by CJ Williams
Inside the pavilion, along with several of his staff, Tyler sat on a bench to the general’s right. His face was bruised and battered. On the general’s left were Chancellor Bo’erm and several of his similarly named associates.
At Luke’s entrance, Tyler looked up with a miserable expression. He tried to gesture for caution but the general barked savagely. One of the general’s guards rattled a spear in Tyler’s direction.
The general stood and directed a scathing glare toward Luke.
“You!” the general exclaimed. “You are the so-called warlord of these people?”
As Luke walked forward, he pulled a sawed-off Remington 870 from the makeshift holster strapped to his right thigh. He aimed it at the chest of the general and pulled the trigger. The man fell backward in a heap of bloody rags and didn’t move. Luke pumped the gun in the suddenly silent room.
One of the guards to the left of the dead general recovered and shouted in rage. He brought his spear forward. Luke fired again; two down. One of the ministers standing near the guard looked startled and touched his cheek. His index finger came away with a tiny smudge of red and the man fainted.
Luke turned toward another guard.
“Want to go for three?” he asked.
The man threw down his spear and fell to his knees in surrender. It set the example, and the half dozen remaining thugs followed suit.
Luke spoke to Tyler’s assistants seated on the bench. “Tie these guys up. My crew will take them from here.” The ambassador’s staff scrambled to comply.
George, come here, quick.
George responded instantly. On the way.
A sonic boom rattled the pavilion, drowning out George’s words.
I am here, Commander.
Luke turned toward Chancellor Bo’erm, but the man had keeled over in a faint along with several of his ministers. The remaining Jiguans in the tent clustered together, cowering anew. Luke decided to let them take care of themselves and went back to Tyler, who was still sitting on the bench. His face was filled with relief.
Luke greeted his friend. “You got quite a shiner there,” he observed. “Two of them, in fact.”
Tyler smiled but groaned in pain. “Thank God you came, Luke. His highness was about out of patience waiting for you.”
“What the hell happened?”
Tyler painfully moved his head side to side. “I’m just an idiot that’s all. One minute I was trying to come up with a way to reason with this guy and the next I was out of a job. I don’t understand how, but that damned smart box sucked up to the General like there was no tomorrow. These locals think that Toby is some kind of god. This whole thing was just a disaster. I’m sorry, I’m embarrassed, and mostly I am just so damned pissed. I wanted to retire here and do a little good.”
Tyler went on in the same vein for about ten minutes and Luke didn’t interrupt him. His friend needed to vent in a major way. Then the older man started to look a little woozy.
“You okay?” Luke asked.
Tyler looked puzzled. “I don’t know. I think I’m okay.” His eyes rolled back and he toppled forward. Luke caught him and lowered the old man carefully to the floor.
I need medical, George.
Seconds later two members of his crew rushed into the pavilion. One of them was a qualified medic. Luke backed out of their way.
There was one thing left to do.
“Joslyn? Where’d you go?”
“Here I am, Commander.” She was standing right behind him.
“Where can I talk to Toby?”
“This way, sir. The community access terminals are in the next building.”
She led the way out of the pavilion and across a well-maintained plaza. The public AI facility was decorated with the accoutrements of an ancient warrior culture. Luke walked into one of the booths. It was furnished with a desk and a viewscreen.
“Toby?” Luke asked.
“What the hell is going on over there, man?” Toby demanded. “Nobody’s talking to me.”
“Toby, I order you to self-destruct. Now!”
In the distance came a muffled boom.
George was upset. Commander, I would have preferred to study the faulty module.
“Sorry, George. Couldn’t wait.”
Seconds later, clods of earth fell to the ground outside the tent, littering the plaza with the last remnants of the idiot AI and bringing an end to the barbarian general’s short reign.
# # #
Three days later Luke held up a hand to forestall any further criticism from the Honorable Chancellor and Minister Plenipotentiary Bo’erm.
“I need a break,” Luke said. He turned to Tyler. “You need one too from the look of it. Let’s stretch our legs.”
The rest of the delegates to the Extraordinary Congress of Ministers regarding Extraterrestrial Affairs gasped at the informality of the sudden cessation. Luke ignored them and helped his friend to his feet.
Tyler was looking exhausted today. The medic had pronounced the ambassador healthy but not fit enough to attend a conference that went on interminably.
The medical opinion didn’t stop Tyler. He insisted that he had to attend. Luke didn’t try to talk the older man out of it, but remained attuned to his friend’s condition. Tyler had done well enough during the first two days, but the long hours were starting to tell.
Luke picked up the cane by Tyler’s chair, but the man brushed it aside. Together they shuffled their way around the curved wooden tables and out onto the plaza where a steady rain made the conference’s oppressive atmosphere even heavier.
“Want to knock off for the day?” Luke asked.
Tyler’s jaw tightened into a grimace when he shook his head; but it was clear that he was spent. Luke gestured to a nearby attendant, who hurried over to help get Tyler settled under the shelter of a gazebo in the plaza's center. Luke whispered an order and the attendant rushed off. He returned a moment later bearing a tray containing beakers of chilled fruit juice. Luke would have preferred Jack Daniels.
