B00BKLL1XI EBOK (27 page)

“The problem is that the Nation is very different from Earth. It’s ruled by a devoted group of leaders that practice a hands off method of government while tying the Nation together with religion to create a sense of community. It’s so tightly woven together that we’d have to orchestrate a full scale civil war to undermine that. But we’re not going to succeed in that either because the High Command isn’t an overbearing force that clamps down on its citizens. We can scrape together a few power hungry demons, but they’ll never be able to get any traction or acquire enough firepower to send the Command into exile. We’ll just have to watch the Nation’s next move. You might be wrong about their plans you know...”

The sun rose over Earth’s capital city when the lockdown was lifted and the main power grid shut off during the battle to avoid damage to the power lines, was brought back online. People slowly emerged into the streets to find that nothing was disturbed. All of the fighting was contained within just one district so virtually all of the capital’s residents had no idea of what was happening throughout the night. People in some parts of the city saw the destroyer in orbit firing a shot into the city streets. They could even hear a few sonic booms. But that was all.

In the devastated district which played host to the bloody battle, a very different scene was illuminated by daylight. The pavement was in shreds, laying around in crumbles or embedded in walls of towers and skyscrapers as shrapnel. Buildings had shattered windows, their walls bore beep scars from the Nation’s weapons and the laser sharp, shearing claws of enraged spawns. The high rise brought down when the giant demon attacked Ace was spilled into the street, its neighbor left with a scarred north wall and shattered windows.

Standing on a chunk of concrete torn off from the collapsed high rise, Nelson looked at this devastation with anxiety. His robotic eyes could see the spawn cadavers laying under the rubble and streaks of burgundy blood spilled at random. The idea of explaining that all the spawns they slaughtered that night were a peaceful congregation of a famous firebrand pastor who hated the Nation didn’t sound so well.

Like every person with political experience, Nelson knew how to turn a tragic, bloody mess into a potential asset. As his mind calmed down and switched from battle mode, a plan started coming together. It was a crude idea and the Nation would have to take a risk, but it allowed the cyborgs to direct the energies of news reporters desperate for a sensationalistic scoop and venomous pundits, elsewhere. When he sensed that the camera crews were on their way, the fine details of his plan locked into place.

[ chapter _ 025 ]

Tina was eating breakfast when her phone rang. Like most residents of the city she had no idea what happened after the spawns went on a killing spree and tore through reporters, camera crews and police surrounding Pastor Lombard’s church. She didn’t see the destroyer’s death beam, hear any sonic booms or anything else for that matter. When the city finally unsealed her apartment, she decided not to turn on the news. Her decision was partly based on a wish for some peace and quiet for the first few hours of her day, and partly based on her distaste for TV news shows. As a political strategist who populated such shows with ideological pawns, she never trusted them.

But this morning her decision not to watch the news put her one step behind her client, an embarrassing gaffe. When her phone rang, she sighed and waited for it to ring three more times.

“Hello?” she said.

“Tina, have you seen the news today?” Grey asked anxiously on the other end of the line.

“I’m sorry Councilor, I can’t say I have,” she replied. “With that lockdown and everything... I’m sure you understand.”

“Trust me, you want to turn on the news now, then call me back, tell me what you think.”

“Of course, just a moment.”

Tina turned off her phone and with a wave of her hand brought a holographic screen into existence over her table which displayed a devastated street on one side and Nelson on another. Nelson was talking to the reporters swarming him from every angle, but she was too amazed by the carnage to pay attention. Cadavers, torn buildings and pools of congealed blood were things she had never seen in anything other than a movie.

As her shock wore off, Nelson’s words started separating into an understandable, clear message rather than the faint mumble her ears heard when her attention was fixed on the street. She started to listen to the Child and what he said made her yelp with joy.

