War of the Rosette

by M D Cooper

  “You have no reason to trust me,” Pharis continued. “I hear your skepticism, and Terry’s word alone won’t sway you. Nor should it. Trust should be earned, and I intend to do that. But every relationship has a starting point, and I hope this can be ours.

  “I came here today because I wanted to put faces and names to my people. Governance has been warped into a bizarre affair conducted from afar, where leaders have a bad tendency to think in terms of statistics, rather than individuals with full lives of their own. My first promise to you is that I value your autonomy and wishes. I hope you will support me as your leader because you choose it, not just because it is expected.

  “I’ll make an assertion that I’m certain wouldn’t be popular among many other houses. I think that everyone should have a say in who they have as a leader. The High Table’s form of governance went out of fashion thousands of years ago before humanity’s Golden Age, well before humans took to the stars. I suppose it’s no wonder that we’re again stagnating in our system, isolated from the rest of our people. I say it’s high time we recapture the spirit of our ancestors and seek opportunities to progress. What kind of life is it to look forward to when all we can expect is the same old ways, generation after generation?

  “Thinking this way is heresy under the current system. Speaking it is even worse. You probably think that me saying these things now is some sort of trap, or a test.”

  Pharis let out a little laugh when most of the crowd grumbled that it must be. “I assure you, I’d suffer a fate far worse than you if my mother knew I was saying these things, and especially that I believed them down to the core of my being. I’ve played along as the dutiful daughter and scion because I saw that as my opportunity to make the most difference. But I can’t bring about that kind of change alone. To sway my mother and the other house leaders, the people must demand it.”

  She passed her gaze over the crowd, making eye contact with as many people as she could. “I am here today to make a personal appeal. Stand up and make your voice heard. It’s a scary step, I know—even terrifying. But the leaders are content with the way things are. I can yell at them until I’m blue in the face, yet I’m still only one voice. Only the collective whole is powerful enough to cut through the walls of the manors and echo throughout. Not just you, but all of Gallas, and the rest of Serenity. Everyone who’s ever felt the sharp sting of injustice needs to rise up and make it clear that you won’t stand for things to continue as they are. You aren’t a statistic in a corporate balance sheet, you’re a person with friends and loved ones, and you want—you deserve—to control your own path in life.”

  The crowd began murmuring again with a mixture of excitement and dismissal.

  Terry didn’t blame them for being skeptical. She was dubious herself, but the fact that Pharis was here right now spoke to her resolve. Whatever rebellious streak had influenced Cyrus seemed to be alive and well in her, too. She just needed a little more to push the crowd to her side.

  In an even better gesture than Terry could have imagined, the scion smiled at the sea of faces once more. “My name is Pharis, and I’d like to do everything in my power to give you a future where you will always have a voice in what happens in your life.”

  She walked over to one of the women who’d spoken up earlier in the meeting. “What’s your name?” Pharis asked her.

  “Um, Rita, my lady,” the woman replied.

  “Rita, thank you for being here today. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Pharis removed her glove and extended her hand for a handshake.

  Rita stared at the offered hand, hesitating at the offer that was so different from cultural norms. Pharis gave her an encouraging nod. At last, Rita gingerly took Pharis’s hand and pumped it.

  The scion smiled. “Now we’ve been properly introduced.” She turned to the man sitting next to Rita. “And you are?”

  She offered her hand in greeting to everyone at the table, and then moved on to the next. By the time she’d completed three tables, people had started elbowing their way from the back of the room to get their turn, and some individuals were beginning to make comments about their political opinions during their brief exchange with Pharis.

  Cyrus smiled over at Terry. “She’s doing it.”

  “Now we can begin to turn that energy into a revolution.”

  SO IT BEGINS

  STELLAR DATE: 12.23.8938 (Adjusted Years)

  LOCATION: Charlemis Estate Port, Gallas, Serenity System

  REGION: Orion Freedom Alliance, Perseus Arm

  With Pharis now serving as a face for the ambitions—and with the right pedigree to back it up—the people were hungry for more.

  “You warmed them up,” Cyrus whispered to Terry.

  “I doubt the history books will give me any credit.”

  “Maybe not, but I will.” He wrapped his arm around her as they surveyed the people eagerly lining up to shake Pharis’s hand.

  “You had no small part.”

  “Neither of us are close to finished.”

  “No,” she agreed. “Are you ready?”

  “More time to prepare would be better, but I don’t think we’ll have another opportunity like this if Mother is already cracking down. Best we start making too much noise for her to shut it down.”

  Terry nodded. “Take advantage of the passion and build on the momentum.”

  “Precisely.” Cyrus took her hand and led the way through the crowd until they were next to Pharis.

  “This might be our only chance,” he said in a hushed voice to his sister. “Now is the time to take a stand.”

  Pharis nodded her understanding.

  The three of them had discussed scenarios for how to best channel the workers’ enthusiasm for change into a tool for a larger political movement, and they’d agreed upon a strategy to enact if they found themselves in this situation.

