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Authors: Jr. L. E. Modesitt

Adiamante (29 page)

BOOK: Adiamante
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T
he next morning was sunny, unlike my mood, with a brisk wind swirling leftover snow across the lanes and creating a chill that left the tips of my ears fighting frostbite. I was late, and I should have stayed in Parwon, and even a quick-paced walk from the flitter and the locial tower to the admin building didn't improve my sense of foreboding, not when Keiko had warned me on the net about a large envelope left early by Majer Henslom.
“Majer Henslom and several marcybs arrived with a large envelope for you. It has the new agreement between the Vereal Union and Old Earth,” Keiko had reported over the net as soon as I'd touched down with the flitter. She added cynically, “The majer smiled a lot.”
“I'll bet.” Another gust of cold, cold wind brought water to my eyes, and a memory of a warmer season.
“ … golden autumn that will see no spring,
for whitest flakes will gown my grace,
and jewels of ice will frame my face.”
I'd have felt better with Morgen to talk to, to help, but all I had was memory and a soulsong to help me with our ancient cousins from across the stars, cousins so willful they could not see. Cousins even more willful than the ancient heroes my mother had bequeathed to me.
In effect, the cybs had ignored Kemra's ruins tour, the episodes with the prairie dog town, and my disarming of Major Henslom and returning his marcyb. Instead of analyzing the situation, they'd just boiled a new sea in Luna
and suggested that they could turn a good chunk of Old Earth into a polished replica of Al-Moratoros. As usual, they'd missed the point, almost as if on purpose.
I kept walking, my legs moving close to a run in my anger.
In the park, the statue of the mindblazed draffs gazed into the empty sky, another symbol ignored by the cybs. There were no monuments to military glory on Old Earth, no statues of conquering heroes or deceased politicians, and the cybs never asked why. They didn't ask why we preserved ruins or placed a Hybernium and a statue of a draffs in agony in every locial, and they didn't listen when told.
As I slowed my walk outside the admin building, I nodded to the restraint squad. There were several nods in return, and a few “good mornings.”
“Good morning,” I answered, although I wondered exactly how good it was going to be, with the envelope waiting for me. Wiping my forehead, I climbed the steps more deliberately.
“Crucelle, Arielle, K'gaio, Locatio—not to mention every locial rep who's awake—want to know what the cybs want,” Keiko informed me, her face almost as dark as the dark brown she wore. “And Miris has been up here three times.”
Her console was empty.
“It's on your desk—unopened, for my own protection.”
“I should have deputed you to open it.” I forced a grin.
“There isn't enough comptime credit in the universe to get me to do that.”
Keiko's assessment was about the same as mine. My only question was what kind of ultimatum the envelope contained, and how it was structured.
She closed the door behind me, probably because Miris was scrambling up the steps to accost me.
I forced myself to hang up the winter jacket before going to the desk. Even standing behind my desk, I took
a last look out across the park, knowing that everything was going to change and that I could do nothing about it, that everything I had tried had failed.
The pale brown envelope lying in the center of the Coordinator's desk was roughly twenty by thirty centimeters. I lifted it, trying to weigh it, but it didn't seem that heavy, and I guessed that the contents contained probably less than a dozen sheets.
“Ecktor?” pulsed Crucelle.
“I haven't opened it. It doesn't feel good, but I'll let you know.”
With a faint net hiss, he was gone.
I broke the antique wax-like seal and opened the flap. There were two documents inside. The text of the first was succinct.
If the government of Old Earth, as represented by the Planetary Coordinator, does not accept the full terms of the attached Agreement within twenty-four hours local time, or less, if deemed necessary by me, the forces of the Union of Vereal Systems will immediately apply Provision six.
That concise statement was signed by one Mathre C. Gibreal, Commanding, First Fleet, Union of Vereal Systems.
I didn't want to look at the next document, the one entitled: “Agreement between the Peoples of Old Earth and the Union of Vereal Systems.” But I picked it up and began to read the words on the parchment-like paper. Parchment was definitely suitable, since the text of the Agreement was modeled on something as antique as what it was printed upon.
When a people has been grievously wronged, deprived of home, hearth, liberty, and free pursuit of
happiness and destiny, its first duty is to ensure that such basic human rights are restored to all its members and to establish in the course of their reestablishment the protections of such rights. They have the manifest right and duty to redress any and all conditions which led to past oppressions and injustices. Such a duty requires that all prudent steps be taken to ensure that the perpetrators of such injustices never have the ability, the technology, nor the means of transportation to pose a threat to those the perpetrators once wronged.
Therefore, under the terms of the charter of the Union of Vereal Systems, any permanent agreement between the people of Old Earth and the Union of Vereal Systems shall incorporate the following provisions, as a minimal condition for the continued physical survival of Old Earth's peoples:
PROVISION THE FIRST:
The peoples of Old Earth shall provide at all times and in all places complete and open access to all communications systems, protocols, and associated technology, technical documentation, and systems design.
PROVISION THE SECOND:
The appropriate authorities of the Union of Vereal Systems shall supervise and ensure the deactivation and destruction of all satellite systems massing greater than 100 kilograms.
PROVISION THE THIRD:
The peoples of Old Earth shall surrender to the authority of the Union of Vereal Systems all aircraft
and spacecraft with a design capacity of greater than ten occupants.
PROVISION THE FOURTH:
To ensure that the conditions and tyranny which created the great human disaster known as The Flight are never reestablished, the peoples of Old Earth, under the supervision of appropriate authority of the Union of Vereal Systems, shall sterilize all adults classified as “demis” so that such adults are incapable of reproduction. Further, any child born subsequent to this provision, upon reaching physical maturity and being classified as a demi, shall also be so sterilized.
