from other societies. It would be prudent to see what’s going on first, before making decisions.”

  Dimitry looked rather thoughtful. “Then you are the author of those articles about the empire, the ones that describe so many amazing things?” At her nod, he went on. “I will take your advice, then, and observe, although I must admit, many of the things you wrote about are hard to believe.”

  “They’re hard for anyo
ne to believe, which is why you’re here to see and experience them. Now, did Henry tell you what the Imperial Press is all about?”

  “He told me what your hopes and dreams are. Do you need to be told how difficult it will be to accomplish them?”

  Amanda laughed and said, “Henry and I decided that it would be impossible to accomplish them. However, when you’ve had a chance to look around, as we have, and see lots of impossibles happening, well, we just got a little goofy and decided to try it. Now, before we leave for a guided tour of Ostia, do you have any objections to having lunch with the Russian Attaché to the empire?”

  “No objections, but may I ask why such a meeting is suggested, Amanda?”

  “Mostly because if they have objections to your employment, you should hear about it sooner rather than later.”

  They left the IP office and Amanda pointed out the government buildings on the Via Publica – the Public Post at the end of the street, Agriculture across the street from Commerce, next the Urban Praetor’s across the street from Foreign, then the Treasury (though they popped in briefly for a quick glance at the money pit) across from the Imperial Bank, then the Imperial Chapel and the Hospital across the street from the sprawling Marine building. She led him past the crossroads into the Via Schola, still pointing out the important public buildings – the huge Imperial Theater across from the Fleet building, then the Palatine (art, theater, music) across from the Quirinal (practical training), next the Viminal (physics, chemistry, other ‘hard’ sciences) across from the Esquiline (liberal arts), then the Aventine (practical sciences) across from the Caelian (medicine), and finally the Capitoline (law, government, computers) at the end of the street. Then they returned to the crossroads and headed down the Via Emporia.

  Amanda was heartened by the searching questions that Dimitry asked as they walked – it was clear that not only was he intelligent, but also knew the right questions to ask. She answered those she could, but there were some questions she couldn’t answer, and some questions she’d never thought of asking.