“Where is General Ollwelen?” the Minister of Health asked.
“He is,” Lavager hesitated for just an instant but that hesitation spoke volumes to the cabinet ministers sitting around the table, “no longer with us. General Ollius has replaced him.”
“That’s truly shocking!” someone remarked. “I mean that General Ollwelen is—is—” The minister nodded apologetically at General Ollius.
“Yes, but no surprise,” Lavager responded quickly. “As you can see from the report Mr. Goumeray has given you, General Ollwelen was with me during the ambush. I have every reason to believe he knew of the attacks. He fled while we were defending ourselves in a cornfield. For all any of us know, he perished there in the fire though we haven’t found a body today. Now, General Ollius, give us the details of the war plan.”
Ollius stood. “This is called Operation Sea Lion. It will be a combined air, land, and sea attack against the major cities and agricultural facilities of South Solanum. H Hour is oh-four hundred our time tomorrow, oh-seven hundred when the first targets, the enemy’s military installations, will be struck by satellite weapons. Our forces are maneuvering into position even as I speak.” The room had gone completely silent. “This will be followed up with coordinated attacks by combined forces, which will complete the destruction of South Solanum’s defensive capabilities, and culminate with the occupation of their capital and the seizure and arrest of their government officials.” As he spoke, graphic images of maps and troop movements flashed across the large screen at one end of the room.
“Is there no chance for a negotiated settlement?” Minister of Education Uhura Lunguna asked. He was fairly new in his job. He looked plaintively around the table. Some of the ministers shrugged, others refused to look at him. When Jorge Lavager said something was to be done, it was a decree, not up for a vote.
“No, Mr. Lunguna,” the Foreign Minister answered at once, casting a sideward glance at Lavager.
“They launched a vicious and unprovoked attack against us, against the person of our leading citizen, and we shall deal with them in the same manner.”
“Sir,” Education Minister Lunguna addressed himself directly to Lavager, “we are going to war, just like that?”
“You weren’t with me this morning,” Lavager responded drily.
“But, sir, this report,” he held up the Information Minister’s press release, “doesn’t even present any strong evidence that the South Solanians were responsible for the attacks! How do we know it was them? We are going to be asked that by everyone.”
“Tell them we have the confession of someone who was in on the attack, Mr. Lunguna. The identity of that source is confidential, that’s why his name is not mentioned.”
Lunguna looked again for support from the other officials at the table. None was forthcoming, so he stood. “Sir,” he bowed slightly toward Lavager, “I am an educator. I explain, I enlighten, I direct attention toward facts, and when I cannot do that, I am honest about it and let people form their own opinions. On the basis of the very slim facts you have presented, I have formed my own opinion about what you are proposing.”
“And that is?”
“This is an unjustified war of aggression that will lead only to tragedy for all concerned.” He paused and took a breath. “I hereby resign my post in your government—a government I cannot support under the present circumstances.” He turned to leave, but stopped when Lavager held up a hand and pointed at the minister’s chair. Lunguna sat down heavily. Lavager didn’t reply for a long moment. “Your resignation is accepted without prejudice, Mr. Lunguna,”
he said at last. “I deeply regret your decision to resign. You are an excellent educator and the children of Atlas could benefit from your talents. No, I did not misspeak. What we are doing out at Spondu will have far-reaching effects on our world, and in due course I will unite all the governments of Atlas under one, and you will have a place in that government, Mr. Lunguna, if you should change your mind.”
Lunguna stared at Lavager in disbelief. He felt sick at the thought that what Lavager had just said announced his megalomania. The devastating thought flashed through his mind that perhaps the attacks on the President and the Cabbage Patch that morning had been conducted by patriots, not enemies. Worse, nobody else in the room seemed aware of that possibility.
“I appreciate your honesty and moral courage,” Lavager continued. “If anyone else in this cabinet wishes to withdraw from my government, now is the time to do it.” He looked at the other ministers, but none said anything. “General Ollius, the attack shall begin on my command and only on my command. Marshall the forces and have them ready.
