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[Taken from a copy of Cabinet minutes, conditionally released early to me (Rummy Blin Breganin) by the Federation Cabinet Secretary when I told him it was research for my books. They are normally kept secret for fifty years. Because the following is taken from minutes, it is a considerable block of dialogue. I have removed almost all names and job titles to simplify it. RBB]
‘We have to give Ambassador Trestogeen a concept policy,’ said President Dimorathron to the fifteen members of the inner cabinet.
‘These barbarians have killed an entire diplomatic team. Surely it’s unprecedented?’ said one of the group.
‘Well... there was the case of Garrstend,’ said another.
‘That’s delving deep into history,’ said the President. ‘That was more than two hundred years ago.’
‘Did it get resolved?’ asked another.
‘Yes. They reapplied and complied the second time and there was no violence. At least, not like this,’ said yet another.
‘The group who carried out these murders must be punished.’
‘How can we punish them without punishing their whole world?’
‘Ha. They killed millions of their own kind to take this action. Surely something is wrong with the entire species!’
‘The punishment must not physically hurt the people.’
‘How can we do that? Not being members of the Federation will hurt almost everyone. There were thousands dying of starvation in a place called Sudan before this occurred. It won’t get any better now.’
‘Well, we can’t continue membership discussions with such creatures.’
‘Okay, colleagues, we are going to have to provide a punishment which their whole population will realise was caused by the rebels’ violence,’ said the president.
There were several calls of ‘Agreed.’
‘I’d still like to get some emergency aid into the famine regions,’ said one.
‘We can’t put our own people in danger!’ replied another.
‘Right. How about we shut them off for a while? Isolate them?’ asked the president.
‘The way we did over Operiom?’ asked another.
‘Oh, yes. The plague planet,’ said yet another.
‘Well, yes,’ said the president, ‘but in that case we had teams of medics assisting them. It was more of an unfortunate quarantine.’
‘Something along those lines.’
‘Trouble is that the people who did this actually want isolation, so we’re rewarding their actions.’
‘That’s a good point, but we have no choice really.’
‘Let’s ensure there is a way back for them – a way for them to contact us and start over.’
‘Yes, that’ll do it for me.’
‘Okay. Isolation with a route to future membership?’ asked the president.
‘Yes, and leave a few spybots on the planet to keep an eye on changes within their political systems,’ said the Cabinet Secretary.
‘I’ll inform Ambassador Trestogeen,’ said the president.
‘Is there no way we can drop emergency aid in the famine areas, Ye President?’
‘I’ll ask Ambassador Trestogeen to look into it. It should be possible to send in supplies on a drop and leave basis,’ said the president.
««o»»
[Taken from Ambassador Trestogeen’s files. RBB]
‘Commander Wukkundi, you will be responsible for carrying out the plan. Is everything clear?’
‘Yes, Ambassador, my FEU team can carry it out within a day or so, once you give the command. We’ll also organise some freighters for provisions drops in the famine areas.’
‘Okay. Do it.’
««o»»
[Taken from official FEU files and body-worn cameras. RBB]
Commander Ya Dustul Wukkundi, looked resplendent in her FEU uniform, her eight feelers each protruding from braided sleeves. She stood in front of her force of twenty-four volunteer operatives. The briefing had been long and detailed. Some of the Federation’s largest freighters were already en route from Ecisfiip, fully loaded with provisions. Finally, the squad was ready to take action.
The stealth rapid-reaction vessel, Hidome, left the Ronoi’s vicinity once the ambassador had come on board to monitor the Isolation Policy of the Federation. The Ronoi had been Ambassador Moroforon’s flagship.
The Hidome changed orbit and was soon sitting alongside the International Space Station.
‘Human Space Station, please respond,’ said the commander.
The space station sat silently for several minutes, navigation and interior lights giving the only sign of its habitation.
‘Ian Watson here, ISS commander. How can I help?’ was the message which came through after twelve long minutes.
‘They’ll have been asking NASA what to do,’ said the ambassador to the commander.
‘Yol Watson, I am Commander Wukkundi of the Federation Enforcement Unit on board the Hidome. You are aware of the recent murders of our diplomatic team?’
‘We are, but had no hand in it. We are a peaceful research facility only.’
