Sentience 1: Storm Clouds Gathering

by Gibson Michaels

  “So now we’re to blame for what Congress did over five years ago?”

  “Goddamnit, Bill, don’t play dumb with me. You know damned good and well who pressured Congress to enact the Alliance First bill.”

  “Look, Noreen, you didn’t hurt those people down there, and I didn’t hurt those people down there. Neither did Linda at the front desk in the lobby. You may be a Senior Vice President of a thriving major corporation, but we’re all just minor cogs in the great machine called industry. Congress passed the Alliance First law, regardless of who might have been exerting influence on the decision. They could have said no, but they didn’t. Congress made it law, so it’s Congress who’s responsible for the consequences of that law. “

  “So you really think I should just wash my hands of the whole sorry mess, and go on like everything is just dandy?”

  “You can’t save the universe. That’s all in the past. It happened. Let it go. I’d really hate to see you jeopardize your career, which WILL happen, if the wrong people hear you blowing off like this.”

  Chapter-19

  As they say around the Texas Legislature, if you can't drink their whiskey, screw their women, take their money, and vote against ’em anyway, you don't belong in office. -- Molly Ivins

  The Planet Sextus, City of Astin

  June, 3860

  “Mr. President,” intoned Chief of Staff Andrew William Smith, “I have here an urgent communiqué from President James Buchwald of the United Stellar Alliance, requesting that you come to Waston on a state visit as soon as it can be arranged into your schedule. He says it’s an urgent matter and he needs to have direct discussions with you privately.”

  Wyatt Eugene Cargill, president of the independent planet of Sextus, turned to his chief of staff and said, “What’s that you say, Andy Bill? Jimmy Buchwald wants to see me?” Wyatt Cargill was using his homespun drawl that endeared him to a majority of Sextuns and generally disarmed his political opponents, as it had a tendency to make them unconsciously consider him a buffoon. But President Cargill was nobody’s fool. Many of his political opponents had learned that lesson the hard way, as they found themselves squirming on the barbs of his homespun wit.

  “Yes, Mr. President.” Smith handed Cargill the communiqué.

  “Old Jimmy certainly has his tit stuck in the wringer, fer sure. The Alliance is falling to pieces around his ears and thar’s not a damned thing he kin do about it. Maybe ah’d better go see the boy and see what’s on his mind.” Cargill glanced up from the communiqué in his hand and looked at Smith. “What’s on tap for next week, Andy?”

  “Just routine, Mr. President. Nothing I can’t push back until after your return.”

  “Okay, good,” said Cargill. “Contact the Alliance Embassy and inform them I will be delighted to come see my old friend, President Buchwald, and that I’ll be arriving next Tuesday. Then call Admiral McCoy and tell him ta gas up ma travilin’ rig and give me a schedule that’ll put me into Waston on Tuesday morning.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. President. I’ll see to it immediately.”

  The Planetoid Discol, City of Waston

  June, 3860

  Wyatt Cargill sat in the Presidential Suite in the Sextus Embassy, wondering “why” Jim Buchwald had asked him to come all the way to Waston just to discuss a currency transaction normally handled by their respective treasury departments. Yes, it was a considerable amount of money they’d discussed. Jimmy wanted to buy $3 trillion US dollars' worth of Sextus’ gold bullion as a “hedge against inflation.”

  After a couple of hours of “haggling,” they’d finally agreed to a price of $1,500.00 US, per ounce of Sextus gold. That worked out to about 8,620 tons of gold. Yes, $3 trillion was a very large amount of money, but nothing that couldn’t have been handled through normal Treasury Department channels. Odd that Jimmy asked for the gold to be delivered by a Sextus military transport under Sextus Fleet escort to the US Federal Reserve Depository in Norlans on Lusia, Sextus’ closest inhabited neighbor.

  That annexation idea the Consortium was pushing had royally pissed him off for sure, just as Jimmy Buchwald knew it would. But, even that didn’t explain exactly why Cargill had been asked to come to Waston personally. Could it be that Jimmy didn’t trust his own Treasury Department and was afraid an informant would go running off to his Consortium masters, who would yank the strings on some congressional oversight committee and put the kibosh on the whole deal? Something damned odd going on here.

