Branegate

by James C. Glass

  The committee met regularly and held press conferences to inform the public about what models they were discussing. A pure democracy was ruled out immediately; without laws, checks and balances, anarchy would soon follow. But freedom of speech was a must, as was religious tolerance, two things that had been oppressed the most under the old regime.

  Models poured forth from the committee, Azar Khalil acting as spokesman to the press: presidents with power, presidents as diplomats and prime ministers with power, presidents with appointed or elected cabinets of ministers, a plethora of congressional models all poured out in a span of three months.

  In the meantime the everyday affairs of Gan were run by an interim cabinet of men who had enjoyed the trust of the people even under Osman’s reign: a military general, former ministers of labor, economics and interplanetary affairs, men whose advice had often been publicly ridiculed by the Emperor while seeming reasonable to the people. One of these men was Sadam Halek, and it was said that without his wisdom and advice the emperor would have long ago driven Gan into economic despair. He was the most visible man of the interim government, having been selected by his peers to serve as president.

  After a series of public opinion polls the committee chaired by Azar Khalil presented two models of government for a vote of the people: an elected president with elected congress of the people, or a figurehead president with elected prime minister and cabinet, and an advisory congress of the people. Polling places were established, and all citizens over eighteen were invited to register. Upon the public recommendation by Azar Khalil, amnesty was declared for members of the underground church, restoring them all to full citizenship and urging them to register and cast their vote.

  The turnout of eligible voters was eighty-nine percent, and seventy percent of them voted to have an elected president and congress to share power in the new government.

  Candidates appeared quickly; altogether there were twenty-five positions to be filled, and one of them was for president. Two candidates emerged for this powerful position; one was Sadam Halek, and the other was Azar Khalil. Since both men were respected public figures, a close race was predicted. Both were strong advocates of freedom of speech and religious preference. Both had records of fiscal conservatism and balanced budgets.

  There were differences. Sadam Halek was a strong proponent of interplanetary commerce, particularly with Galena, his nearest neighbor. Azar Khalil believed in a focus on local industry to create more and better jobs to build a stronger tax base. He also had some misgivings about relations with Galena, reminding voters of the rumored but unproven involvement of that planet in the plot against the Emperor. “I believe in strong interplanetary relations, but I will not tolerate off-world interference in our affairs,” he told them.

  Halek believed in moral values, but advocated a complete separation of church and state in the making of laws.

  Khalil’s case for morality in government was even stronger, and he revealed for the first time his personal belief in The Source and the moral laws first established by missionary Leonid Zylak for The Church of The Faithful.

  A prominent news reporter was contacted by an anonymous source giving him evidence that Azar Khalil had used his wealth to single-handedly keep alive an oppressed church driven underground. Voter registration centers were swollen with newly reinstated citizens for two weeks after the news appeared.

  Another reporter questioned Sadam Halek about his regular trips to Galena, and a report he’d met recently with the Emperor there. Halek gave a complete accounting of his business meetings on that planet, but denied any meeting with its Emperor. The news was reported two days before the election with the headline, ‘Candidate Halek denies recent political intrigue with Galena’.

  The election was held, and ninety five percent of those registered cast their vote.

  Azar Khalil received sixty four percent of the votes cast, and was sworn in as president of Gan and all its occupied territories. Following the ceremony, he attended the first public mass of The Church of The Faithful in twenty-four years, and was blessed by its Bishop.

  CHAPTER 22

  They were imprisoned for one month before visitors were allowed, and then it was only because Tatjana’s family demanded it.

  There was an apology from The Council of Bishops, but it was sent privately to Natasha Salizar, the eighty-year-old matriarch of the family. Her eight sons were the business minds behind a trillion sovereign a year empire, taking the place of their long dead father Carlos. One of those sons was Ernesto. And Tatjana Zylak was his daughter.

  “Your apology will be accepted when my grand daughter is released on bail,” said Natasha to the Archbishop when he called on her personally to apologize for the oversight. “I will not tolerate abuse of political power, even by The Church.”

  The presence of tiny Natasha Salizar was formidable, and the quilted chair she perched on was like a throne. Sky blue eyes blazed forth from a round face with pug nose and a small bow of a mouth rouged violet.

  The Archbishop swallowed hard, and said, “I sincerely regret the necessity of arrest, Madam. If the Zylaks had not returned there wouldn’t be a problem, but they represent a criminal government we fought hard to overcome, and we cannot allow them to remain free.”

  “Our previous government was inept, not criminal. Our economy is still a mess. Does that make The Church criminal? You spend your time flaunting power instead of tending to business.”

  “Madam, please be reasonable. Charges have been filed, but nothing has been proven in court. There will be a trial.”

  “Then why can’t our lawyer see his client?”

  “An oversight. It will be corrected immediately.”

  “Yes it will, and I’m giving you a list of other things to be corrected.” She reached into a folio in her lap, withdrew a sheet of paper and handed to him.

