by G. R. Carter
Walking up ahead were a half dozen of Romano’s men, similarly outfitted except with camouflage patterns leafier in appearance. Most were once Peacekeepers in the City, so they shared a common demeanor, terminology and weapons expertise. Tony noticed with approval that each man, whether local or his own Peacekeepers, carried the same rifle slung over their shoulder. ARK produced their own weaponry now, no longer needing to wait on the Republic to produce enough to export. The main infantry weapon was the AW-30; the design was based off of a 7.62 mm rifle once carried by military and gangs all over the world. The heavily armed men each walked with confidence befitting rank and training. Anyone garrisoned here had been requested by the Romano family individually, but the Premier gave final approval. After all, they may be employed on Romano’s estate, but they were still ultimately Tony’s men.
Tony appreciated the look of the grounds, wishing he were here in the heart of summer when the green would be at its peak. He was a city boy through and through—the thought of living here gave him more cold chills than the wind did—but he could appreciate natural beauty in a park setting. The lawns rolled gently up towards sculpted bushes and trees, each separated by intricate stonework. The path they walked meandered towards an opening in the tree line, then once past that the great house of the estate was visible. Columns rose up two stories, exposing a grand porch accessible by stone stairs wrapping the entire span of the front. Tall wood frame windows were symmetrically placed around and above the entry doors, the white trim standing out against rust-colored paint covering the siding.
Great homes of post-Reset nobility usually began life as a commercial or governmental headquarters building. This had been the executive offices for a medium-sized insurance company before the collapse. Families preferred to build around estates or complexes a hundred years old or more, finding the structures to be more soundly built. Almost as important, buildings from that era were designed with electronics as a convenience, not essential for all operations. This complex offered plenty of great structures to house over one hundred staff and servants, bountiful local salvage, and proximity to the river. Put all together, this gave the estate an almost mystical setting; a time machine to the antebellum age of the Deep South described so vividly in the history books.
“Welcome to Tarabelle Château, Premier Diamante.”
The voice broke Tony out a near dreamlike trance. He recognized the face as Elias Romano himself, standing at the foot of the stairs in full dress uniform. He was about average height, but the all-white uniform of a skyship Admiral and perfectly erect posture gave him a commanding presence. He removed his hat and took a measured step toward Tony, grasping the hand offered to him and kissing the large red stone with the letters A–R–K engraved across the top.
“Thank you, Admiral Romano. Your people have all been quite helpful. Sorry for the short notice, but it was important you and I speak face to face as soon as possible,” Tony replied as he lowered his hand back down.
“Of course, Premier. We are honored beyond words to have you on the grounds. I hope we can make your stay comfortable; our view is distinctly more rural than what you’re used to,” he said with a nervous chuckle. “Though you can still see a grand river if you wish.” He pointed out towards where the Missouri River lay.
“I won’t be staying, I’m afraid. Just time for a quick visit and then I’ll be on my way to inspect our progress in Kansas City.”
“I understand sir. My staff will be disappointed; they never expected to entertain you here, so they were thrilled when we got news of your arrival. Perhaps another time. Please follow me to the solarium, we can speak there if you wish.”
Tony followed Romano along a meticulously manicured path to the back of the house, finally coming upon what appeared to be a two story tall greenhouse. The lush green leaves inside suggested heat and constant watering, and the brilliantly colored blooms meant more than just the basic necessities were grown here. They stepped through the glass doorway, met by a burst of warmth and humidity as it tried to rush out to join the cold air. You could hear the song of birds, though they must have been caged somewhere—he couldn’t see them from where he stood. Only the sound of water gurgling from a fountain in the center of the path joined the birdcalls to disturb the peace.
“You’ve used your estate allowance wisely, Elias. This whole complex is a fine reflection on your family, and an example of how an ARK Citizen’s residence should look.”
“The extra allotted funds this year were a pleasant surprise, sir. That allowed us to put in irrigation piping to the vineyards. By the way, bottles of our very first batch from four years ago are ready to release. I’d like you to have the first bottle,” Elias beamed.
“Second bottle will do. Keep that first one for yourself, it’s an amazing achievement. I’m impressed your losses were so light when pacifying the area. A rural estate this close to a decent-sized city, you must have been under constant attack.”
“It was touch and go at first. Skyships were a huge help keeping watch and tracking down nests of rateaters.”
The fine gravel crunched under their boots and a few more steps brought them to an oversized gazebo. Impeccably dressed servants stood quietly, ready to respond to the commands of their superior. Romano pointed to the white wooded structure in front of them. “Please, sir, right over here. This is where I like to sit and speak with visitors; that is, when we have visitors. A bit more frequently now since you commissioned the other ten estates in the area.”
“I’m told that the staff of Tarabelle Château has been nothing but helpful to the new settlements. Thank you for that,” Tony replied. Reports were kept on all dealings between the estates, looking for signs of territory spats.
“Of course, sir. My family will always be grateful for everything you’ve done for us. Helping other ARK Citizens expand our nation is the least we can do to say thanks,” Romano replied. “I’m just sorry we couldn’t save more of Columbia’s infrastructure. We lost a lot of time having to rebuild that, but maybe with the additional settlements we can cooperate and salvage some of the fine old buildings there on the old campus.”
