Paszek sent a command over the brigade’s secure VR to the communications center.
“It is not safe for you to roam around in Monroe right now in Secret Police uniforms. If the resistance doesn’t shoot you, private citizens might. So we have anonymous coveralls for you to change into to get you home safely. You will also be able to retrieve your weapons. We do not want you to be unable to protect yourselves and your families.
“However, I must warn you. You are now civilians. The new government will not shield you from the consequences of any criminal acts. That includes fomenting any resistance to what is now the legitimate government of Julian, headed by General Turley. If you commit criminal acts now, you will be charged and tried and sentenced for your actions. So I warn you to be careful. We’ve gone to great lengths to protect you from harm today, and it would be a shame, after all that work, to have to hang you.
“If you queue at the food tables, we have bags with the coveralls in them. Just state your size when picking up a bag so we can give you the right one. You may then retrieve your sidearms from the tables at the other side of the room. You can stash your current uniform and your sidearms in the bags and take them with you.”
Paszek waved to a Marine at the wall-mounted controls, and the movable partition walls started sliding back into their recess.
“Outside we have buses to take you home. We will not take you back to the Security Ministry because the building was destroyed in today’s operations. You have likely lost whatever personal effects you had there. The buses will instead take you to your neighborhoods and drop you off close to home. There is a colored map of the city in the front windscreen of each bus, with its destination area of the city colored green. Please select the correct bus.
“Do not try anything stupid. I recommend you not do anything substantive until you get the lay of the land. Fifteen thousand resistance and regular forces now patrol Monroe, under an active air cover. Today’s actions are not reversible by you or anything you might do, so don’t try it.
“Thank you, gentlemen. This concludes today’s training.”
Paul Gulliver had spent the day staying out of the way as Kersey and Boardman – or, rather, Turley and Gordon – carried out their operations strategy for the active phase of the Julian operation. He had prepared a report to Section Six as the day went on, and transmitted it once the QE link was re-established.
Now Gulliver sat in the first meeting between Turley, Gordon, Jensen, Mark Chapman, and Jarl Gunderson – a.k.a. Jim Madison, the assistant leader of the resistance – since the retirement of James Mieland. The meeting was in VR. Turley and Gordon were still in the ACV, somewhere in Monroe, overseeing the peaceful transition of power, Colonel Jensen was in his command tank down by the Government Center complex overseeing the surrender and relocation of people from the complex, and Gulliver was in the mess hall of the spaceport encampment, where he had spent most of the day watching things unfold in VR. Gulliver didn’t know where Chapman and Gunderson were.
There were introductions and handshakes and the like before settling down to business.
“Have you decided on your cabinet yet, Madam President?” Chapman asked.
“Madam President?” Turley asked.
“Of course,” Chapman said. “As a military person, you know how important rank and titles are to keeping everyone on the same page. That’s why I took the title of Brigadier General, rather than a rank nominally superior to yours, since we needed my troops to be under your command.”
“He’s right, Ma’am,” Jensen said. “You know that.”
“I know. It just sounds weird. I wasn’t expecting this.”
“Maybe not, but it was a smart move on Mieland’s part,” Chapman said. “You’re the outsider, and your judgments are less prone to being dismissed as prejudiced in some way.”
“OK. Back to your question,” Turley said. “Cabinet? Is that our first order of business?”
“For one position, anyway, Madam President,” Chapman said. “You need a Minister of Security, or Police, or whatever you want to call it. We need to have someone in charge of keeping order and enforcing the laws.”
“Minister of Security sounds like a bad choice. Like there’s been no change.”
“What else would you call it?” Jensen asked.
“The problem is the old department’s goal was to secure the government against the citizens,” Gulliver said.
“How about the Ministry of Civilian Security?” Gordon asked. “Guarantees the rights of civilians.”
“Or the Ministry of Citizen Security,” Gulliver said. “Same argument.”
“I like that one,” Chapman said.
“OK, let’s run with that,” Turley said. “Now, who do we put in as minister?”
“Should be a native, I think,” Gulliver said.
Turley looked at Chapman.
“What about you, Mr. Chapman?” she asked. “I would imagine you’re pretty popular right now.”
“Actually, I’m thinking of retiring completely from public life, Madam President. It would be too easy to swap me for Mr. Mieland. Too tempting, too, for that matter. I didn’t do all this work just to repeat the same mistake. And as the leader of the resistance, I have a golden reputation right now. Anything I did in public office could only tarnish it.”
Turley laughed.
“I can see that. Who then, Mr. Chapman?”
“I would propose Mr. Gunderson, Ma’am. My assistant in the resistance. His acceptance would be as high, but it gives him a chance to step up. He is most capable.”
Gunderson looked a little stunned by this suggestion. Turley turned to him.
“Mr. Gunderson?”
“Yes, Madam President. I had not given much thought to a time after Mieland, but, if Mark thinks I’m up to it, then I’m in.”