  The scion held her right hand up in the air to bid for silence. The crowd complied.

  “I haven’t been able to meet all of you yet, but I have felt the passion in each person I’ve had the privilege to meet so far. Your eyes have been opened to the possibilities, and I want to turn those into reality. What I must ask of you now requires a leap of faith. I must ask for you to walk away from your posts and take to the streets. Spread this message we have discussed here today, and rally your fellow workers to follow your example.

  “This is an ember that can be fanned into a powerful blaze. Remember, you aren’t alone in your feelings. Voice that change is possible, and others will rally to the cause. Spread the message. Together, we can do what others thought would be impossible. Are you with me?”

  Cheers sounded around the room.

  Terry grinned before she spoke up. “The only way the higher-ups will listen is if everyone they count on stops taking orders. No more work until they are willing to come to the negotiating table. Let’s remind them how important we really are.”

  “Yeah!” several people shouted as soon as she finished.

  Other excited shouts soon joined the chorus, and people began flooding out of the room to spread the word to those off-shift.

  “I suspect things are about to start moving quickly,” Terry said to Cyrus.

  “Yes, I think you’re right. At least, we can hope so. I should probably alert Roger.”

  “We need to shut down the ports to make a wave.”

  Cyrus nodded. “In the meantime, we’ll do everything we can to ensure the word spreads.”

  * * * * *

  Cyrus was cautious about getting too excited over small victories. He’d seen his share of politicking from the inside, and he knew better than to count on anyone to follow through with their promises, no matter how excited they seemed.

  He was pleased to see Terry’s former coworkers eager to take action, but the number of port workers only totaled in the hundreds. While it looked like a good number from certain angles, the group was small enough that it could easily be silenced.

  There was no doub
t in his mind that his mother wouldn’t like having workers rally, demanding a better quality of life. It was probably among her worst nightmares. More likely than not, she’d been worried about Pharis’s intentions, and had sent the guards to head her off. He wasn’t sure what their mother might do to Pharis, but the current scion’s political future, if nothing else, would be in jeopardy if Justina couldn’t be persuaded that this change was for the better.

  Still, there was a possibility that the movement would fizzle out before it got its legs under it. He’d been disappointed by the lukewarm reaction when they’d pitched the idea of a revolution to their port contacts. This new show of enthusiasm could be fleeting. Or, perhaps they really had been convinced this time. But how strong their conviction was would soon be put to the test.

  Following Terry’s lead, Cyrus headed for the port’s exit with her and Pharis.

  “I wonder if I should go back to the manor with the guards,” Pharis mused as she walked. “Mother is clearly suspicious.”

  Cyrus slowed his pace and looked her over. “I don’t want you to be in any danger, but this plan only works if you’re in a position to assume power.”

  She hung her head. “I know. If I step away now, that would be the end of it.”

  “It doesn’t do us any good if she arrests you, either,” Terry said.

  “This is why I was supposed to sneak in here, so no one knew I was involved.”

  “The entire plan is a mess with all of this rushing—not even a proper plan at all.” Cyrus groaned and shook his head. “I’m sick of making up moves as we go.”

  “How can we plan with so many unknowns?” Terry shrugged. “I have to believe that the desire for a better future will lead us in the right direction.”

  Pharis gave her a halfhearted smile. “I can’t get swept up in that idealistic thinking, but your heart is in the right place.”

  “Do you have a better solution? I’ve made it very clear that this kind of endeavor isn’t my strength. I’m a mechanic, for stars’ sake! I’m still confused about how anyone started turning to me for advice.”

  Cyrus smirked. “When you started offering it, and it wasn’t half-bad.”

  “You did have a powerful, ancient AI nominate you,” Pharis added.

  Terry sighed. “Fine. But still, I honestly don’t know where to go from here. My thinking went as far as how to get my friends to give this crazy idea of ours a chance. I can’t offer much from here on out.”

  Cyrus was used to her being humble and downplaying her skills, but he had to admit that she had already fulfilled her part of the bargain. Really, it was on Pharis now to step up as a leader, but she couldn’t do that without it looking like a political power-play. That left Cyrus to try to walk the delicate line between highborn and revolutionary in the next phase until the movement hit critical mass.

  His gaze caught Terry’s, and she gave him a single nod of understanding, as if she’d been following along with his thoughts.

  “You can do this,” she murmured.

  “All right.” Cyrus rubbed his hands together while thinking. “We have everyone fired up, and we need to fan that enthusiasm and make it spread. There’s no way a few people in one port—even though it’s an important hub—are going to make the kind of splash we need through organic word of mouth. We need to film it and broadcast it.”

  “How do you suggest going about that?” Pharis asked.

  “That’s for me to figure out,” he replied. “The less you know, the better. As far as Mother or anyone else is concerned, you came down here to express your thanks for the good work the port workers are doing. What they did with those words is completely out of your control.”

  She inclined her head. “Sounds like as good a play as any.”

  They were nearing the port exit, and the guards across the open foyer came to attention when they saw Pharis approaching.