PROVISION THE FIFTH:
The peoples of Old Earth shall form a planetary government representing the draff population, provided that the actions of such a government shall be subject to review by the appropriate governing authorities of the Union of Vereal Systems. Provided further, such actions by the government of Old Earth may be modified and/or supplemented by the reviewing authority, and such revisions or supplemental laws will supercede any existing laws or policies.
PROVISION THE SIXTH:
Failure to adhere strictly to the provisions of this Agreement will subject Old Earth and its peoples to the full might and authority of the Union of Vereal Systems.
The so-called Agreement was worse than I'd anticipated, and I wondered if it had been drafted even before the cyb fleet had left Gates.
I pulsed Crucelle and Arielle, then K'gaio and Locatio,
knowing that even on uppernet, quite a few others would tap in.
“How bad?” Crucelle asked.
“It starts with a demand for total control of our nets and comm systems and gets worse.”
“How much worse?” inquired Arielle, her thoughts cool, collected. Yet stormlike power swirled behind the coolness.
“Destruction of the satellite system, destruction of any mass transport not under cyb control, and complete sterilization of all demis for eternity.”
Crucelle laughed. “No, they haven't changed. Not at all. Not even after all the blatant examples you threw in their faces.”
“What do you propose, Coordinator?” Even under stress, even in the middle of her night, K'gaio's words were like water-polished stones.
“We'll need a conference.”
“A conference? For what?” demanded Locatio. “What they've asked is absurd, impossible …”
“We need a conference. We have twenty-three hours or less in which to accept or face the force of their fleet.”
“But …”
“We need a conference, and I will be setting it up. Also, evacuation requests are to be disseminated in all locials immediately. Try to evacuate everyone, except for essential personnel, and complete all subsurface hardening. No final hardening yet, but get those evacuation requests out in the locials—all of them.” I paused. “Also, make sure all the magshuttles have pilots and are ready to be lifted into projected blast-free zones.”
“You're pushing it,” Crucelle protested. “That's going to hurt some—”
“Not so much as getting vaporized, burned, irradiated, or cut down with slugthrowers is going to hurt the draffs. And we'll need every shuttle we can get later.”
“His intuition has been as accurate as Arielle's calculations,” interjected Keiko, one of the first times she had presumed on a member of the representative committee.
“I defer,” Crucelle said, a bitter edge to his words. “I defer to the Coordinator.”
“But,” protested Locatio, virtually simultaneously. “Even thinking about that … now … without overt violence. I've got a headache, and some of my team's already non-functional from what you've done, Ecktor.”
“I understand,” I admitted. If Locatio or the Consensus knew what I were planning, more than a few would be non-functional, and Locatio had been one of the more aggressive ones. That was why Coordinators were necessary. “But—protecting people is part of the Construct, and so long as the evacuations are by the bullet lines, and not visible, that won't violate the Construct by encouraging cyb violence. They can't be encouraged by what they can't see.”
“The receiving areas will be cramped.”
“Very cramped,” I agreed. “Most people would rather be cramped than dead. Wouldn't you? I'm sorry. That wasn't appropriate,” I said, realizing that a significant fraction of the Consensus would probably die under the backlash, and that I could be one of them. So could Locatio.
“The Coordinator has called for a conference,” added K'gaio. “That seems reasonable. We have little time; so let us not quibble. Please keep us informed, Coordinator.” She left the net with a crisp click, making her point.
“Crucelle, if you would join me? Arielle?”
Then I left the net. Secure as I felt the net was, some things were best left undone in public.
“Keiko, see if the cybs will send two people down here to discuss this monstrosity, but don't call it that. Tell them we're convening a conference and will reply within the deadline.”
“Two?”
“I want Subcommander Kemra, and Officer Mylera.”
“Mylera?”
“She's actually a construct that represents organic subjective input to the cyb fleet's net systems. I'm not supposed to know that. You can also say that Commander Gorum would be welcome, but I'm sure they'll say he's not available.”
“You're sure of that?”
“Very sure.” I paused. “Have a groundshuttle waiting for the subcommander—that's if they agree to send her. We won't have much time.”
“You're sure of that, too?”
“Yes.” I was even more certain that we were running out of time.
“T
he demi Coordinator asked for the nav? And you let her go?” asked Ideomineo.
“No.” Gibreal laughed, and ice pellets flicked across the net. “I ordered her to go, with Majer Henslom and another marcyb detachment for her protection.”
“You calculated that she may have developed some reciprocal attraction to the demi?” responded the Executive Officer. “What about Henslom?”
“Henslom? He has already been discredited by the demi, and his usefulness is limited. He either redeems himself or he doesn't.”
“I suppose you feel the same way about Majer Ysslop?” Ideomineo's tone blew like a dry wind across the private link.
“I respect Majer Ysslop, unlike Henslom. I respect her so much that I have given her a most difficult assignment.”
“So … the most senior women in the fleet are on Old Earth? In the case of Ysslop, you fear her, and in the case of Kemra you're angry that she spurned you for the demi.”
“His physical attraction to her is minimal, if existent, but he is extremely persuasive, and I've been troubled by the direction of her recent observations.”
“You fear contamination.”
“Hardly. But there's no reason to protect it. This way, the demis will feel they are shielded during their so-called conference. They will not agree, and they are attempting to stall matters while readying their defenses. So we will strike before they expect it.”
“That analysis is flawed,” announced MYL-ERA. “Observations reveal no statistically significant changes in energy flows or activities of any installations.”
“So much the better,” laughed Gibreal. “Fewer will escape.”
BOOK: Adiamante
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