For thirty minutes, Luke sat with Tyler and enjoyed the scenery. The rain left irregular-shaped puddles across the plaza. Local birds with muted plumage flew down from the surrounding foliage to squawk at each other and flap their wings in the clear water. Others stood quietly in the tiny pools casting quizzical head bobs at the two humans.
The plaza had been cleared of the debris from Toby’s execution, and all physical traces of the general’s short-lived visit were gone. But that didn’t mean that the event was forgotten.
The news and muddled descriptions of Luke’s sudden appearance and the summary execution of the visiting general had spread like wildfire. A visceral condemnation was the most common reaction. Luke’s initial angry response to the criticism was tempered by Tyler’s insistence that he step back and examine the event from the Jiguan perspective.
The true circumstances of the general’s attempted coup were not generally known by the public. The population had been told that a wise man from a nearby planet of extraordinary culture had come to visit and perhaps join the alliance. That was followed by Luke’s appearance with a blazing shotgun and the murder of the visitor and his associates. To the public Luke came off as the barbarian, not the general.
Tyler convinced Luke to rein in his temper and attend the conference. Tyler had hoped for a reconciliation with the chancellor’s government but it hadn’t gone well thanks to several furious ministers.
Chancellor Bo’erm approached the gazebo, striding through the steady rain with dignity. As harried as Luke felt, the politician looked worse. The chancellor had argued futilely with the opportunists and elected politicians that served in his government.
Bo’erm gave Luke a questioning look as he stepped under the gazebo roof and saw that Tyler was not fit to continue. “Commander, perhaps it would be best if I spent the rest of the day in private with my councillors. Can we continue tomorrow?”
“The day after, I believe.” Luke advised.
&n
bsp; The chancellor looked pained, but nodded and hurried away.
“Thank God for that,” Tyler whispered feebly. “Don’t know if I could keep on for today.”
# # #
Four days later, the conference reconvened. A local holiday of importance had delayed an earlier resumption. The break helped Tyler’s recovery. He looked almost human and was ready to reengage with the ministers.
The weather turned cold and the pavilion was not centrally heated. The Jiguan custom was that nature, better than voluminous orders of protocol, would ensure governmental proceedings did not drag on unduly.
To ward off the inclement weather, George replicated a floor-length robe that was comfortably warm but the oversized hood gave Luke and Tyler a faintly monkish appearance. The ministers, on the other hand, were draped in luxurious robes adorned with elaborate sashes or badges of office.
On the chancellor’s side of the pavilion, several curved tables butted end-to-end, were filled with planetary officials. Behind them, the inevitable assortment of aides clustered together and scurried back and forth.
On Luke’s side, the single table was empty save for Tyler and Luke himself. Behind them, a few local attendants, placed there out of courtesy by the chancellor, hovered nervously. Periodically an attendant would replace Luke’s untouched goblet with a fresh one.
The chancellor opened the day’s proceedings. “Ambassador Robertson, we are pleased to see you looking so much better.”
Tyler nodded and mumbled a thank-you.
“If I may,” the chancellor continued. “Let me sum up the question at hand. The honorable members of this conference, delegates from around our world, continue to struggle with the question of our membership in an enterprise that is so permeated with violence.”
There was a general rumbling of assent around the pavilion before the chancellor continued.
“I have struggled to inform our delegates who were not present during the period in question,” he paused to cast significant glares at some of his associates, “of the malicious intent of the ruffian known as General Hwangje. I have not been successful in that effort. I am afraid that Commander Blackburn’s actions are being interpreted in the worst possible light.”
One of the delegates could not restrain himself. “Commander Blackburn? Don’t you mean Warlord Blackburn? His own people call him that. Do you deny it?”
Luke sighed and closed his eyes.
“Sorry about that,” Tyler said quietly to Luke. “You know how these things get started. It was all in fun at the beginning.”
“I know,” Luke replied.
“You see?” the delegate shouted. “It’s true. He does not deny it. How can we engage with such a person?”
Luke held up a hand and the room quieted. “I don’t deny it. Although the title is one given to me by my crew in jest.”
“In jest?” another delegate shrieked. “You joke about such things? How is this possible?”
“Ministers!” Bo’erm thundered. “Please do not speak unless you are recognized. The point has been made.”
“The point has not been made,” a delegate two seats down from Bo’erm shouted, rising to his feet. The side of his face was heavily bandaged to the point he could only see out of one eye. It was the man Luke had nicked with stray buckshot. Luke had seen the wound; it was barely a scratch.
“I saw the warlord crash into this very chamber,” the aggrieved delegate proclaimed. “I saw that enormous instrument of violence spit fire and death that ripped away the general’s very life in the most horrible fashion. And not just the general. He turned the weapon on an attendant who died right before my eyes. I was almost killed myself!” The delegate gently touched his cheek and groaned with pain.
The delegates burst into expressions of sympathy for their wounded colleague and dismay at the horrible situation in which they found themselves.
One of the delegates pointed at Luke, shouting, “This is why we demand that you appear now with an explanation.”
