Manna

by Lee Correy

  “This is mutiny, Peter.”

  “The RIO Steering Committee will be the judge of that, Milan…if I succeed. If I don’t, it won’t make any difference.”

  Rutledge was right. He was the one who had everything to gain by action and everything to lose by doing nothing. So did we.

  The history books say one thing about the Rutledge assumption of RIO command.

  However, we three who were present were rarely asked about it. It was quite emotionless and certainly non-violent because that reflected the personalities involved. Otasek was an imposing man with a dislike of violence and a reluctance to engage in self protection, traits that had survived generations of Middle Europa’s history of violence and conquest. On the other hand, Rutledge was cultured, friendly, and polite with an inner core that could be ruthless if the need arose.

  Otasek reached out, pulled the keypad out of his desk, and typed his resignation of command. Without a word, he transferred it into the RIO data bank, noting time and date, then requested a hard copy print-out which he signed and handed to Rutledge. “I can only wish for you good luck,” Otasek said with hesitation, his emotion showing only in his slight lapse into more of a Slavic accent than he normally exhibited. “I must of course bring thematter to the attention of the Steering Committee.”

  “I trust we’ll both survive to be present at the meeting which deals with this,” Rutledge replied. “As it is, it’ll be touch-and-go for a bit whilst I try to muddle through to victory.” He turned to us and went on, “I’m dreadfully sorry you were forced to witness this somewhat sticky situation, my friends. Usually, we don’t air our internal disagreements in the presence of others. However, I can hardly apologize without pointing out that you were the ones who brought it to a head. I’ll see to it you’re accompanied back to your ship, and I’ll certainly keep you apprised of developments.”

  “What about Powersat One-Zero-Five-East?” I wanted to know.

  “I think we can take care of the matter,” the new RIO Commandant remarked in his offhanded manner. “Our teams don’t carry weapons, but neither do the powersat operating crews. I suspect the crews would rather go along with a situation that keeps them from becoming military targets. They’re quite vulnerable, as you pointed out. After all, the choice between being killed or, if they survive, being fired…Well, it’s not much of a choice, is it?”

  “Peter, do you need any help? Any equipment?” I wanted to know.

  He shook his head as he showed us to the door of Otasek’s office. “Thank, you, Sandy, but I don’t believe that will be necessary right now. But shall we see how things develop, eh? Actually, I’m not going to seize the powersat network, you know. I’m going to take temporary control, not possession. The RIO resident teams will be instructed to see to it that power continues to flow to ground rectennas. We don’t want to close the world down; that would cause more trouble than a war.”

  “How do you intend to do it?” Ursila wondered.

  “Ursila, my dear, Milan Otasek was not totally aware of everything that went on in RIO. Although we’re an unarmed parmilitary organization, that doesn’t preclude us from having such organizational trappings of pure military groups as study staffs working on contingency plans and the like…”

  It seemed too easy, too pat, too quickly done. But perhaps I’d overestimated the problem by assuming that only those of us in Landlimo Corporation and the Commonwealth had spent time thinking about the scenarios and options. After all, now-Commandant Peter Rutledge had turned out to be a rare combination of a thoughtful person and a man of action. He knew how to let it all hang out—with tassles on it. He would have been one hell of a good space jockey.

  A RIO administrative officer guided us through the maze of corridors to the portlock where our ship was docked. We retrieved our iklawas, slipped into our ship, and closed hatches.

  It was only then that Ursila grabbed Ali and embraced. Then Ali grasped my hand and arm. “Good work, Sandy!”

  “I didn’t think it could happen!” Ursila was saying.

  “We’ve won! We’ve won!” Ali’s relief at the lifting of the threat from Powersat One-Zero-Five-East was evident in his voice.

  I held up my hand. “Keep a cool couth, folks. We haven’t won yet. It looks like we’re on the way to winning, but Rutledge has to bring it off. I don’t know how he’s going to do it, buthe’s apparently got plans. I just hope they work.”