  An hour later, Cargill’s valet knocked gently on the president’s door. “Mr. President, Fleet Admiral Roger Kalis of the Alliance Fleet is waiting downstairs and would like to speak with you.”

  Ah, the gravy thickens, thought Cargill. “Send him up, Carl.”

  “Good evening, Mr. President.” Fleet Admiral Roger Kalis stepped through the door and approached the president of Sextus.

  President Wyatt Cargill stood and reaching out, pumped Kalis’ hand lustily. “Real nice ta see y’all again, Admiral. How long’s it been, 12-13 years now?”

  “Yes sir, I think it was ’48, just we were finishing up with that little issue you had going on with your southern neighbors.”

  Little issue, thought Cargill. Kalis was always a master of understatement.

  A well-armed major cartel from the Central European Compact had been setting up outposts within Sextus’ space, to use as bases for smuggling operations into Sextus and the southern Alliance. The Sextus Fleet dealt with the outposts as they sprang up, but finally tiring of the constant intrusions and the distinct lack of action by the Compact after repeated diplomatic protests, Sextus had launched a major military strike, obliterating the cartel’s main base of operations on one of the Compact’s primary planets. Sextus was never one to put up with bullshit for very long.

  The Central European Compact used this Sextus strike against the cartel as an excuse to declare war on Sextus, hoping to bring the planet’s riches, for which it was well known, under their control. The well-armed, but small, Sextus Fleet mauled the initial Compact invasion force, but at a 5-1 disadvantage, all of Sextus knew it needed help if the war drew into a long, protracted struggle. As Sextus pioneers had come from the same stock as those of the Alliance back on old Earth, ties had remained strong, even though Sextus chose to remain independent when the Alliance was formed. The Central Europeans had dreadfully miscalculated if they thought the Alliance would sit idly by and do nothing while Sextus was fighting for her life.

  Admiral Roger Kalis had been in command of the Alliance 2nd Fleet, when Alliance President Lawrence K. Pollack ordered him to reinforce Sextus against further Compact attacks. Afterwards came a brutal yet successful mauling of the Compact’s second, significantly larger, invasion attempt, during which Kalis lost 20 percent of his fleet. The Compact Fleet and accompanying spacefighters were virtually all of Russian design, so while slightly inferior to the Alliance equipment, they were still deadly and accounted for the surprising number of Alliance losses to a “supposedly” inferior foe.

  The Alliance congress then declared war on the Compact and President Pollack sent the Alliance 3rd Fleet under Admiral George Hudson to Sextus to begin formulating offensive operations with Kalis in overall command. Kalis’ losses were made up by reinforcements from 1st Fleet. With the elite, battle-hardened, squadrons of the Sextus Fleet also at his disposal, Kalis commanded a considerable force. Parts of the Alliance 4th Fleet under Vice Admiral Carl Bonner were also relocated to Louisa to provide support for Kalis’ offensive operations, as necessary.

  Kalis spent most of three years on Sextus in coordination with the senior officers of the Sextus Fleet and top leadership of the Sextus civilian government. He conducted a brilliant offensive campaign, beginning with the first actual combat assault drop of Alliance Fleet Marines against an aggressive planetary defense in Alliance history, in the taking of the Compact planet of Hungar, in early 3847. Kalis, never one to sit behind a desk, directed combat operations personally and was awarded his fift
h star, making him the first and only Fleet Admiral in Alliance history, at the surprisingly young age of fifty-six.

  While Kalis was engaged at Hungar, Admiral Hudson conducted operations against the Compact planet, Bulgar. Bulgar was a bit of a tougher nut to crack, as it had orbital forts in place. Hudson was forced to fight off a heavy Compact counter attack, that arrived from Romani, during his assault on the forts. Hudson suffered heavy losses, but managed to drive off the Compact fleet, and after reduction of the forts, Bulgar surrendered without further resistance.

  One Alliance fighter pilot who was of Russian descent and fluent in the Russian language swore he heard the “Central European” pilots speaking Russian — utterly confident it wasn’t one of the other Slavic languages he’d heard over his comm. This gave rise to the belief that it was the Russians who were really the instigators behind the Compact’s attempt to take over Sextus, while using the Central Europeans as a blind.