“Very good,” Turley said.
“The next question, Ma’am, is who’s the commandant of police?” Chapman asked. “His executive officer?”
“You’ve been leading the discussion, Mr. Chapman,” Turley said. “I assume you have someone in mind.”
“Yes, Ma’am. Colonel Jensen. Give him the rank, within the Julian hierarchy, of Brigadier General, and make him Commandant of Police for the interim government.”
“I assume your consideration is something like the argument for me as president. Even-handedness.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Turley turned to Jensen.
“Colonel? What say you?”
“As long as it’s just for the interim government, Ma’am. I could do that.”
“Very well. Now, Mr. Chapman, what else needs doing tonight.”
“Just one more thing right now, Madam President. Enforce only those laws for which there is harm to another citizen. We have a whole lot of laws on the books that were there to control citizens’ actions, even though they weren’t hurting anyone. I think we should put all those laws in abeyance until you can appoint a Justice Minister to go through the laws and weed out all the nonsense.”
“Makes sense to me,” Turley said. “We’re going to have our hands full just with that, I would think. Mr. Gunderson?”
Gunderson looked to Jensen, and Jensen nodded.
“That makes sense to me, too, Ma’am,” Gunderson said. “How do we handle this for the public? Do you make the announcement?”
“I’ll make the announcement of your appointment as Minister of Citizen Security, and then you can announce that the only laws being enforced in the interim are the ones which protect one citizen from being harmed by another. Get working on your popularity right off the bat. How about that?”
“Works for me, Ma’am.”
“OK. Let’s leave it there for the moment, everyone. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”
One would think there might be a huge celebration of the end of the Mieland regime in Monroe, but the initial reaction of the citizenry was subdued. They had been too long disappointed in the government they themselves had ins
talled. The mood, rather than one of jubilation, was one of a thin layer of hope over their hard-earned pessimism.
Some bars stayed open past legal hours that night, and there was no police response to enforce dram shop laws. Instead, patrolling Marines and resistance members who were now responsible for civil order stopped in to check that everything was going OK, and to make sure the proprietors knew the former Secret Police emergency mail address was still the address to call if they needed a police response for a fight or other disorder. That VR address had been rerouted to Turley’s communications center.
Turley herself spent the evening studying the structure of the former government of Julian, and the biographies of its current cabinet ministers. There was supposed to be an elected parliament, the Council. What had happened to that? Here it was. Disbanded by Mieland five years ago when he suspended the scheduled elections.
She was feeling a little overwhelmed when she finally went to bed.
The Emperor and Empress were at breakfast in the dining room of the Imperial Residence on the top floor of the Imperial Palace.
“I see General Turley has been made the interim president of Julian. And General Vargas in Verona as well,” Peters said.
“Smart move,” Dunham said. “Outsiders. Probably heroes at this point. And they have no desire for civil power. It’s not their planet and it’s not how they’re wired.”
“I think so as well. I wouldn’t wonder if they’re feeling just a bit overwhelmed, however.”
“You can’t interfere,” Dunham said.
“No. Of course not. I just thought I might make a phone call or two this afternoon.”
Peters eyes twinkled.
Turley had just finished breakfast when she received a VR meeting request under an Imperial header. She checked the time in Imperial City. They were six hours ahead of Monroe at the moment. Two in the afternoon.
Turley took the meeting request and found herself in the small meeting room in which she and the Empress had met before. The grey-haired Empress, her avatar in an expensive and well-tailored business suit, sat on the other side of the small conference table.
“Yes, Milady Empress,” Turley said.
The Empress stood and waved to the chair opposite her.
“Please have a seat, Madam President.”
Turley’s eyebrows rose when the Empress stood, but she sat, and the Empress sat back down. The Empress addressed her apparent surprise.
“You are a head of state, Madam President, and I am not. The courtesies are different.”
“I see, Milady.”
“Madam President. I can’t help but think you were a little blindsided by your appointment as head of state for Julian, and find yourself just a little overwhelmed.”
“That’s an insightful read of the situation, Milady.”
“Not at all, Madam President. It’s only natural. I think it was a wise move, for all the reasons you’ve likely already been given. You probably agree, as you accepted the title. But still, it must seem a bit much.”
“As you say, Milady.”
Peters nodded. Exactly as she had thought, then.
“Now, Madam President, I have never been a head of state, but I have been a keen observer of one for the past fifty years and more. I would offer some advice, if you were of a mind.”
“I would appreciate it, Milady. Any help is welcome.”
“Very well, Madam President. Some major points, then.
“First, the rule of law is important. Anything that was done unlawfully by the immediate past president must be undone. Laws, taxes, and rules imposed by mere fiat must be declared unlawful and stricken from the books. Anything not done within the process specified in the constitution quo ante must be undone.
“The second is the inverse of the first. Reinstate the institutions that existed prior to the immediate past president. Anything he tore down, build back up. The citizens have inherent and pre-existing faith in those institutions, so you are not starting from ground zero.