  “You should be pleased to note I’m not asking for bail if the rest of those things are done within a week,” said Natasha. “If they’re not, I’ll go public with my demands and I’ll release every piece of dirt my family has collected about The Church and its hierarchy.”

  “You’re imagining things, Madam. I must caution you about commiting heresy.”

  Natasha laughed at him, a deep, earthy laugh. “Oh, my dear, we control all information on this planet. Nothing can be hidden from us: the lies, the assassinations of those you claim are imprisoned, the agents and saboteurs you send to the other side and the military fleet assembling near the Grand Portal. You cannot even stabilize the economy of a single planet, but are vain enough to think you can invade, conquer and control another universe on top of it.”

  “The public will not believe such lies, and The Church won’t tolerate them,” said the Archbishop, and now he was angry. “Don’t think for a moment you’re immune from prosecution, or worse.”

  Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “Do not think you’re immune from harsh treatment. The Source will not protect you from the consequences of stupidity. I can make one call, and the Council of Bishops will be dead within a day. It’s already arranged if anything fatal happens to a single member of my family.” Her gaze was steady, voice cold.

  The Archbishop blinked, and cleared his throat. “I did not mean to threaten, Madam. Please, we’re saying things we’ll regret later. What you’re asking for will be done, and I’ll press for a trial in the near future. It’s the best I can do.”

  “I can ask for no more than that,” said Natasha sweetly, and lifted her ringed hand to be kissed. The Archbishop of Kratola kissed it grandly, and a servant arrived to escort him away from her.

  Natasha remained perched on her throne, and closed her eyes. The man is gone at last. Such impudence.

  The man has great power, Mother. Never underestimate it. Will he do what you say? The presence was strong, but came and went in her mind. Her son was doing something else at the same time.

  I think so. We’ll know within a day. Tell me when you hear something, Ernesto. They�
��ll never release her, you know. We’ll have to make other arrangements to get her back through the portal.

  I know, Mother. We’ll handle things, so don’t tire yourself worrying about it.

  A pause, and a tear crept into Natasha’s eye. Kratola is my home. I’ve always expected to be finally buried here, but now I think it might not happen.

  Leave it to The Source, Mother.

  That’s the problem. I think The Source will leave it up to me, just like your father did.

  The guards were kind enough, could tell them nothing, but ventured an opinion it could be many months before a trial. But why hadn’t their lawyer even visited them? And their family? Didn’t they have a legal right to visitors?

  This all changed thirty-two days after their imprisonment. Guards arrived in the morning, after they’d finished breakfast. Their cells were unlocked and they were allowed to embrace. The guards took them to another wing of the building. It was newer, cleaner, brighter.

  They were still inspecting their new quarters when a guard came for them. “You have a visitor,” he said, and motioned them down the hall. He took them to an interview room with tables and chairs and sat them down. Another guard armed with a high voltage prod was a permanent fixture in the room. They waited only a few minutes. The door opened, and their lawyer came in, a man they hadn’t seen since their hearing. He smiled, and sat down opposite them at the table. “Please tell me that things have improved for you this morning,” he said.

  “They certainly have,” said Leonid. “What happened?”

  Carl Osten leaned forward, looked at Tatjana and spoke softly. “There was a subtle nudge from your grandmother.”

  “I doubt if it was subtle,” said Tatjana. “That’s not Grandma Nat.”

  “Indeed,” said Carl. “The Archbishop himself has felt her wrath. At least your living conditions will improve, and you’ll have visitors. This is important. I’m afraid the rest of my news is not good. The trial will not be soon, and it will mostly be a public show. You represent the old government, and the Bishops will make sure you’re imprisoned for a long time.”

  “If things are so hopeless, then why are you here?” asked Tatjana, and her voice was sharp.

  “I’ll prepare the best defense I can and go through all the motions. I just don’t want you to have any illusions about what the final outcome will be. Your grandmother doesn’t believe this, but your father does. He’s waiting outside to see you.”

  “Father!” said Tatjana.

  “No matter,” said Leonid, and his face was flushed. “We’re not going anywhere, and we have a lawyer who’s already given up. You go through the motions and collect your fee, and we’re still here. What good are you?”

  “Leonid!” said Tatjana.

  “Well?” said Leonid, and glared at the man opposite him.

  “I understand your feelings,” said Carl. “Your family hired me; they can fire me if you wish. In the meantime I’ll do the best I can do under the circumstances.”

  “I’ve had enough of your understanding. Please leave,” said Leonid.

  “Fair enough. I’ll be back, if you’ll see me. Perhaps you’ll feel better when you talk to Ernesto.” Carl stood up, leaned over close and nearly whispered, “One way or another, you will not be spending the rest of your lives in prison.” He raised an eyebrow, then straightened up and walked to the door. The guard there let him out and instantly Ernesto Salizar was in the doorway.

  Tatjana gasped, “Daddy!”

  The man smiled, came over and sat down, reached across the table and took her hands in his. The guard rushed over and glared at them. “No touching. Let me see hands open.”

  They showed him. Satisfied, he went back to the door.

  “Good to see you, Ernesto,” said Leonid. “You’re young again.”