  We boosted for L-5 and the RIO order came on our unicorn printer:

  “RESIDENT INSPECTION ORGANIZATION HEADQUARTERS SPECIAL MESSAGE 200450 2130Z

  RIO RESIDENT POWERSAT TEAMS HAVE BEEN INSTRUCTED TO REQUEST POWERSAT OPERATING CREWS DO NOT REDIRECT POWERSAT BEAMS FROM PREVIOUSLY ENERGIZED RECTENNAS AND TO RETURN ANY REDIRECTED BEAMS TO ORIGINAL TARGET RECTENNAS WITHIN ONE HOUR

  POWERSAT OWNER ORGANIZATIONS ARE REQUESTED TO ISSUE THIS SAME INSTRUCTION TO OPERATING CREWS AND TO INFORM RIO HEADQUARTERS UPON HAVING DONE SO

  THIS SPECIAL REQUEST IS BEING MADE TO ENSURE THAT POWERSAT BEAMS ARE NOT REDIRECTED TO ENERGIZE WEAPON DEVICES KNOWN TO BE EMPLACED IN EARTH ORBITS AND CAPABLE OF DESTROYING BOTH SPACE AND EARTH TARGETS

  NORMAL SERVICE FROM POWERSATS WILL NOT BE AFFECTED

  NORMAL SERVICE INTERRUPTIONS FOR ROUTINE MAINTENANCE OR REPAIR WILL NOT BE AFFECTED

  HOWEVER POWERSATS WILL BE REMOVED FROM SERVICE BY RIO ACTION IF POWERSAT BEAMS ARE REDIRECTED OR ARE NOT RETURNED TO TARGET RECTENNAS AS REQUESTED

  SIGNED AND AUTHORIZED P RUTLEDGE COMMANDANT PRO TEM

  END MESSAGE END MESSAGE END MESSAGE

  200450 2133Z”

  “Nicely done, nicely done,” Ali commented as he read the hard copy. “Very carefully worded.”

  I had to agree. “Peter was careful not to say how he’d react if he didn’t get compliance,” I pointed out. “It’s a very astute move not to reveal in advance what his intentions are.”

  “The big question,” Ursila put in, “is whether or not the people of the Tripartite will believe RIO can or will do anything.”

  “They’ll test him,” Ali guessed. “They’ll pressure him first. Then they’ll conduct an experiment through some small and innocuous group. If the experiment fails—as I think it will—not much will be lost. That’s the way power groups operate.”

  “So do military commanders,” I told him.

  “Question,” Ursila said. “The Tripartite and anyone else with their fingers on this situation knows we went to GEO Base Zero before the Rutledge message and are returning afterward. We’re running with an STC clearance.”

  “So what’s got you worried?” Ali wanted to know.

  “Aerospace Force has a lot of things at Ell-Five they don’t talk about and don’t think anybody knows about…but we do. My question: Will we be allowed to get back to Ell-Five or will we have an accident first?”

  “Have we got enough delta-vee left to divert to Criswell Base on Luna instead?” Ali asked. Ursila, who was co-pilot, punched the on-board computer’s keypad. “Yes, but…”

  “But what?”

  “Have we got adequate life support consumables to last for three more weeks in this ship? Yes, we can make it, but it would have to be done using apogee kick in lunar orbit, which we intend to do anyway to match with Ell-Five, then drifting orbital repositioning thrust because that’s all the delta-vee capability we’ll have after apogee kick. Remember, we left Ell-Five running light with only enough delta-vee for the down-and-back flight plus normal contingency reserve.”

  I had to interrupt this searching for impossible alternatives. “We’re already headed toward Ell-Five. We can’t afford to divert to Luna. It’ll take too long. So we’ll muddle through, as Peter put it. We won’t have any trouble. As The General observed, one Aldoric can be passed off as an accident, but two incidents in a row would be very embarrassing.”

  The commscanner sweeping through the Commonwealth commercial frequencies stopped blinking and beeped.

  I punched up the freq and called, “This is Tomahok
replying on Hotel Quebec. Go ahead.”

  “Sandy?”

  “This is Sandy Baldwin.”

  “Thank God! At last! This is Jeri at Ell-Five. I’ve been trying to reach you for the last four hours.”

  “We’ve been in GEO Base Zero with the RIO commanders, Jeri. Why didn’t you call us there?”

  “Couldn’t get through! All channels were tied up.”

  “I can understand why. RIO’s…”

  “Sandy, smoke it back here fast! All hell’s broken loose down below,” the ex-Aussie manager of the Commonwealth’s Ell-Five facility told us, his voice strained with excitement.

  “There’s been a revolution in Topawa! Kariander Dok and two others have taken over the Commonwealth government in a coup de etat!”