‘Nevertheless, my orders are to remove your space station from orbit. How long will it take for your crew to leave?’
There was a break of almost ten minutes.
‘Yol Watson, please respond.’
The silence continued for another three minutes. ‘Commander Wukkundi, the ISS is a non-partisan, international scientific research facility. It plays no part in the defence of the planet and has no political leaning,’ said Ian Watson.
‘How long will it take for you to leave the space station? Our orders are not subject to appeal.’
‘To do so in an orderly manner would take about a week. An emergency evacuation would take a day,’ said Ian Watson.
‘You have forty-eight hours commencing now,’ said the commander.
The Hidome dropped into a lower orbit and began destroying satellites. Detection beams located working and derelict equipment in orbit around the Earth.
What was called an “aconstik net” was released. It comprised an electronic network which held its shape as it moved through its retrograde orbit. Everything it encountered was slowed down enough to force it to drop out of orbit. The process would be complete and orbits of up to two hundred and forty miles cleared of satellites and old space junk within ninety minutes. The population was about to be treated to a stunning show of shooting stars.
Once that was complete, the Hidome raised its orbit to a geosynchronous location where a second net was deployed to destroy all satellites from three hundred miles to thirty thousand miles in altitude.
From that point, the commander began search and destroy tactics to locate larger satellites like the Hubble, Kepler, Tess, and others. By the time the Hidome returned to the ISS, all Earth and moon orbital satellites were destroyed, larger ones being flung sunwards for eventual burn up.
‘ISS. Please confirm you have evacuated the space station,’ said the commander.
There was no answer.
‘Lieutenant, check the space station for signs of life,’ said the commander.
‘Yes, sir,’ said the lieutenant, saluting and leaving the bridge.
A few minutes later he returned and advised that the only life signs were a container of bees.
‘Bring the bee container aboard, check they are safely contained. Tell me when that’s done.’
More waiting.
‘Bee container on board, sir.’
‘Captain, calculate the vector needed to have the ISS fall into an isolated section of ocean.’
‘Done, sir.’
‘Push it into that trajectory.’
‘Done, sir.’
All of a sudden, the radio came to life, ‘Attention Commander Wukkundi of the Hidome. This is Prime Minister Church of Great Britain. What are you doing? Our weather, communications and global positioning satellites are no longer responding.’
‘Ambassador?’ said the commander.
‘Prime Minister Church, Ambassador Trestogeen here,’ said the ambassador. ‘All will become clear shortly.’
‘We want to make it known that it was a small group of violent Federation-sceptic politicians and military men who caused the explosion. Most of the people of Earth were absolutely horrified,’ said the prime minister.
‘I will contact you in due course. Over and out,’ said the ambassador.
From the bridge of the Hidome, they watched the International Space Station tumbling gracefully as it dropped out of orbit to meet its destiny in the Antarctic Ocean where any remnants which didn’t burn up would be unlikely to encounter any shipping.
‘Take us to Moonbase, captain,’ said the commander.
The Hidome swung away from Earth and headed towards the pale disc in the distance. In a few hours it began procedures to hover above the human outpost.
‘How many lifeforms, captain?’ asked the commander.
‘Ten humans and twelve chickens.’
‘Beam the humans to reception room two and the chickens to the hold. Lieutenant, ensure the chickens are properly caged,’ said the commander. ‘Captain, as soon as they’re aboard, explode a stamp bomb over Moonbase and destroy all other transmitting equipment on the surface. Once that’s done, return us to Earth orbit.’
[A stamp bomb flattens anything underneath it. RBB]
««o»»
[Taken from Ambassador Trestogeen’s office files and video. RBB]
The Hidome took up a position in orbit directly above London and the ambassador made a call to the British prime minister.
‘Glad to hear from you, Ambassador Trestogeen. Can we talk about this situation?’
‘We have some property to return to you and also wish to explain our position,’ said the ambassador.
‘Would you like me to call other heads of state to meet with you? There is also a new secretary general of the United Nations.’
‘No. I will speak with you on the ground. Be sure there is someone to record the event. You will be expected to distribute the recording.’