“This disaster could’ve been avoided,” said Nelson to the throng of reporters besieging him, “if we had the ability to put destroyers in orbit around Earth. However, when we suggested doing that after the war with the Rexx, the Traditional Values Group protested, saying that the only reason we would want a fleet in orbit was for something too sinister to allow and started drafting the legislation to reduce how many ships we could have around Earth at any one time.”

“So Councilor Nelson,” asked a reporter, “are you saying that it was Councilor Newman and his allies who let this happen?”

“No, no!” protested Nelson. “I would never say that because that’s just not true! All I’m saying is that we would’ve been better prepared to deal with a potential invasion like this if Councilor Newman and his team tried to listen to our reasons instead of worrying so much about casting us as interstellar marauders on a mission to ravage the Earth. It might look odd that we could miss tens of thousands of soldiers headed for this planet, but you have to keep in mind that Earth is pretty big.”

“How would the extra destroyers help?”

“They would help to scan more space at longer ranges. When the traditionalist movement imposed limits on probes and other military hardware made by us in orbit around Earth, they created holes in the planet’s defensive perimeter.”

“What do you know about the fate of worshippers at the United Church of Revelation?”

“I’m afraid that the creatures you see here killed all of them. We want to extend our sincere condolences to the families of those who died at the hands of the Dark Gods and we promise that this atrocity will not be forgiven.”

“Does this mean that the Nation is officially at war with the alien species in question as of today? What do you plan to do to make Earth safe from attacks like this in the future?”

“As of today the Shadow Nation is at war with the Dark Gods’ empire and their proxies. As for what we can do to make Earth safer, I have to admit that our hands are tied by Councilor Newman’s allies and their legislature. We need permission to put more defensive and more advanced capabilities in orbit. We also need to sell weapons to the Earth’s military at a faster rate. Of course, taking into account the events of last night, it would be morally reprehensible for the Nation to profiteer through arms sales. This is why we’ll donate a cache of high teach weaponry as soon as we can get it to Earth.”

Tina leaned back in her chair with a satisfied smile. It seemed that the Nation’s leaders finally decided on a marriage of convenience with her client, his team, and the progressives. Not only that but they indicted Gene’s traditionalist client base of negligence. Nelson might have refused to confirm that Newman and his friends left the Earth vulnerable with their paranoia about the Nation’s intentions, but he said exactly that much and his words would be a terrifying weapon at election time.

She called Grey to bask in the moment. Victory was near and no matter what the neo-traditionalists did now, she could always tell her pundits how to put Newman and Co. on the defensive.

Across town, Gene and Newman had a different reaction. Newman’s face turned bright red as he watched Nelson pummel him for limiting the Nation’s military presence around Earth. The legislation the he’d use as a triumph card to show voters how he was working on making sure they were safe from any alien presence was now being used as a tool of verbal torture. All those meetings, long battles with the Child High Council and the faceless High Command intended to show how good of a guardian against alien forces he was, was now turned into a political noose that firmly tightened itself around his neck.

He sat in his office breathless from rage and worry, eyeing Gene who sat on the couch and watched Nelson’s interview with a perfect poker face. No longer able to watch, Newman waved his hand with a sudden jerk at the apex of the arc. The screen stayed on as if to spite the enraged Councilor. He tried again and the screen went blank.

“Fuck!” he growled and slammed his fist on the table. “So Gene, what are we gonna do now? Grey is gonna nail our nuts to the walls thanks to that freak of nature! Can anyone blame me for trying to get some limits in place for an alien armada that wants to set up shop on Earth? And what about Jerry and Renee? How are they gonna run for the Council now?”

“Rage won’t help here,” replied Gene. “What we need to do is to apologize and make sure that people know that you had their security in mind all the time. It’s just that you weren’t so trusting.”

“Can I ram that asshole Nelson for this shit?”

“No. You have to say that you understand the he was in the heat of the battle and said some things he might not mean. If you drag this down into a slugfest, you throw your own reelection and you ruin the chances for Jerry and Renee. They’re facing three progressives with good credentials and we can’t undermine their chances because your ego gets the best of you and you get pissed off every time Nelson or Ace say something negative.”