  Chapter 17

  Confrontation and Conference

  The images of the three men loomed on the screen. They looked like a victorious triumvirate—Kariander Dok, Tonol Kokat, and Heinrich von Undine.

  “You really have no choice, Alichin,” Dok said with a smile. “Our Freedom Army holds Topawa and Oidak. We control the highways, the railways, the primary seaport, and the Oidak rectenna. It’s only a matter of time before we secure the rest of the country.”

  “Still fighting, eh?” Ali observed. “There’s a lot of country out there you haven’t touched yet, Dok. And ‘Freedom Army?’ Hah!”

  “Our Freedom Army will take the Vamori Free Space Port before the day is out,” Tonol Kokat bragged.

  “You’ll need outside help,” I was trying to draw them out.

  “We have it. Fresh contingent of the Freedom Army will be pouring into Pitoika soon. While you and Abiku’s tin soldiers were fretting over your neighbors and powersats, we had time to make arrangements with our friends and move unmolested to make a long-needed change in the Commonwealth.”

  “You sold out to the Tripartite!” Ali exploded.

  “You use terminology loosely,” Dok said. “It’s unfortunate you were the Commonwealth’s representative in Santa Fe. A reasonable person would have seen the opportunity offered there. Your intransigence and that of the rest of the Vamori family and its stooges has cost us dearly in terms of lost business. The three of us set about to rectify the situation. It took time, but we have friends in America, Japan, and Europe. But enough of that. Now that the change has occurred, we must all pull together to get the Commonwealth operating properly.”

  “Having a bit of trouble, Dok?” I asked. “Some people resisting your new order? Your ‘Freedom Army’ is probably having fun fighting the Citlmpy.”

  It was Heinrich von Undine who spoke up with agitation, “They will not resist forever. Members of the Citlmpy who turn in their rifles and ammunition are being given full amnesty. Those who do not will be severely dealt with. I have brought in people to establish internal security police, and they know how to do this sort of thing very well.”

  “Ve haf vays! I don’t doubt that.” I snapped. “They’ve had a couple of centuries of experience. Too bad they haven’t learned yet.”

  “I said enough of this,” Kariander Dok interjected. “We were forced to move quickly and didn’t manage to establish the proper people in our Commonwealth space operations. Therefore, we’re extending to you the general amnesty offered to other citizens…with the exception of the Vamori, Stoak, Tatri, Teaq, and other ruling families who’ve held this country in their grip for so long.”

  “Dok, if this weren’t such a serious matter, I’d laugh at you,” I told him. “You’re spouting your own propaganda like you believed it! You’re right out of a mid-twentieth-century war movie!”

  “For that remark, Baldwin,” Dok sputtered, “you’ll be stripped of your rank and power just like your boss, Alichin Vamori!”

  “Kariander Dok, someday I’ll eat you!” Alichin Vamori vented the oldest and strongest Commonwealth curse.

  I scribbled on a scrap of paper, “Stall. Promise nothing. Get back to him. Let me evaluate the situation.”

  “Ah, school boys passing secret notes to one another,” Dok observed. “It’s as childishas your anger. Lest we be misunderstood with regard to your family and others, we’re not as barbaric as your curse. I came from one of the oldest civilized cultures where, in fact, civilization itself began. My colleague von Undine comes from an old European culture. We’d never consider murdering the the leaders of the old regime. Arrangements will be made to to free them without the means to regain the power they once used so badly.”

  Ali started to explode again, but I laid my hand on his arm and took over. “Dok, I’ve got to admit this is a surprise. We’re tired and hungry. Give us a few hours to get some rest. You owe us that much for preventing a space war that would have cost the Tripartite dearly.”

  I was stalling and trying to pile it high and dry without it being obvious. I needed time to find out what was really happening down in the Commonwealth. Time to grasp the whole situation. Time to find out if Rutledge was succeeding. Time to organize the forces we had in space. Time to coordinate actions with the indunos. Time to plan what we could do.

  I hadn’t forgotten what The General said before he left for the Commonwealth with Tsaya.

  Tsaya! She was down there.

  So was Vaivan.

  And The General.

  And other Commonwealthers I’d grown to love and admire, people who’d had the guts to tell the world to quit playing its old games because they’d discovered a world of plenty if others would only see what they’d seen.

  Where were they?