  Kalis ordered reinforcements from Vice Admiral Bonner’s 4th Fleet units at Louisa, to bolster the remnants of Hudson’s 3rd Fleet at Bulgar, while his 2nd Fleet awaited resupply from Sextus and conducted repair operations at Hungar. In late 3847, occupation forces arrived at Hungar from 4th Fleet, allowing Kalis’ rested and rejuvenated 2nd Fleet to move on to capture the Compact Capital at Romani, which surrendered after a relatively short but nasty fight with the remnants of the Compact Fleet. Forewarned against the possibility of Russian involvement, Kalis again found evidence of their participation during the Battle of Romani.

  In early 3848, the Central European Compact formally surrendered and under the terms of the ensuing peace treaty, agreed to relinquish their claims to the barely habitable, but uncolonized planets of Nemex, Ariz, Uta, Neva and their sparsely settled planet of Cali to the Alliance, in exchange for $4.6 trillion. All became Alliance territories, except for Cali which officially joined the Union as the 31st official Alliance member planet in 3850. The Russians of course, vigorously denied all of the “unsubstantiated” rumors of their having had any involvement in the war.

  Sextus owed the Alliance in general, and Fleet Admiral Roger Kalis in particular a great debt, and had owed it for some time. Cargill wondered if Kalis was here to collect.

  “Have a seat, Admiral. Can I get you anything? A brandy perhaps?” Cargill offered.

  “A brandy sounds delightful, Mr. President, but only if you’ll join me,” Kalis replied.

  Cargill’s right eyebrow rose slightly in surprise. He hadn’t really expected Kalis to accept his offer of the drink. Hmm… now this is highly unusual. “Now Rog, when did you ever hear of old Wyatt Cargill saying ‘no’ to the opportunity to have a drink with an old friend?”

  President Cargill filled two large brandy snifters to twice their normal, socially accepted levels and handed one to Kalis. As he sat, he raised his glass to Kalis in toast. “Here’s to old and dear friends.”

  Kalis returned the toast. “To old and dear friends, indeed.” They drank and both savored the sweet burn of Sextus’ most excellent brandy as it literally slithered down their tongues.

  “Now, is this purely a social call, or is something weighing on your mind that ah mat be able ta help ya with?” asked Cargill.

  “Something weighing on my mind?” responded Kalis. “Yes, I reckon there is something indeed weighing on my mind, Mr. President.”

  “Oh, stop with the ‘Mr. President’ bullshit, Roger. We’re alone and don’t have ta let titles git between two old buddies, now do we?”

  “I guess not. Going informal will certainly make this discussion simpler on me, Wyatt, and that’s a fact.”

  “Ah sees ya gots sumpin’ layin’ danged heavy on yer gizzard, Rog, so jes hoist that flag in the air and les see which-a-way the wind blows that sucker,” Cargill drawled.

  Kalis laughed. “I see you’ve been working on that drawl of yours, Wyatt. Sounds thicker than I’ve ever heard it.”

  Cargill grinned back at Kalis and replied, “And a rat powerful weapon it is too, whar Sextus’ politics is concerned. Dancin’ amongst them rattlesnakes, ah needs all the tools ah kin git ma hands on, if’n ah don wants ta git bit.”

  Kalis smiled back at Cargill and took another sip of brandy as he collected his thoughts.

  “Now, what’s eatin’ at ya, Rog?” Cargill asked quietly.

  “I assume you’re well informed about the impending crisis in the southern Alliance,” Kalis opened.

  “Hell, ah’d have to be blinder than a Northern politician if’n ah weren’t,” Cargill snorted. “And that’s party damned blind, seein’s how they all have their heads completely up thar asses. Ah’m surprised they ain’t all drowned in thar own shit ba now.”

  Kalis smiled. He’d almost forgotten how earthy Wyatt Cargill could be in private company. “Just between us, I’d like to hear how you and your government feel about what’s going on with all this Separatist business and talk of secession.”

  “Y’all would have ta be damned fools not ta git the hell away from those bastards, if’n ya kin pull it off. How much of the Alliance Fleet do ya reckon y’all kin git ta hang with ya, when y’all secede? Ten to fifteen percent maybe?”

