by Jack Thorlin
After a moment, George said, “You should probably go back to the operating base. The Ushah may yet try another attack.”
“You are right, my friend,” Igazi said. “Good luck, and thank you for all you are doing.”
Chapter 31: Flower
A drink. One drink, Flower told herself. It was only ten in the morning and she knew she shouldn’t, knew she’d had too much the night before.
But the day was already... harsh. She really needed a vacation, she thought, but she couldn’t very well take one, so she decided to satisfy her craving. Activating the intercom to her secretary, she said, “A glass of white wine, please.” Inside of a minute, she was sipping the slightly chilled vino and feeling less anxious.
A lifetime in politics somehow hadn’t prepared her for the stress of her job, of what her career had become since the Ushah had arrived. She remembered before the Ushah, when the biggest demand on her time had been the damn dog parks initiative that she’d thought people would remember her for someday while they enjoyed a Sunday stroll with their puppies.
She laughed bitterly. It had been three long years since the Ushah had arrived, and she had overseen the slowly escalating conflict with the reptilian invaders. She had expanded her Public Safety Committee to become a full-blown Security Committee, the first in centuries. The evolution in title was not merely cosmetic, she knew. It was a signal to the world that the Ushah were not a force to be contained by ordinary measures.
The Security Committee would be meeting in just a few minutes to discuss a battle that had taken place hours earlier in Mozambique at some damned place called Base Delta. The robots had taken six Ushah prisoners, and someone needed to figure out what to do with them.
That in and of itself was big news, but much more ominously, an Ushah prisoner had told one of the robots that the Ushah were holding human prisoners. If true, that would represent a dangerous escalation in the war. Oh, a few Arcani had been lost from time to time, but they were volunteers, and often, to put it bluntly, socially maladjusted nobodies. What would the people of the Terran Alliance think if people like them started vanishing to turn up in some Ushah dungeon?
The intercom buzzed. “All members of the Security Committee are present and ready to start the meeting,” her secretary said.
She gulped down the last of the wine and put the glass on the floor behind her desk, where it wouldn’t be seen. “Send them in,” she said.
Six men and women came in. Safety Minister Redfeather, still hungering to upgrade his title to Security Minister. Entertainment Minister Fabrizio, knowing nothing of use, but politically popular and a welcome reminder of simpler times. Professor Jackson, constantly agitating for more confrontation of the Ushah. Dr. Takagawa, still building and servicing her robots.
And finally, the leaders of the two parties that had developed in the Terran Alliance Assembly since the Ushah arrival: Representative Guy Allahad of the Eldridgites and Representative Tao Ramanathan of Flower’s own Peace Party.
When everyone was settled, she had Takagawa brief them all on what had happened in Mozambique. She already knew all the details, of course, but the representatives certainly would not, and it was useful to establish a common baseline of facts before diving into the debate.
While Takagawa spoke, Flower tried to read the reactions of the others in the room. It didn’t take much political acumen to figure out where the fault lines would be drawn between the various factions.
Though her ministers were theoretically independent of the parties, Flower knew that Safety Minister Redfeather had attended a number of fundraisers for the Eldridgite Party, which controlled about 42 percent of the TA Assembly seats.
The Eldridgites, named for the venerated Tanya Eldridge, were always sure that a grand bargain with the Ushah was right around the corner, if only First Representative Flower would restrain Project Charlie and offer permanent settlement territory in Africa. Accordingly, Redfeather looked almost outraged by the news that the robots had secured a significant battlefield victory. Representative Allahad appeared to be turning pink, then red with indignation. He was known as a handsome up-and-coming member of the Terran Alliance legislature, but anger denuded him of his boyish charm.
Turning her gaze to Fabrizio, she saw the member of her cabinet most widely identified with the Peace Party. She knew enough about political history from the days of parties centuries past to recognize that most parties had names that made no sense, given their substantive policy positions. The Peace Party was more wary of the Ushah, supported funding for Project Charlie, and insisted that any long-term peace arrangement would include some kind of mutually verifiable disarmament between the Ushah and humanity.
The Peace Party was cautious, however. They were the more popular of the two parties at the moment because the Charlies were winning and most reasonable people saw the maps of Ushah expansion and felt fear. But the general populace didn’t want war. For centuries, virtually no one had experienced conflict of any kind, and the return to the ancient concept of war scared many of them. Accordingly, Entertainment Minister Fabrizio and Representative Ramanathan took in the news of the victory at Base Delta with equanimity and a straight face, betraying no emotion whatsoever.
Virtually all of the remaining 58 percent of seats in the Terran Alliance belonged to the Peace Party. Though Flower assiduously balanced her favors to both parties, she was much more philosophically aligned with the Peace Party. She had no interest in becoming the leader who lost Earth to the Ushah. Better to be remembered as an unenlightened, untrusting ruler than not be remembered at all, she thought. Then she thought about how much she wanted a drink.