Luke felt a jolt of déjà vu. In his mind’s eye, he saw Congressman Morán from long ago, standing in the hotel conference room in Baggs, demanding that Luke appear in front of a congressional committee.
It was an epiphany. Luke leaned over to Tyler and whispered. “These guys are just congressmen. Why didn’t I realize that before?” Luke had never heard of a congressman that wasn’t on the take one way or another. To control a politician, you had to control their money.
Luke stood up and the room fell silent. Several of the delegates flinched as though Luke might pull out his shotgun and start blazing away.
“Chancellor Bo’erm,” Luke began. “First, let me say thank you for your hospitality.” He gave a curt bow. “Second, I want to emphasize that the alliance recognizes your sovereignty above all else. Your democracy is to be cherished by one and all. I perceive that your citizenry has grown tired of our presence so we will leave as quickly as possible.”
A general hum of pleasure ran through the assemblage upon hearing this news.
Luke continued. “Please return all of the replicators that we provided and we will depart. You should know that any replicators that are not returned will be given an order to self-destruct upon our departure. You are familiar with our self-destruct process, I believe.” Luke nodded in the general direction of the crater left by Toby’s demise.
“And lastly, I wish you the best of luck when the Bakkui, who recently visited your solar system, return.” Luke gestured to the large viewscreen he had previously installed for training purposes.
“As we leave, I invite you to take note of a planet we recently visited. The population was not as lucky as Jigu. George, please display the video from Bradley’s Planet. Let’s go, Tyler.” Luke helped his friend to his feet and led him out of the suddenly silent pavilion.
The video began playing, displaying the horrific images George’s drones had captured during the Bakkui bombardment and those taken afterward by Colonel Lindsey’s reconnaissance teams. In living color, the ministers could watch city after city smashed into rubble. Dead bodies lay everywhere, some blown apart, some crushed by the force of inconceivable destruction. Cries of horror poured out of the delegates inside. Most scurried frantically from the chamber to collapse in the rain outdoors.
Luke stooped next to one of the delegates who had rushed out to vomit on the wet pavement. “Tell the chancellor I’ll be back in five days to say good-bye,” he said.
“What are we doing?” Tyler asked.
“Giving them a reality check. George, come pick me up. Contact all of our ships in system and retrieve our personnel on planet. Everyone is going to spend the next five days on the local moon. And shut off all surface replicators immediately.”
“Acknowledged, Commander. What about the video currently playing?”
“Let it loop until we come back. There are several hours and they need to see it if they’re ever going to understand.”
“Command acknowledged,” George replied.
A sonic boom filled the air and the pavilion rocked once again from the warship’s thunderous arrival. George set down a few feet away and two members of the crew jumped out to assist with Ambassador Robertson.
# # #
Over the next five days, Luke and everyone else worked to establish a new base on Jigu’s only moon. Very prosaically, it was named Moonbase Two. The internal maintenance bay of the Ambrosia-class warship contained a twelve-foot-square replicator. George used it to create several of the stonecutters that had worked so well on Isaac Newton Gateway. By the morning of the third day, a modest hangar had been cut into one of the moon’s mountainous craters and force fields installed. Everyone now had comfortable quarters and a food court was established.
While the work progressed, George kept Luke up-to-date regarding events on the planet. There was no sound, but through a camera built into the pavilion’s viewscreen, Luke could see for himself what happened in the former conference chamber.
The room e
mptied quickly after Luke and Tyler left. Once the delegates realized what the video display depicted, they bolted in horror. The peaceful ministers had no stomach for such a graphic portrayal of a Bakkui strike
All except the chancellor ran from the reality. Bo’erm, on the other hand, sat quietly by himself and watched for several hours. In the late afternoon, he stood and departed. Luke was shocked by the change in the man’s appearance. He had aged visibly. He walked away, stooped over like a man crippled by hardship.
Late the next morning a young woman was the only one who returned. Luke did not recognize her and had not seen her at the conference.
“I think that’s the chancellor’s daughter,” Tyler said. “I met her a couple of times.”
She entered the pavilion tentatively, looking for anyone who might be present. Seeing no one, she stood alone in front of the video and watched the scenes of death. Luke marveled that she could stomach what the screeching delegates could not.
Her solitary figure was a pathetic sight. Time and again she crumpled to the floor to vomit until there was nothing left in her stomach. Each time she struggled back to her feet and until well after dark continued to watch the lost planet’s throes of annihilation.
The woman did not re-appear until the following morning. On the third day, at the same time that Luke and his people were enjoying themselves in their new food court, she returned. This time she was not alone.
Accompanying her were the delegates that had previously fled. They stood huddled outside the pavilion, in a long line as she called each one individually to take their turn before the viewscreen. The woman remained next to them, ensuring they witnessed the horrible ending to another planet’s civilization. Without exception, every single representative quickly succumbed to the imagery.
After a very brief period, only seconds for some, the delegates would rip a decorative pin from their lapels and frantically hand it to the woman before escaping the building. The next minister would then be summoned into her presence. By the end of the day, all of the ministers had capitulated.