  “Get back and stay calm,” Cyrus urged his sister. “Message me if it feels unsafe for you.”

  “Assuming I can get a message through.”

  He frowned. “All right. Hourly check-ins for the rest of the day.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “And what are you going to do if I miss a check-in?”

  “Mourn your loss?” He smiled. “I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”

  “One step at a time, right?” She smiled back. “Good luck to both of you. We’ll talk soon,” she promised as she headed off to meet the waiting guards.

  Cyrus and Terry held back, waiting for Pharis and her escort to depart.

  “I hope we’re not sending her back to her slaughter,” Terry murmured.

  “No, that would be a political disaster. Jeslan running off to House Nebracken was actually the best thing she could have done for us.”

  “How’s that?” Terry asked. “I thought your mother was pleased with the partnership.”

  “It’s not that simple. If Jeslan was still around, Mother would probably have unseated Pharis the moment she found out Pharis was coming down here. However, even though she might support a Charlemis-Nebracken partnership, it would be bad for business to name a new scion who’s not even residing with the family at the moment. Silvan should be here as Jeslan’s suitor, not the other way around. Since succession is handled in the female line, Jeslan hasn’t been acting very regal by running over to her suitor’s family. It’s a subtle distinction, but it shows more loyalty to his family than her own.”

  “All right, I can see what you mean.”

  “Mother is very particular about a lot of things, but the thing she cares about most is maintaining House Charlemis’s position and dignity. We’re the newest house to the High Table, and that position has always been perceived as being a bit tenuous. Mother wouldn’t dare risk a public declaration that showed her house as being anything less than stable.”

  “Which is why she’s allowing Jeslan to carry out her own plans, but doesn’t want to endorse them,” Terry supplied.

  “Yes, exactly. And that’s also why we’re counting on her to not publicly denounce Pharis’s part in this revolution, since it would show that Mother doesn’t have control of her children’s actions. If we make a public enough display, she’ll need to go along with it because that’s the only way to make it look like it was her idea.”

  “There are too many ‘shoulds’ and ‘hopefullys’ in this plan for my liking,” Terry said with a frown.

  “Me too, but I don’t know what else to tell you. This kind of politicking is much more art than science.”

  “I like science. That’s why I became a mechanic.”

  “That, and your parents were mechanics, so you had to follow suit.”

  Terry faltered. “Well, that too. But it doesn’t change that I like it!”

  “Mm. Well, for someone who professes to not care about the arts, you spoke rather eloquently earlier today.”

  “It was hardly eloquent. I’ll go so far as ‘passionate’.”

  “Passion and art often go hand-in-hand.”

  “Very poetic.” Terry looked across the port, seeing that the guards had departed with Pharis. “Come on, the coast is clear.”

  Many of the people who’d gathered in the cafeteria and then set off to spread the word were still running around, talking with their friends about all of the things they’d like to see done differently. People who hadn’t been in the room were leery of the suggestions, but hearing a firsthand account from a friend seemed to sway most of them. Groups had started to convene in the port, and there were rumblings about taking to the streets, as Terry had suggested.

  Cyrus approached one of the groups to better listen in on their discussion.

  “We’re going to get ourselves fired,” one woman was saying.

  “That’s the issue!” her friend exclaimed. “We’re living in fear about losing our jobs because we want to ask for one measly day off! I’m sick of this shit. If Lady Pharis is willing to fight on our behalf, we need to take the offer.”

  “How d
o we know it’s not a trick?” a man standing with them asked.

  “She shook our hands. Who else has ever done that?” the first woman replied.

  Her friend nodded. “She looked me in the eyes. Highborn don’t do that. She’s different.”

  “People who stray from the norm have a track record of turning up dead,” the man grumbled.

  “All the more reason for us to take a stand now!” the second woman insisted. “If we show how much she means to us, maybe the other highborn will take our requests seriously.”

  The man nodded slowly. “I suppose Terry might be onto something, she said that we hold the power. Really, if they fired us, who would take our place?”

  Cyrus saw his opening. “There is no one else,” he declared. “They can threaten with all manner of punishment, but when it comes down to it, you are the people who keep this civilization moving. Have no doubt about it, they’ll put up a fight. In the end, though, they’ll need to cave, because without you, they’re nothing.”

  The first woman smiled. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

  “Pharis needed to go control messaging in the manor, but I—we,” he motioned Terry forward, “are committed to seeing this through.”

  “I know you’re nervous,” Terry chimed in. “I was, too, when I thought about the short-term impacts of this kind of movement. Ask yourself, though… if you could go back to the way things are now, after you’ve thought about what could be different, would you be content, or would the ‘what if?’ eat away at the back of your mind?”

  The three workers exchanged glances.

  “Now that my eyes have been opened, they can’t be closed,” the man admitted.

  His two female companions nodded their agreement.

  “Then get your friends, and let’s take a stand,” Terry urged.

  The three workers ran off to go gather more supporters.

  Cyrus gave Terry a playful nudge. “What was that about your part being over?”