“Well...”

“Well nothing. You have to have thicker skin than that. You work as a politician for God’s sake.”

Gene used the ensuing silence to collect his thoughts and analyze the situation. Grey wasn’t up for reelection. Newman and two others were, Councilors Anderson and Roy. Until the Nation arrived, those three seats were supposed to have been up for grabs by anyone since all three planned to retire. Now, two months prior to election, the six candidates for the open Council seats were nominated and given just seven weeks to run ads and solicit votes.

Really, such short campaigns were for the best since most of the time, the Councilors were forced to work rather than campaign. They would have less than two months to convince anyone they made any progress and so they had to rack up accomplishments and get things done quickly and efficiently. Having to deal only with city governing boards, the laws were made quickly and were often devoid of riders and amendments because there was rarely enough time to add them.

In this election, Anderson and Roy were still leaving their seats, putting them up for grabs by anyone who could win the primaries. In Newman’s case, a progressive was challenging the incumbent. When it came to fresh politicians challenging incumbents, the incumbent’s track record usually spelled doom for the newbie. But in this case, it looked like the progressive challenger could have a shot. Newman’s antagonism towards the Nation was very unpopular among centrists, businesspeople, and the military. Everyone wanted the cyborg’s cool gadgets and everyone was secretly hoping that medical technology to turn human bodies into a fusion of durable organics and machinery would be sold soon enough.

They would need to back down and play it really smooth, toning the outright antagonism down to a skeptical acceptance. Their slogan would change to “we like them, but we’re watchful” rather than their previous talking point, “let’s get rid of those alien freaks of nature.”

“We can’t do that,” balked Newman after Gene gave his opinion.

“If this is about your ideas that...”

“No, forget that. We’ve been telling people for a year about the negatives of the Nation and steamrolling them with insults. Anyone with access to the web or a TV recorder could go back and bring this up so we’d look like liars.”

“First of all, people only care about what’s on TV now, not what was there a few months, much less a year ago. Secondly, your loyal constituents agree with that you say before you say it. If we tell them that two plus two equals fish, their only question will be ‘what kind of fish?’ We either ignore the critique from the progressives or say that some pundits are going too far with our message, but our point has been consistent all this time. We just don’t trust the Nation 100% and that’s all.”

“What about the moderates?”

“What about them? They don’t care. Hell, they don’t even vote.”

“What if they do?”

“That’s a big if. The moderates don’t want to play politics and in the last sixty years we haven’t heard anything from them. Why care so much about people who won’t even come to the polls? There’s an entire core group that will vote how we tell them so they’re our asset and not those who don’t even watch political talk shows anymore.”

“Ok Gene. Let’s do it.”

“I’m gonna have to change up the ad mix and I only have a week to get it done.” Gene shook his head in annoyance. “You know, this little stunt is just a marriage of convenience for the Nation. Grey and his strategist tried courting them for months with fancy houses, huge expense accounts and lavish perks. The Nation took them and didn’t do so much as help the progressives. Suddenly, they’re giving them a political nuke on global TV. Something just doesn’t add up.”

“Could we maybe say that instead?” perked up Newman. “That’s a lot better than swallowing our words and doing a 180.”

“No. The realm of conspiracy theories is better left closed.”

Gene said this coldly, his tone meant to remind Newman to keep silent about his own conspiracy theories regarding the Nation. He got up and went to the door. He had a lot of work to do to reign in all his rabid media pit bulls. The normally violent and vicious attack ads of election time had to try to get at least some tone of civility this year.

For the next few days, he distributed new talking points to soften the harsh, confrontational tone that was the trademark of his pundits and reverse their stance on the Nation. As expected, the progressives lashed out at Newman for being chauvinistic, paranoid and negligent at the expense of thousands. They didn’t buy Gene’s new tune, using past columns and video clips to call neo-traditionalist personalities liars.