“I guess I should also say thanks for saving two of my skyships and their crews.”
The two men settled into high backed wicker chairs, arranged opposite but at a slight angle to provide views of the fountain. Romano’s smile had evaporated with Tony’s words. He wiped his eye, gathered himself and took a sip of hot tea offered by a servant.
“I’m not sure I can accept that gratitude, Premier. Though you offering such kind words means more than you know. Such brave men and women…such beautiful ships…gone in seconds. I never saw that plane coming…”
“Yet because you acted quickly, believed in the tactics, you were able to save your surviving ships.”
Romano said nothing else; he had no other words to offer. Tony sensed the man’s discomfort and moved on. “Is there anything else you have remembered about the incident? Anything you can offer to help me understand what happened. Perhaps a suggestion for preventing such an unpleasant surprise in the future?”
“I’ve run the thing over and over in my head, trying to figure out a way to fight back. We discussed this very scenario when I did joint training with the Red Hawks at Old Main. Their Raptor pilots used to give us a hard time, saying they could take our skyships down without any problem.”
“Did you believe them?”
Elias thought for a moment. “Yes and no. I mean, it was all hypothetical…we never imagined we’d be flying against anyone capable of mounting air resistance. The tactics we focused on had to do with avoiding ground fire.”
“But you still believe in the skyship program? You think there’s a way to survive even against fixed-wing craft?”
“Oh, definitely. I don’t know everything you have planned, Premier Diamante, but I can fill in the gaps on a map. Skyships are the only effective way to transport goods and people in a safe manner right now. Look at this place. Tarabelle
would have never been possible without skyships.”
Tony nodded. “It will be several generations before traveling on the ground is truly safe. Even with armored trains.”
“I studied the plans for the German zeppelins used in bombing raids in World War I. I suppose we will have to mount weapons on the top of the skyships to at least keep attackers from lingering. Make their strafing runs more difficult?” Elias half-stated, half asked.
“Nicole and her engineers are working on something like that. She brought back the original plans for the Zeppelin L70 from the Republic’s Archives. We’re trying to match that up to the new AirLander 99s.” Tony leaned over to Elias. “You’ll get command of the first one if you wish.”
Before Elias could reply, he continued. “It was Nicole’s insistence that we ground the hydrogen skyships until we figure out a way to protect them. I’m thinking we go ahead with the gun mounts, but also give you a couple of planes to escort you.”
“Do you still think we should replicate the USS Akron, sir? Make our skyships flying aircraft carriers?”
Tony shook his head. “Nicole is convinced that’s ultimately impractical. Instead of the best of both worlds, our models tell us it’s just the opposite. Because we’re spreading out so fast, we need more medium-sized ships. The Akron class would take twice as long to build not even counting training. We don’t have enough fixed-wing pilots available. For now, we stick with our current strategy, just with a bit more modest goals.”
“Our skyship crews are up to the challenge, sir. I promise we won’t let you down.” Elias’s mood changed, a dark look replacing his calm demeanor. “I’m looking forward to getting back out there. I’ve got some unfinished business with that squadron.”
Tony looked at his highest-ranking officer with confusion. “What squadron?” he asked. “I thought you said you were attacked by just one plane.”
“Just one, that’s correct. I just assumed she was part of a squadron because of the patch on her arm.”
Tony’s stomach twisted, afraid to ask the next question. “Please tell me it wasn’t a Red Hawk, or an American flag."
“Oh no, of course not, sir. I’d recognize both of those right away. I put a description in the report, did you not see it?” Elias asked. “I can describe it again, if you wish. In fact, I think I’ll personally paint a green shield on every bomb we drop from now on.”
Tony’s brief relief turned to rage. Through clinched teeth, he squeezed out the question he already knew the answer to. “You’re telling me that the pilot wore a green shield insignia? Did it have a silver outline?”
“Yes it did, sir,” Elias replied. The murderous look on the Premier’s face startled him. ARK’s leader had a reputation for volatility. Their heretofore pleasant conversation inexplicably took a turn for the frigid. “It was in the report? Otherwise how did you know sir?”
“Because I now realize who it was that destroyed our ships and killed our men. I need you to cable ahead to Kansas City. Tell them I won’t be making the trip out after all. I’ve got to return to the City immediately. And summon one of the skyships, I don’t want to wait for my train to turn around,” Tony commanded.
“Of course, sir,” Elias replied while summoning his aides lingering patiently nearby. “Let me take you myself, sir, in the Tulsa. She’s on 24-hour standby just off site. We can be airborne in an hour. I know we’re supposed to be grounded, but surely we can make the trip to the City.”
“Make it happen. And get me a secure cable right away. I need to speak to someone immediately.”