  Cargill knew Kalis well enough to not question where his loyalties might lie in the impending secession crisis, fully expected him to assume command of whatever military forces the South could scrape together.

  “Closer to thirty-five percent,” replied Kalis.

  “Thirty-five percent!” yelled Cargill. “Did you say thirty-five percent?” Cargill had forgotten all about his drawl.

  “Yup,” drawled Kalis. “Maybe a bit more.”

  “My God, at 2:1 you’ve got a fighting chance!” cackled Cargill, as he clapped his hands in glee. “That’s the best news I’ve heard since the pigs ate my little brother!”

  “A confederacy, you say,” mused Wyatt Cargill. “That will leave the Southern planets pretty much sovereign. How do you expect to get them all to cooperate effectively without a strong central government?”

  “We’ll be using a slightly modified version of the Alliance Constitution, granting the Confederate central government very specific, but absolute authority over things like mutual defense, national court system to decide issues between Confederacy planets and the like, but reserving all other governmental powers to the individual sovereign planets,” replied Roger Kalis.

  “We used a modified version of the Alliance Constitution down on Sextus, ourselves. Incredible document — too bad y’all quit using it.”

  “We feel exactly the same way throughout the South, Wyatt,” replied Kalis. “That’s why we’re trying to get ourselves free from those Yankee bastards who don’t abide by it anymore.”

  “Yankees?”

  Kalis told him the story of how Joja Governor Jennifer Steele coined the term… the Consortium yanking on congress’ strings to make them dance whenever they felt like it.

  Cargill howled, “Yankees... By God, that’s priceless! I’ll put that one out and ever’ swingin’ dick on Sextus will be calling them Northern bastards Yankees within a week. You mark my words.

  “Thirty-five percent... I don’t know exactly how you’re planning to pull this off, Roger, nor do I expect you to give me details. Had anyone but you told me this, I’d be sending for the boys in the little white coats to come haul their ass off to the booby hatch.” Cargill’s drawl was totally forgotten by now. “Suffice it to say I believe you. Now, how can I help?”

  “First of all, you could route Sextus Fleet and civilian traffic away from the Helix Nebula.”

  “The Eye of God?” asked Cargill.

  “That’s the place.”

  “I won’t ask, but consider it done.”

  “As I was saying, we use a modified version of the Alliance Constitution ourselves on Sextus,” said Wyatt Cargill. “I’d sure like to see a copy of yours with those national/planetary delineations defined.”

  Kalis retrieved a standard data cube from his jacket pocket, and handed it to the Sext
us president. “It’s not ratified of course, but it has been approved by our entire working committee made up of the nine Southern planets that are expected to secede first, and thereby form the initial Confederate government.”

  “Sweet, I appreciate it, Rog.”

  “There are a few other things on the cube you might be able to help us with, if you would.”

  “Anything short of declaring all-out war on the Alliance, just name it.”

  “We’re going to need our own currency we can replace Alliance dollars with as soon as we can after the Confederacy is formally established. We’d like to follow Sextus’ example of backing our currency with gold, so our Confederate currency will have a relatively stable inherent value, rather than just float around subject to the whims of the international currency market the way the Alliance dollar does.

  “President Buchwald is quietly transferring gold and foreign currency reserves to Federal Depositories in the South, so we’ll have those assets available to us after secession, but we’ll need some kind of currency before that.”

  “Yes, in spite of the proliferation of computerized banking transactions, real in-your-hand money will never go away,” Cargill declared. “At least not, if I have anything to say about it.

  “But I see your problem, Rog. Timing is catching y’all by the short hairs. I can have our mints create the currency and coinage you’ll need, and guarantee complete secrecy in getting it done. Have y’all made up designs for the bills and coins you’ll need made?”

  “They’re on the cube.”

  “Good, I’ll get the designs to our Bureau of Engraving and Printing as soon as I get back. They’ll get the dies and engraving plates made, and then we’ll get those out to the mints to get production cranking. I’ll ensure we have specially selected and screened employees doing all the work, with equally screened Sextus Bureau of Investigation agents looking over their shoulders the whole way. How much total?”