“Gentlemen, thank you very much for your support in this time of crisis. I have one more announcement to make and we are done here.” Lavager paused and produced an Anniversario. He clipped it expertly and lit the cigar. When the tip glowed red he smiled affably at his cabinet ministers. “All of you except General Ollius are confined to this room, without communications with the outside world, until the attack is underway.”
At first there was disbelieving silence and then all the ministers began shouting at once. Lavager held up his arms for silence and eventually it was restored. “Just a precaution, gentlemen, just a precaution. No one here is under suspicion. You will be accommodated very comfortably while you’re here. At oh-seven hundred tomorrow you will be allowed to leave, none the worse for a night spent at the office, I assure you.”
“Jorge!” It was the Minister of the Interior. “I want a bottle of bourbon and a deck of cards! If you’re going to confine us here until tomorrow morning, I want to get old Henri there into a game of poker and steal some of that money he’s been lifting out of the treasury!” Henri Parrot was Lavager’s minister of finance and no more honest official ever lived, but he was a notorious poker player. Lavager just nodded and made his way to the door. Lunguna caught up to him.
“Jorge, please, just one more word?” Lavager paused and nodded. “Do not do this! If unification of the nation-states of Atlas is your goal, you do not have to do it by war! Please, aggressive wars always end tragically. Do not inflict this on our people!” He looked imploringly into Lavager’s face. “I’m begging you to listen to me!”
Lavager sighed. “What we’re going to do to South Solanum tomorrow is not aggressive war. I am punishing those people for what they did here, this morning, pure and simple. I will unite the nations of this world, but not by force. This morning’s attack was designed to thwart the unification plan. What we’re doing out at Spondu will definitely change the balance of power in this world and some people don’t want that to happen. But it will, and soon.”
Lunguna’s shoulders drooped. “A super weapon,” he sighed.
“ ‘Super’? Yes; a weapon? Yes, a ‘weapon’ of sorts.” Lavager laid a hand on Lunguna’s shoulder. “Let people think what they may, you’ll see the results of my plan soon enough. Now, have something to eat, get some rest. It’s a long time until tomorrow, and for me, I need refreshment and rest as well.” Lavager smiled and, accompanied by his security detail, left the room. Annie Hall, the
Presidential Retreat, Outside New Granum
Lavager arrived at Annie Hall, the Presidential Retreat in the mountains outside New Granum, before noon. He introduced Gina to Candace, excused himself, and went to bed. The two young women became friends at once. Candace possessed a sophisticated outlook on politics and government that was complemented by Gina’s experience of life on a farm among working people. Gina also had an intimate knowledge of the forests, plants, and animals native to Margelan that Candace found fascinating. They sat in Candace’s room, listening to music and talking.
“Is that Barrabas Monk and the Abbots?” Gina asked, “I just adore them!”
“Yes!” Candace turned up the volume and the music filled the room. “Father just detests them.” She laughed and added, “He just likes the old stuff.” The two rocked to the rhythm as the music blared from Candace’s
sound system.
For a few minutes, Candace watched Gina, who seemed happy and unconcerned, then asked, “How can you be so—so—?” she began, then faltered. “I mean, after what happened at your farm, you just seem—”
“To be taking it so well?” Gina finished the sentence. “I put it in the back of my mind, Candie. I’m good at doing that, you know? My parents used to get on me all the time about my wandering in the woods, so when Mother or Father—,” now she faltered, but quickly pulled herself together and continued, “—when Mother or Father would get on me about wandering off from my chores I’d just concentrate on the chores, and when I was alone in the forest I’d concentrate on the trees.” She laughed. “So now I concentrate on you and what we’re doing right now, and that way I can almost forget about what . . . what happened. Besides, your father promised me he’d make the bastards who did that pay, and I trust your father. Everyone does. Your own mother was assassinated. You must know what I’m talking about.”