“Third, the head of state’s most important function is as a personnel manager. Put the right people in place. If you find you were wrong, fire them and try again. Only the most important and difficult decisions should come to the head of state. Refuse to allow your ministers to make you do their jobs.
“Fourth, and in that same vein, do not assign responsibility without delegating authority. You are an experienced military commander, so you already know that one, along with the next.
“Fifth, never give an order you know won’t be obeyed.
“Sixth, have government officers and police swear oath to the written constitution, much as you swore oath to the Throne. Most people take oaths seriously, and you want the focus where it belongs.
“Finally, move for new elections as soon as you can. I would think three or four months would be long enough for campaigning and the like in a colony of that size.”
“I think that’s all very good advice, Milady.”
“Perhaps. Nevertheless, it is your decision whether or not to take any of it. As head of state, you should substitute no one’s judgment for your own.
“And I will add one thing you may not have thought of, Madam President. You have direct access to the most experienced and successful head of state in human space. If you need advice, you may always contact the Emperor.”
“The Emperor has over four hundred thousand planets to worry about, Milady. I wouldn’t want to trouble him over the concerns of one small colony.”
“He also has thousands of competent managers in place who handle all but the most difficult questions, Madam President. Trust me when I say he is there for you, if you need advice.”
“Thank you, Milady.”
“I will let you go now, Madam President. I’m sure you have a thousand things on your mind right now, and I appreciate you taking this meeting. Be in touch.”
Turley bowed her head, and the Empress cut the connection.
Turley went back to her study of the Julian government. She was now sorting what she saw into three categories: that which had not existed before, but now did; that which had existed before, but no longer did; and that which had existed before, and remained.
Her treatment of each would be different.
Justice
Turley knew that, in any system of laws, you enacted the law, then you administered the law, then you enforced the law. Necessarily, she had had to deal with the enforcement first, because she had to ensure public safety. She continued to work the list backwards, moving on to the administration of the law: the courts, the prosecutors, the prison.
The prison had to be next. For the time being, her forces had taken over all Secret Police roles, including running the prison. The regime had imprisoned dissidents and detractors, and that needed to be corrected, but how did you tell the political prisoners from the criminals? She couldn’t just release everybody. A decision had to be made for each and every prisoner. That had to be delegated.
Turley logged a meeting request with Chapman. He met her in a VR simulation of a conference room.
“Yes, Madam President.”
“Mr. Chapman, I need a Justice Minister. Who do you suggest?”
“Ma’am, I want no position in the government.”
“I wasn’t offering it to you, Mr. Chapman.”
“No, Ma’am. But you keep asking my opinion.”
“I need your opinion, Mr. Chapman.”
“But I want no decision-making position.”
“How about Presidential Adviser, then, Mr. Chapman? I need your opinion, and I will need it again and again. But you don’t make the decisions, I do.”
Chapman was silent, trying to think of how to turn her down. How to say ‘No’ yet again.
“Please, Mr. Chapman. Your planet needs you. Again.”
That was hitting below the belt. Chapman sighed.
“Yes, Madam President. That I can do.”
“Excellent. Now, Mr. Adviser, who do you suggest as Justic
e Minister?”
“I think someone who was a judge before Mieland, Ma’am. Probably someone who got in trouble for resisting the Mieland regime.”
“Maybe best would be someone imprisoned for resisting the Mieland regime, Mr. Chapman. They would have instant credibility in administering justice. Especially implementing a policy of reconciliation.”
“Yes, Ma’am. If they were lenient to lower-level regime members, they would be beyond criticism. Let me look into it.”
“Work with General Jensen, Mr. Chapman. I think he has the communications center people breaking into the Secret Police computer records right now.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
The Secret Police computers had been in the now-destroyed Security Ministry building, but they had been backed up in the Executive Building, which was intact. They were encrypted, but battle management computers – given all the processing to be done with surveillance feeds, targeting, guidance, mapping, geolocation and tracking of all the forces on the battlefield, and multi-level displays in VR – were of necessity powerful.
Not wanting to be caught short of computing power, one container Turley’s team had ordered brought along was a self-contained Imperial Marines battle management computer suitable for division-sized operations. Jensen had had this high-speed computer pounding on the decryption problem all night.
When Chapman asked Jensen about the Secret Police files, Jensen had a double for him.
“Yes, we have the Secret Police files you want, Mr. Chapman. The prison files. Those we have. We also have the Justice Ministry’s public files on charges and convictions.”
“Excellent, General Jensen. Thank you very much.”
“No problem. When we get the rest of the Secret Police files decrypted, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks.”
Chapman looked through the prison files. Wait. This couldn’t be right. There were fifteen thousand people in prison in a colony population of ten million? Oh, that was all the people who had been in and out of prison over the last ten years. There were ten thousand people still in prison right now.
EMPIRE: Intervention (EMPIRE SERIES Book 13) Page 16