Flower flicked a glance at Jackson, but she knew it was a waste of time to look for his reaction. He and his wife—spouse, she corrected herself, using the preferred gender neutral construction even in her own mind—Takagawa were known to be bellicose, supporting the most hostile interpretation of every Ushah action and constantly advocating to expand the role of the robots in the conflict. No doubt they would be expressing outrage at her decision not to allow the robots to attack the Ushah colony after the battle was won.
“Tanya wouldn’t have been happy about this supposed victory,” Redfeather noted, interrupted the briefing. “She would have wanted to know what effect it would have on the prospects for a long-term peace with the Ushah.”
Tanya Eldridge’s views were the ultimate barometer of acceptability to the Eldridgites. A number of representatives in the Assembly, including Allahad, were pushing bills to rename virtually everything more glamorous than a parking meter after her.
Once Takagawa’s presentation had covered the salient facts, Flower cut in brusquely. “Now we have to decide what to do with the Ushah prisoners, what to do about the reports of human prisoners, and what, if anything, we can do to stop these battles between the robots and the Ushah from escalating into an all-out war. Thoughts?”
Representative Allahad did not miss a beat. “We need to reopen negotiations and figure out a sustainable solution.”
Representative Ramanathan noted coolly, “Professor Jackson, I understand you have tried contacting Ashsef, the Ushah diplomat with whom you arranged the Madagascar settlement, about once a month for the past two and a half years.”
It wasn’t really a question, but Jackson answered nevertheless. “Yes, I have, per First Representative Flower’s orders, on the same frequency at the same time of day as when they contacted us in the aftermath of the first contact on the Empathy. I have not received a response of any kind.”
Redfeather interjected, “Perhaps they need some concessions before they feel comfortable coming back to the talks.”
Ramanathan snorted derisively. “How much of Africa would you like to give away? Do you want to be the one to tell the South African delegation that we’re giving up on them?”
“Please,” Flower said, rubbing her head tiredly. “I want ideas on how to respond to these specific problems. If we aren’t going to offer the
Ushah all of Africa, what are we going to do?”
Jackson proffered, “I believe the Ushah will only come to the negotiating table if we start pushing them back. Only when Charlie II killed their diplomat and soldier on the Empathy did they deign to talk to us. I don’t think they’ll be moved by any pleas—only by their own internal calculation of self-interest.”
“And your suggestion is?” Flower asked.
“Have the Charlie IVs take Colony 4, turn out all of the inhabitants, take whatever intelligence we can get, and burn it to the ground.”
“Are you out of your mind?!” Allahad shouted.
Jackson didn’t take his eyes off Flower. “We shouldn’t pretend we’re doing anything other than fighting a war. Wars are not won by half-measures. They are won by breaking the enemy’s will to resist. Killing Ushah soldiers does not break the will of the Ushah leaders. More soldiers can be bred to replace the ones that have died. But the Ushah don’t have many colonies, especially not on the mainland. If we hit them hard, I believe they’ll pull back.”
Representative Allahad had turned a shade of purple, anger building up right behind the skin of his face. Flower held up a finger to forestall his outburst. “Dr. Takagawa, is that your assessment.”
“No, that is his assessment,” she said to the concern of her husband. She added, “But in this case, mine is the same as his. I have seen nothing from the Ushah that makes me believe they are willing to compromise unless their backs are to a wall.”
Escalation or unilateral concessions. Flower considered the ultimate political costs of either option.
Escalation would mean more money for Project Charlie. The Peace Party was broadly more receptive to such measures, but they would be nowhere near as vehement in their support as the Eldridgites would be in opposition. How willing would the citizenry of the Terran Alliance be to incur more taxes to take back a bit of an African backwater?
Unilateral concessions might be a smarter move politically. Sure, the African delegations would be upset, but in a moment of brutal honesty, Flower admitted to herself that not many people in the more wealthy parts of the world would care. South Africa would make noise, but they wouldn’t want to hand control to the Eldridgites.
If Flower was perceived as too close to the Peace Party, unilateral concessions would lead to a public perception of bipartisanship that could inflate her personal approval ratings from their current 53 percent.
The politics were good, she thought, but she felt... what? Uncertainty? No, not that exactly. Just a gut feeling that the more she conceded, the more the Ushah would push. It went against everything she had been taught, everything she espoused, but she just plain did not trust the Ushah.
A compromise occurred to her. “What if we agree to pull back from Base Delta to avoid further bloodshed while simultaneously deploying more robots to the surrounding area? We have reserves, don’t we?”
Takagawa fielded the question. “We have 90 Charlie IVs in the entire force at the moment. Thirty were deployed to Colony 4 to smash the Ushah attack there. Another 15 each are at Colonies 1, 2, and 3, with another 15 undergoing testing and training in Houston.”