“I was very young, Gina.” Candace didn’t speak for a moment. Then, to get away from such depressing talk, asked, “So what will you do now?”
Gina shrugged. “Run the farm. I know all about the machines my father and his hands worked. I know the planting cycles, all about fertilizer and how to breed farm animals. I turned on the water that saved your father and his friends,” she added proudly. “I’ll hire people to help me and eventually I’ll get married.” She laughed again. Gina had a pleasant laugh that made Candace feel good to hear. “And how about you, Candie, what will you do with the rest of your life?”
“Oh, I’m going to university somewhere. Somewhere offworld, father says. Have you ever been off-world, Gina?”
“No, but I’d like to go! I’d love to see Earth. My father was there once when he was young, and he told us all about the place.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice—I mean if we could go to university together? I’d love to have someone I like along, to be my friend and help me study. Don’t you want a university education? Father could arrange it, I’m sure,” Candace’s cheeks flushed with excitement at the thought of her and Gina going off to college on another world.
“I don’t know, Candie, I guess I was born to be a farmer.” She shrugged. “I never thought much about it. My parents wanted to send me to agriculture college here on Atlas. But you know, I might like to be a forest ranger. Can your dad arrange that for me?”
There was a knock at the door and when they turned, Lavagar stood there. “I sure can,” he said. His voice boomed through the music, which Candace quickly turned down. Her father frowned theatrically and then grinned. “But right now, how about something to eat?” He stood there, rested, changed, looking fresh and eager. “We’ll have dinner at Ramuncho’s. How about it, ladies? My treat. I hear he’s got fresh dalmans.”
Candace blanched at the suggestion and struggled to find words. “Father, do you think you should go out? After what’s happened, I mean.” Gina caught the note of anxiety in Candace’s voice. She’d stood up out of respect for Lavager, but he motioned her to be seated.
“Sure. Lightning never strikes in the same place twice. Come on, ladies, be my dates for the evening!”
“Daddy!” Candace sounded desperate to Gina, who was embarrassed to witness what seemed to be developing into a family feud, but she certainly understood how Candace felt. A small knot of fear began forming in the pit of Gina’s stomach. “We can have the cook prepare a nice meal right here at home!”
Candace said. “Father, please, let’s stay home tonight.”
Lavager came into the room, took some of his daughter’s discarded clothing off a chair, and sat down carefully. “You never could keep a neat room.” He smiled wryly at Gina. “Ladies,” he began, “I want to tell you something, so listen carefully. As the head of state, I have an obligation to our people to always be before them, to set an example, the example I wish everyone to follow. That duty always trumps personal convenience. The people expect me to lead them and you don’t lead from inside a bunker! So I am not going to hide here on this mountaintop. This is my country and I will not let fear make a prisoner of me in my own land. What kind of a man would I be to do that?”
The two young women were silent; what could they say in response? Candace was desperately afraid that sooner or later she’d lose her father and she was ashamed because she knew that fear was based on selfishness. Still, Lavager was her father, how else could she feel? Gina knew nothing about politics or military affairs, but she had been brought up to believe that when work had to be done, it simply had to be done. Lavager was just telling her what her own father had said using similar words when the weather was bad and there was work to be done on the farm. She put her arm around Candace.
“So what do you say, ladies? A night out on the town with me?”
Candace nodded reluctantly. If something were to happen to her father, she wanted to be there. She’d remain alert too. Maybe she couldn’t prevent something from happening but she would be there, at his side.
“I’d be happy to go with you, sir,” Gina said. Lavager smiled and got to his feet. “Tell you what, Candie, I’ll even take security with me. While Franklin’s recovering, my new chief of security is a man you can call Lee. You’ll like him.” He held out his hand and helped both girls to their feet. “Bring Roland too,” he said to Gina, putting an arm around her waist and guiding her to the door. “Ramuncho can put him up in the kitchen.”