  Wherever they were, I knew they’d be fighting like hell if they were still alive.

  Time. I desperately needed time, and I’d lick boots and kiss ass to get those three to give it to me. If I got it, I wouldn’t waste a second of it.

  On the screen, there was a hushed conversation between the triumvirate. Kariander Dok finally replied smoothly, “We owe you nothing, Baldwin. However, a short delay is harmless since our Freedom Army will have most of our objectives secured soon. You have eight hours to convince the citizens there of the wisdom of accepting the new government. I’ll call you on this channel at eleven hundred hours, Zulu time.”

  When the circuit was cut, I thought Ali would go berserk. “My father! My mother! My sister! My whole family! Grandfather, and everything he’s given his years to achieve! All because of those greedy monsters who were bought by the Tripartite!”

  I put both hands on him to keep him quiet. But he had his iklawa out of its scabbard and held in his right hand. Like all iklawas, it was sharp.

  “Ali, sit down and shut up!” I shouted at him. “We don’t know anything for sure yet! Keep your couth until we talk to someone other than Kariander’s bunch.”

  “Get Omer! Get the skalavan squadron moving! Don’t just sit there, Sandy! Do something! Move!”

  The man was in shock. I put my life on the line and struck him across his face with the back of my hand. The impact threw the two of us apart. I rebounded off the bulkhead afraction of a second before Ali collided with the opposite one. I moved sideways because I saw Ali’s hand come down.

  His iklawa rattled off the bulkhead where I’d been.

  I grabbed a stool, ripped it loose from its velcro floor fittings, and held it in front of me.

  Then I pushed off toward him, driving hard with my legs against the bulkhead. Ali acted very surprised when I pinned him to the bulkhead with the legs of the stool.

  This time I had my iklawa out with its point at his throat.

  He acted as if he’d just come out of a trance. “Take your iklawa away from my throat. What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Trying to keep you from killing me, Ali,” I snapped, not moving my iklawa. “Get hold of yourself, or I’ll zero you right now and haul you down to sick bay where we’ll tranquilize you.”

  Alichin sighed. “I’m sorry, Sandy. I don’t know what happened to me.”

  “I do. You’ve got to learn to control it when you let it all hang out lik
e that,” I told him.

  “Let’s hope the rest of the people in the Commonwealth can let it hang out, too. There might be some hope for us.” I slipped my iklawa into its scabbard and moved the stool aside. I was still prepared to break his neck if I had to.

  Ali was breathing hard but had calmed down. “My apologies, Sandy.”

  “You’ve got ‘em.”

  “Let’s get busy. We’ve got to mount a space rescue mission to Vamori-Free. You and Omer can cover me; I’ll pilot one of the packets…”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean? Are you backing out?”

  “Ali, you’re in no condition to do anything like that, even if it would work—which it wouldn’t because we don’t know what’s happening there,” I said. “In fact, you’re in no condition to lead anything right now because you’re emotionally involved and you’ve never fought a war before.”

  “I flew Airlmpy tacair against the last Kangatu king in the Commonwealth Southwest.”

  “That was a police action. This is a civil war,” I countered, “Wars aren’t won by emotional generals or emotional civilians. For months I’ve been trying to figure out how and where I really fit into the picture. The General tried to tell me but I couldn’t grasp it because I didn’t know what this was all about. Now I do. I know my role. I’ll run this fight and win it. This is my show from now on. So follow me or get out of my way! Or I’ll take off this iklawa. Peter Rutledge may need me if you don’t.”

  Ali stared at me strangely, then took both my hands in his. “Sandy, it’s yours. You’re the warrior. I’m just a merchant manager. You’re one of us even though you haven’t taken a Commonwealth name yet. So I’ll give you one. I’m pleased you’re with us all the way, Induno Sendi Boldwon.”

  “Sendi Boldwon?”

  “When a person becomes a Commonwealth citizen, he usually takes the Commonwealth derivative of his name. My family name generations ago was Van Mora. The family names Stoak, Tatri, Teaq, and even Hospah derived from other names in other hands and cultures. Our forebears infused the best of their heritage into a common wealth of social background. But in a free society there can be no minorities. To become free and equal citizens rather than a mob of hybridized outlanders, they took new identities behind new names altered to a common pattern. You were an American, but now you’re a Commonwealth citizen all the way, Sendi.”