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AmerIndian 2192

Page 31

by J. Scott Garibay

CHAPTER 31

  Lige made his way into the large austere office of President Sullivan. He dragged the disheveled and bound form of an old man. Jaret strode silently behind Admiral Lige, his hand resting casually on his katana. Lige kicked the old man forward onto the floor before the President and his advisors.

  The old man was bleeding and unclean. The advisors were not used to the sight of blood and it unnerved them. Lige bowed deeply to the five figures in the room. Jaret mirrored him.

  President Sullivan looked both worried and relieved to see Lige. The president's two consuls looked perturbed. Grand Admiral Ramus' mouth was open, shock showing plainly on his face. Lige was supposed to be thousands of galaxies away, dead. The last of the five was a thin man dressed in what appeared to be dark clergy garb of an indeterminable religion. Lige gave him a quick glance and then addressed the group.

  “I am here to claim what has been denied me for far too long; control of the entire UDA Navy. By now you have read my objections to the Naanac Response and should understand why I chose to disobey a direct order from Grand Admiral Ramus.”

  Ramus stammered. “The end does not justify the means. You are court marshaled and stripped of -”

  President Sullivan waved his hand casually at Ramus. Ramus stopped talking abruptly. “You’ve played the game long enough, Ramus, to know the end always justifies the means. Who is this bloodied man, Lige?”

  The thin man in the dark robes sat forward eager to hear Lige's reply. Lige gave the bound man a quick hard kick. “While Ramus sent one hundred and sixty thousand UDA soldiers to their death, I used my time a bit more productively. This is AC Founder Potlatch Weaver.” Lige said no more.

  The advisors looked at each other. Each man waited for the others to explain to Lige that this disheveled sack of human could not possibly be Potlatch Weaver.

  “Potlatch Weaver has been dead for thirteen years, fool.” Ramus spat.

  Lige shook visibly, anger boiling over. “Against my advisement you have lost one hundred and sixty thousand UDA soldiers, handing fourteen hundred prime ships in perfect condition to the AC. For that alone I am contemplating beating you to death with my bare hands right here and now. You should refrain from referring to me as anything but your replacement. The DNA tests that this is Potlatch Weaver are conclusive, but irrelevant.” Lige pulled the old man's head up by his hair. President Sullivan and the robed man's eyes went wide. They had seen this man's face on vids more time then they could count and both men had met him in person over two decades ago. It was Potlatch Weaver, without question.

  “How?” President Sullivan asked, amazed.

  “The Great Elder was not killed at the White Earth Massacre. Elder John, then chief of the Zuni, faked Weaver’s death at Weaver’s command. Elder John got him off of the lodge ships to the nearest outpost. Weaver could not handle his defeat at my hands. Seems it took all of the spirit to lead out of him. Since the White Earth Massacre he has been playing leap frog, living as a hermit on a dozen different outposts.”

  President Sullivan smiled broadly. “Excellent work Lige, prepare your fleet for -”

  “First things first, President Sullivan. There is the matter of Grand Admiral rank. Let's settle that now.”

  The President paused. He looked at Grand Admiral Ramus. “You are deposed as Grand Admiral and hereby replaced by Lige.”

  Ramus gaped. He had seen this moment coming for more than five years and yet the fact that his career was ended with the uttering of a single sentence was still shocking to him.

  “Take a hint from this defeated enemy,” Lige kicked Weaver again. “Lose yourself on a distant outpost, Ramus, before this day is out or no law will protect you. I will handle this debacle with AC, President Sullivan. Save your orders for the lackeys who need them.”

  With that Lige and Jaret scooped up Weaver and were gone.

  In the founder’s body tank Wovoka clunked up to the outrider ship Celetain had released the Ghost Dance from. It seemed unreal as Wovoka looked out over the crowd. He had struggled for this moment all his life, fought to attain the dream of his father. A week ago, he thought it would be a decade or more before he gained the chiefdom of the Apache. Now he led the AmerIndian Confederacy. Tears of joy, loss and exhaustion rolled down his face.

  Fear of addressing the massive gathered crowd laced his stomach. He settled himself, knowing all he had to do was speak the truth. Over ten thousand tribals peered up at him. He knew his image was being projected to other areas of the planet to be viewed on comp sets. Tribals were crammed together as far as the eye could see and dozens of bon fires and torches lit up their turned faces in a flickering warm light. Fortunately, the drizzling rain hid his tears.

  “Brothers and sisters, I am not a great speaker. My words are not beautiful and inspirational like our founder, Potlatch Weaver, or our Elder Wisdom. But today beautiful words are not needed. Only the truth. I will not thank you for sacrificing for the AmerIndian Confederacy because you did not do it for me. We, together, did it for the AmerIndian Confederacy. We fought for over two decades and carved out a new and ancient way of living. We can now return to the lives of beauty and balance our forefathers showed us. This is now our planet, our Homeland, paid for in full with blood.

  “Here we will build a place of harmony where we will live in balance with nature, not ignoring and shunning the new ways of technology, but using them in a way that is responsible and balanced. We will enjoy the sweet serenity that only a life of harmony with nature, working with the land, can give. We can continue our spiritual journey as a people. Technology will once again become a tool, not a shackle. There will be struggles. Be prepared. Who will defend this land?” A roar rose from the crowd.

  No one slept that night. There was only rejoicing, dancing, singing and feasting. Outside the Free Mantle thirty lodge ships, 620 AmerIndian Confederacy outrider ships and dozens of manned and hundreds of remote-controlled UDA prime ships guarded the planet.

 

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