“That sounds like enough,” Flower judged. “Pull back from Base Delta, then figure out a way to send another ten to the Colony 4 area. If the Ushah try to take out the new base, beat them again and we’ll see then if anything changes.”
Jackson leaned forward in his chair and spoke insistently. “Why would we possibly give up an operating base when the Ushah were the ones who committed the aggression?”
“An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind,” Allahad said heatedly.
“Damn it, what lesson do you think they’re going to draw when they learn we’ll retreat no matter what they do?” Jackson snapped.
Flower was tired of the arguments, thinking about the drink she would have as soon as the meeting ended. “Enough. I will consider the arguments raised here and let you know my decision shortly. Thank you for coming for this meeting.” She stood, and the signal was clear.
Most stood to leave, but Jackson spoke again. “First Representative, with all due respect, this is a mistake, and we’ll be discussing the same problem again in a month.”
Allahad scoffed, “Brilliant prediction. I’m sure we’ll also be hearing from you in a month how badly we need more robots, then a few days later you’ll probably have a fancy new car.”
Flower tried to regain control of the situation, but Jackson interrupted her.
“Are you calling me corrupt?” Jackson asked, anger contorting his face.
Allahad answered with slow relish, “I’m calling you a corrupt war monger trying to sleep his way into power with your robot-loving wife.”
Jackson was a bookish looking man, bespectacled and civilized. But this evidently was too much for him. Without a word, he took a step toward Allahad, cocked his arm back, and delivered a punch right to the younger man’s nose.
Allahad recoiled back, falling to the ground in shock. His nose, evidently broken by the punch, spouted blood. “My—my nose,” he babbled. “Someone call a doctor!” He began to cry.
For his part, Jackson showed no sign of contrition. He turned to leave Flower’s office.
The First Representative’s mind raced to overcome the shock of violence coming to her very office. As far as she knew, no one had ever fought in this room at the center of Terran Alliance power.
In an instant, anger rushed in. Who the hell did Jackson think ou was? she thought to herself. She had adjourned the meeting, told her Security Committee to leave her alone, but no one listened to her. Well, perhaps they need an example.
“Professor Jackson, you are hereby relieved of your appointment to the Security Committee. You will no longer be admitted into this building. Get out of here at once.” Flower’s voice brooked no disagreement.
Jackson didn’t even turn around to face her, which only antagonized Flower further. Takagawa began to protest, “You can’t do thi—”
Flower snapped, “You are also relieved of your seat on the Committee. Please follow your spouse out of my office.”
For a moment, no one else moved. Fabrizio and Ramanathan looked completely baffled. Even Allahad and Redfeather, who had profited most from the turn of events, didn’t know quite what to say.
Takagawa broke the moment. In a calm, steady voice, she said, “First Representative, I see where you are taking the situation. Call me when the real crisis begins.” She walked after her husband as if nothing had happened.
Chapter 32: Art
“Attention, all Charlies,” Yazov’s terse, clipped voice came over the radio. “Move to Base Kappa in Sector BB 72. Once there, enter hibernation mode. Acknowledge.”
The order to acknowledge receipt was entirely unnecessary, Art knew. The Charlies’ communications software automatically transmitted a signal confirming receipt of orders issued through the radio.
Once all the Charlies had responded, Joan, on patrol with Art and Simon, asked out loud, “Why does Mr. Yazov want an additional confirmation of receipt?”
The reason for the redundant request was as obvious as it was patronizing, Art thought, but he reminded himself that most Charlies had not come as far as he in their analysis of the humans. “The Terran Alliance is ordering us to abandon our positions and leave Base Delta defenseless to the Ushah. They’re afraid some of us are intelligent enough to realize how idiotic their orders are.”
Joan took a moment to process Art’s hostility. Art knew that the idea wasn’t a total shock to Joan. If she had been expecting an uncontroversial answer, she wouldn’t have asked the question out loud, where the human minders wouldn’t be instantly notified of it.
She avoided Art’s hostility, saying, “Why do you think Mr. Yazov sounded so angry?” The Charlies had had enough time to get to know the tones of humans, and they recognized the stress in Yazov’s voice.
“It could have something to do with an article in today’s Toronto Daily Star,” Art s
aid, transmitting the document to her.
Joan scanned the contents of the article. “Professor Jackson and Dr. Takagawa were removed from the Security Committee?”
“Yes,” Art said. “Obviously, they would have objected to the decision to retreat back to Sector BB 72. First Representative Flower did not want to listen to their objections.”
Art could tell that Joan was trying to understand what was happening, and he told himself that it was to be expected. After all, it had taken several weeks from his first doubts for Art to comprehend what the Terran Alliance was doing. He decided to help Joan along the path to understanding.
“At first, I thought the stupidity of the Terran Alliance’s decisions reflected a conscious desire to undermine the war against the Ushah,” Art explained.