  Black hair and trimmed beard, dark brown eyes, yet the skin on the man’s finely chiseled face was like white porcelain. “Round two, just four years ago,” said Ernesto. “I see you’ve done the same. Brings back old memories, when times were better.”

  “I’ll say,” said Leonid. “The news we just got is beyond bad. Your lawyer gives us no hope at all.”

  “I wish I could say otherwise, but he’s probably right. The Church has the power to shut us down and take everything. I can’t get Mother to believe this.”

  “Then it’s hopeless,” said Tatjana.

  “The Church has to be brought down politically. We’ve started rumors. We have people everywhere, clear out to the Grand Portal. We’re kept up to date on everything.”

  “Rumors about what?” asked Leonid.

  “The spy network, here and elsewhere, the agents they’ve sent to the other side. It goes back to the time when the brane was first opened, and you went out on your missions. Church agents were right behind you, every world you visited. Two Bishops disappeared around that time. By the way, do you remember a document The Church issued to sanction your work?”

  “I remember a letter,” said Leonid. “All our old records are still on Gan.”

  “We need that letter,” said Ernesto. “The Church formally sanctioned your mission; they cannot legally imprison you for it now. But the letter has been conveniently lost here. It might be irrelevant; we don’t have the time.”

  Certain things must not be said aloud, and we may have said too much already.

  Really?

  Good, I thought you’d still hear me. Tatjana?

  Yes, Father.

  “Mother’s her usual angry self, which means she’s well. She’ll try to visit you later.”

  “Oh, tell her I miss her,” said Tatjana.

  When we sent word about the crisis here we didn’t expect The Church to take political control. Things have gone from bad to worse, and now the tentacles of the Bishops are reaching off planet.

  “Grandma misses you, too. She’s very angry about your arrest. If you’re abused it’ll go badly for The Church. We still have to abide by the laws, but maybe we can arrange an exile if things go badly at the trial. We’re working on it.”

  Taxes are going up, and business is a shambles. All the money is going into the fleet they’re assembling for an invasion through the Grand Portal. A crusade, they call it, spreading the word of The Source, but it’s all about power. I don’t see anyone stopping them, unless the Grand Portal is destroyed, and they even control that.

  Only on this side, added Leonid.

  “I wish now you’d remained here instead of going on those missions.”

  “There was no way to predict this happening to us, father.”

  Whatever. The family has discussed this; we don’t see a future for us as long as The Church is in power. We have our own small fleet. We can be out of here and light years away in weeks. Only our heavy manufacturing facilities would be left behind, and we can do well without them.

  “I still don’t see how we can be responsible for acts our government committed long after we were gone. Maybe we should renounce our association with that government, and renew our pledge to The Church,” said Leonid.

  Oh, that’s good. I hope they heard that. Anyway, the family is making plans. One way or another you’re getting out of here. Try to be patient a while longer, and behave yourselves. We don’t want visitation rights to be taken away.

  But if we left, where could we go?

  Our mineral surveys include several uncharted worlds within a hundred light years. And I’m sure you could find worlds on the other side that would take us in.

  One in particular, but it’s quite close to Gan.

  “I’m sure it would make a big difference if you did that and really meant it. Do you mean it?”

  “Of course. We don’t have any basic quarrel with The Church except for what they’re doing to us here.”

  Enough for now. We’ll get back to you as our plans develop. It might take months.

  “I’ll tell our Bishop what you just said. He’s sympathetic to your situation.”

  “When will G
randma Nat come?” asked Tatjana.

  “Soon, hon. Very soon. Be patient.”

  Their fingers touched, then a short handshake with Leonid as the guard frowned at them. Ernesto left them then, and they were escorted back to their cell. Their hopes were now higher than before. They were together, their physical needs met, and they had visitors.

  Nothing changed, and Grandma Nat never came to see them.

  The Church denied sanctioning their missions on the other side, said any new pledge they might make to The Church would be under false pretenses and was thus unacceptable. The trial was postponed once, then again, then set for an undetermined date in the following year.

  Four months after he’d first visited them, Ernesto came again and they made small talk about pressuring for a trial date. Their real conversation was short and private, and distinctly unpleasant.

  It’s no use. We have to leave. The Church now says there are irregularities in our tax payments, and has court permission to examine our books. It’s a prelude to seizure. They also have no intention of releasing you. We can’t break you out of here by force, but there’s another way. When did you have you last scans?

  Oh, no, thought Tatjana.

  On the ship, just before transit, said Leonid.

  Then we’ll have to do another one. It’ll complicate things, but we have inside help. Don’t ask for details. It’ll be soon.

  He left them astonished and afraid. They returned to their cell depressed, and waited for something bad to happen. In the morning a guard came to serve them a breakfast of hot cereal and rolls.

  By afternoon they were both seriously ill, and writhing in pain on their bed. The guards became excited and called a physician. He arrived and made a quick examination. “Looks like they’ve been poisoned!” he exclaimed, and ordered them sent to hospital.