‘Are you intending to harm us? We know you have been destroying satellites and the ISS. Also, communication has been lost with Moonbase. The astronauts are not involved in the politics which caused this situation. We all feel dreadful about the explosion and will do all we can to put things right.’
‘I will arrive in Horse Guards Parade at fifteen hours GMT. Be sure to have the area cleared. Thank you. Out!’ the ambassador said.
««o»»
[Taken from Ambassador Trestogeen’s office files and BBC video archives. RBB]
A grey mantle of cloud was releasing its relentless cargo of rain in bursts, varying between a light drizzle and a torrential downpour. Although well drained, Horse Guards Parade was accumulating a thin lake of water such that, during the heavier falls, the water bounced many inches back into the air as if trying to avoid potential disaster.
The prime minister stood with a heavily armed military squad. She and Britain’s UN representative were protected by large umbrellas as the unrelenting rain did its best to drench them. Nearby, a BBC film crew was also cowering under a number of multicoloured parasols, more in keeping with the seaside in summer than a sombre political encounter taking place before the English winter had completed its miserable cycle. It was as if all the world’s tears were falling in one cascade to grieve over the UN atrocity.
The rapid-reaction ship decloaked about two hundred metres above and descended at elevator speed to a location ten metres in front of the prime minister. Suddenly, no rain fell within thirty metres of the ship. A doorway opened.
The ambassador descended the floating stairway from ship to ground level, his fishlike appearance almost complementing the wetness of the day. Behind him were several armed FEU soldiers and Commander Wukkundi. They lined up opposite the prime minister’s party as if to begin a macabre game of chess.
The atmosphere crackled for a moment and, to the left of the ambassador’s party, a gust of wind materialised as a cargo of ten astronauts displaced the damp air which had been occupying the space. They looked around in surprise at their unexpected arrival back on Earth. One staggered at the unexpected increase in gravity. Almost simultaneously, a small compound of chickens filled the space to the ambassador’s right and beside it appeared a table bearing something resembling an aquarium containing bees. Another table materialised beside the ambassador. It held a machine with monitor and keyboard.
The ambassador moved forward to the prime minister and one of his finlike limbs was offered to be shaken. Maureen Church looked at it, as if unsure what to do, then she took it and shook it gently. The ambassador bowed and moved back about a metre.
‘I am Ambassador Yol Hareen Trestogeen. Behind me is Commander Wukkundi of the Federation Enforcement Unit.’
‘I am pleased to meet you. I am Prime Minister Maureen Church. This is our UN envoy, Caroline Stoddart.’
‘I have returned your astronauts from your moon, plus their chickens and a collection of bees which were left behind on the International Space Station. All life is precious to us, even that of the simple bee.’
‘What can we do to put things right?’ asked the prime minister, ‘What compensation can we offer for the dreadful UN tragedy.’
‘Prime Minister Church, do you know some wondrous technique whereby we can bring Slindo Merofort back to life and return him to his grieving wives and children, or Lyl Lindron to the person she was to marry in four weeks’ time, or our Ambassador Moroforon who was on only her second assignment for the Federation? Her husband and family are distraught, as are the families of the crew who died. The community of Cluebians of whom Heldy Mistorn was a key member cannot come to terms with her loss. Perhaps you can advise me what words I should use to comfort the family of Councillor Churmbin who died with her unborn child and had been providing her time to the people of Earth for no reward other than the satisfaction of helping a neighbouring species find its way within the galactic community?’
‘We are so sorry, Ambassador Trestogeen,’ said the prime minister.
‘Humankind seems to be proficient in offering apologies, but not really understanding the depth to which their actions have stooped. The group who took this action demonstrated very clearly what they felt about the lives of people, Earthly or Federation. Millions of your own people were killed and an area of the world was made uninhabitable for decades. We have been monitoring a radioactive cloud spreading eastwards and we can see US government forces assisting with the evacuation of even more millions of innocent people from their homes. No doubt they will say something like, “Sorry, but it was necessary!” to those who will live poorer lives because of their actions.
‘Well, Prime Minister, sorry is totally inadequate, I’m afraid. The Federation president and his cabinet have decreed a punishment, the details of which I am here to provide to you.’
The ambassador handed over a document to the prime minister.