Chapter Twelve
Heimat Aronia Point
Personal Residence of Founder Alex and Rebekah Hamilton
Red Hawk Republic – Okaw Province
“I want them all dead, Alex! You need to walk away from this and let me handle my own business. You don’t run ARK, and you sure as hell better hope you don’t claim to run those Bible-thumping Buckles,” the voice screamed out from the cable receiver. Alex looked at the plastic speaker, state-of-the-art technology here in the post-Reset world. Attached to the box was a line running 120 miles directly to the offices of the Red Hawk Republic’s closest ally. It had taken months to complete: a cable spliced together through bandit country, natural obstacles and under one of the largest rivers in the world. But the line of communication was invaluable in a world where radio broadcasts might hope to make it a few miles without being disrupted—if the equipment generating the signal wasn’t destroyed by solar interference first.
“Are you there? Are you hearing me?” the voice demanded.
“I hear you loud and clear, Tony,” Alex replied. “We have to talk this out. ARK and Mt. Horab need to figure out a way to work together. You’re too close to each other for this to keep festering. How are we supposed to fight the Caliphate if we can’t even get along with each other?”
Tony Diamante swore loud enough to be heard over the constant static that crackled through the speaker. “Enough with the Caliphate, Alex. You’ve been screaming about the sky falling for years now. You did what was needed, you built up your border. The Jijis aren’t stupid enough to take you on. Look in your own backyard if you want to find real terrorists,” Tony replied.
“The Buckles aren’t terrorists and you know it. Just because you hate them doesn’t mean they’re trying to pick a fight with you,” Alex said.
“Oh, they picked a fight. That’s for sure. Attacked my boats, knocked down two of my airships, and killed about thirty of my men. They have no idea what kind of fight they’ve picked.”
Alex felt his own patience wane. “Tony, your boats fired on them first! Then you try and pull some kind of commando raid on Grand Tower in the middle of the night? You killed a lot of civilians they had working there! And to top it all off, you bomb that same facility the next day, destroying their equipment and nearly killing the ones trying to clean up your mess! I’d say you’re just mad because they kicked your ass three times in one week!”
Static came from the receiver. Alex waited for a few seconds, then a minute, but no reply came. Finally, he said, “Tony, come to Mt. Vernon this week. Let’s sit down at the summit, talk this out. We have to clear these issues up now, or the next generation will hate each other instead of working together.”
“Everyone being together was your dream, Alex. Not mine. My dream is to build ARK. No one’s going to stop me from doing that.”
Alex rubbed his temples. “You’ve changed, Tony,” he sighted, just loud enough for his friend to hear.
“You sure haven’t,” came the chilly reply.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Poor little woe-is-me farmers, right? Except that in the space of a few years you grew from one little county with what, five thousand people? Now you’ve got a million under your rule?”
“We don’t consider it ruling, those people chose to move to the Republic territories.”
“Please. Spare me the ‘we’re not an empire’ speech. You took over Old Main, then Shawnee, then America, then Blackhawk territory…”
“Funny you bring up Blackhawk territory; it’s called Peoria, remember? They joined us willingly. Were you going to change the name back after you took it from us?” Alex paused. When there was no answer he continued. “Yeah, that’s right, we found an Article of ARK Citizenship signed by Kathy Kingsley in a dead Land Lord’s personal effects. Turns out he was going to lead the whole province out of the Republic and into ARK. You forget to tell me that part?”
“Is that why you had him killed?” Tony shouted back.
“Not my style, Tony. Remember, that isn’t my family business.”
Another pause came, leaving Alex the time to regret the insult. The open air stretched uncomfortably, finally giving way to a calmer but icy voice over the cable.
“Uncle Jack will be at your meeting to pick up Captain Oliver and the rest of his crew,” Tony finally said. “More importantly, I want those boats back.”
Alex leaned ba
ck in his chair, feeling his heart pound and his head throb. He glanced at Bek now standing in the doorway, looking at him with misty eyes. The friendship between the Hamiltons and Diamantes was supposed to last for generations. Their vision of a broad-reaching Republic counted on the two strongest building blocks being inseparable in their shared image of the future. Those dreams were quickly turning into nightmares.
“Oh, and Alex, one more thing,” Tony’s voice hissed through. “Uncle Jack will present our demands for reparations from Mt. Horab for all the damage they’ve done. There will be no negotiation.”
The static died down to barely audible, the sign that the other end was switched off. Alex flipped the power switch, marking the first time ever the line between the two was completely cut.
“What are we going to do, Alex?” Bek asked him. She walked over and sat on the edge of the chair, slipping one slender arm around his shoulders and kissing the top of his head.
She was half expecting him to be in tears, but his piercing blue eye seemed set on something else. “As bad as I want you here, I need you to make one more trip. I need you to go to Mt. Vernon, meet with Maleah Olsen. Do it under the auspice of preparations for the summit.”
“Okay, that’s not a problem. Mom would be there so I’ve got plenty of reasons to go early. And I like Maleah, she’s very bright. Without question the entire Hunsinger family is a good influence on Eric. What do you want me to tell her?”
“Tell her I’m willing to do anything in my power to fix this rift between our families. That includes sharing the Founder’s Chair with Eric. Maybe do a triumvirate with Sam, also.”
Bek pulled away and studied Alex’s face. “Whoa,” she stammered. “That’s a really big step. Just a few days ago you were about to accuse Eric of conspiring against us, now you want to make him one heartbeat away from Founder?”