Outside, two security guards made to enter Lavager’s landcar. “No,” he told them, “you ride with Lanners, I’m driving this crate myself. Get in, ladies!” They started off at great speed down the twisting one-lane road that was the only way up to Annie Hall. Two-way traffic was not permitted and guards stationed along the way saw to it that no intruders were allowed up the mountain. Lavager, who knew the road by heart, took the curves at eighty kilometers per hour.
“Daddy, slow down!” Candace shouted.
“I’ll slow down when I’m dead!” he shouted back over the wind rushing through the open windows and laughed. Behind them the security men were having a tough time keeping up with him. He laughed again and, steering with one hand, jammed a Davidoff into his mouth. But he did slow down when he realized his driving really was frightening his young companions. “It’s really fun taking this road after you’ve had a few liters of beer,” he said, lighting the cigar.
“Father,” Candace leaned toward Lavager to be heard over the roar of the wind, “the news is full of what happened yesterday. They’re saying there’s going to be another war.”
“Ah, there are always rumors of war. Don’t listen to what you hear about that. See, Gina, what a worrywart my Candace is?”
“But Father—!”
Lavager pulled the vehicle into a turnaround and slammed on the brakes. Dust billowed up around the vehicle, filtering the afternoon sun flooding the interior of the vehicle with warm, golden light. The view of the valley below was breathtaking at this altitude.
“Father, we’re sitting targets from below! What if—?”
“I’m always in someone’s sights,” Lavager grunted. He turned to face both girls and jabbed his cigar at them. “There’s not going to be a war. But I am going to punish the people who killed Gina’s family and attacked the Cabbage Patch.” His voice had grown hard and Gina could see clearly the deadly expression that had come over Lavager’s face and into his eyes. “I’m going to punish them so badly they will never think of doing anything like that again. And once I’m through with those people, I’m going to kick every goddamned politician’s ass on Atlas. And I don’t need a war to do that. You’ll see.”
But before they reached Ramuncho’s, Lavager gave in to Leelanu Lanners’s entreaties and made a stop at the formal Presidential Residence in the city to join up with a strong security detail.
The Presidential Residence, New Granum
They saw immediately that President Lavager was in. A limousine with the presidential seal on its door
and a small presidential flag on its bumper was parked in front of the main entrance. And a full company of soldiers in battle gear was arrayed in front of the house. Gossner and Dwan couldn’t tell from where they stood in the midst of a gaggle of tourists gawking at the building, but they suspected at least two hundred soldiers were tightly surrounding the building. They were casual about looking around in imitation of the rubbernecking tourists, and spotted almost a dozen firing positions on top of and inside nearby buildings. Some of the firing positions had sniper teams, but at least two had assault guns.
Activity at the entrance of the residence drew their attention. A hard-looking man with a bandaged arm held in a sling came out and softly shut the door behind him. An officer, probably the commander of the troops surrounding the residence, marched up to him. The two conferred briefly, then the hard-looking man went back inside. He moved stiffly, as if he was in some pain.
“That was him,” someone whispered excitedly near Gossner and Dwan, “Franklin al-Rashid!”
“The head of the President’s security?” someone else asked. “Wasn’t he injured in the ambush?”
“Yes,” a frightened whisper.
“But he seems better now!” an excited squeal. The officer called the troops in front of the residence into formation and marched them around the side of the building. After a moment there was the sound of landcar motors starting up. Soon, several small troop carriers drove out from behind the residence and took positions in the streets around it. Gossner took Dwan’s hand and drew her away. When they reached a safe enough distance that he couldn’t be overheard, he said, “I think the target is about to go somewhere.”
That was confirmed a moment later when President Lavager came out of the front door. Two teenage girls were with him. So was Franklin al-Rashid. The security chief looked distinctly unhappy about something.
Backshot Page 27