‘This is a prohibition notice served upon your world for the murder of a Federation diplomatic team,’ said the ambassador.
He opened his own copy and began to read:
FEDERATION PROHIBITION NOTICE
Owing to the actions of a rebel group on Earth in the Orion spur, which caused the murder of an entire Federation diplomatic team plus several million human beings, the president of the Federation and Cabinet have decreed the following action:
The planet, known as Earth, has demonstrated its unsuitability to enter the community of worlds which live in peace in this part of the galaxy. Isolation from space is the punishment.
1. All space exploration by Earth is prohibited.
2. All existing satellites and other space craft have been or will be destroyed by the Federation Enforcement Unit.
3. It is illegal for Federation citizens to land on Earth.
4. It is illegal for Federation citizens to contact Earth.
5. Any use of QE transmitters is prohibited, and such transmitters will be destroyed when detected.
There is one exception to item 5. A special QE transmitter is provided. It is set to a single frequency which can only contact Federation Members’ Administration on Arlucian.
By Order of the Federation Cabinet 34/2/745816
Cabinet Secretary.
The ambassador closed the document.
‘There are of course many pages of small print, but to summarise – your space-faring days are over. When you are ready to apply for membership in the future, you can contact us on the QE transmitter. Do not contact us unless you intend to join, all nations have agreed, and you have a single leader.
‘Prime Minister, we’re sorry – there’s that word again – for all the human lives which will be shortened or be less pleasant than they would have been if membership had been completed. Your initial suspicions about us, particularly by the late President Spence are, in part, a cause. We should have deployed spybots to ensure action by the likes of this Slimbridge could have been detected and prevented, but Ambassador Moroforon decided that if you’d become aware of them, there could have been a paranoid adverse reaction. That was a regrettable and fatal mistake.’
‘Ambassador,’ said the prime minister, ‘is there no other way of dealing with this. The heads of state at the UN were about to vote hugely in favour of joining. For that to be stopped by these evil individuals seems to be an overreaction. The wrong people are being punished. In fact, you are rewarding them. They are getting what they wanted. Isolation.’
‘I will pass that comment on, but the situation in the United States of America today has not changed,’ said the ambassador. ‘Slimbridge is still in control and has crushed all opposition, even shutting down the media. Why have you not dealt with this? He and his ilk are those who are causing this prohibition, yet you allow them to continue to hold power, over a week after the event.’
‘We are unable to take action, Yol Trestogeen,’ said the prime minister. ‘America has cut itself off from the rest of the world. They have threatened massive nuclear retaliation if they are attacked. There are enough nuclear missiles on all sides for the world to be destroyed.’
‘There, in a nutshell, is Earth’s problem,’ said the ambassador. ‘You must put your own house in order. Prove it by living peacefully, ridding your planet of weapons and using the funding saved to deal with famine and inequality. It should only take a decade and you can then reapply.’
‘I don’t know if we are capable of doing that without thermonuclear war overtaking us. Please don’t abandon us in this way,’ said the prime minister.
‘I am but the messenger. Put your house in order. It is in your hands. Please advise the famine areas of your planet that some robot freighters will be delivering Federation aid over the coming days. Goodbye,’ the ambassador said. He turned and entered the ship followed by the FEU squad and the door closed.
A few seconds later it lifted into the air, reached about one hundred metres and vanished.
The human party, with its puzzled astronauts and clucking hens, were, once again, standing in the rain. The prime minister and UN envoy dismissed the guard, refused any further press interviews, and entered the rear door of Number Ten, wearing expressions of devastation.
««o»»
[Taken from secret White House tapes, a practice reintroduced during the Trump regime. RBB]
In the Oval Office, the sound of jeers and chanting penetrated the usually adequate soundproofing. President John Slimbridge sat with General Braun, who had promised the protests would end.
‘Any minute, sir,’ said the general.
Both men rose from their seats and opened the door to the rose garden causing the crowd noises to grow in volume. General Braun looked at his watch.
Suddenly, volleys of shots rang out over the White House and the chanting turned into screaming. Within minutes the sound from the crowd was fading into the distance. A few more shots and peace reigned again at the White House.
‘Thank you, General,’ said the president, and the two men returned to the chesterfield to continue their discussions.