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[From Ambassador Trestogeen’s files. RBB]
Pestoch, the ambassador’s home world was located in the same star system as Arlucian. The ambassador took the opportunity to spend the best part of a day in the sea beside his home. Pestochians needed to keep their bodies moist and it was a delight for him to live totally submerged whenever he got the opportunity. Usually, for Hareen, this meant in a freshwater environment on-board ship but, for this one afternoon and evening, he could enjoy the saline solution of his home oceans. This could be the last time before the spawning.
Clumsy and distracting when they stood on land, in the water they were completely different creatures, able to move quickly and gracefully, their scales luminous and vibrant, outshining their colours when on land. They had a surprising turn of speed and were not averse to consuming other fish on the fly.
The next morning, the Eskorav made the short hop from Pestoch to the capital planet of the Federation, Arlucian. From the spaceport, Hareen had plenty of time to get to the council chambers for his meeting with the president and cabinet. Direct materialisation in the council building was prohibited, so he used a taxi service.
The streets of Oridin, Arlucian’s capital city, were the usual chaos, but autonomous vehicles, able to communicate with each other, made easy work of the congestion until the final approach to the General Council building, the seat of government. Millions of tourists visited the council each year, plus an equal number wanting to visit their councillors to make points about life or the needs of their own worlds.
Hareen found it easier to use a hoverseat to move about within the complex rather than walking. Although Pestochians were familiar with walking, their balance not only left them short of energy after long walks, but also distressed anyone who saw them walking. The swaying motion could be quite disturbing to some other creatures.
Hareen entered the enormous, vaulted reception complex and robots at the main desk quickly located Yol Debert Indafark, the newly elected head of Earth’s section of the Orion Spur of the galactic arm. He had replaced Ya Prold Churbin who had been killed in the New York atrocity. The two creatures headed to a reserved meeting room off the main concourse, which was heaving with, literally, thousands of different species of creatures from Federation planets.
‘You’ve managed to get a meeting with the president,’ said Yol Debert, a short, stocky being with a large waistline, reminiscent of Tweedle Dee or Tweedle Dum. The illusion was quickly shattered because Yol Debert’s skin was gherkin green and contained a chlorophyll symbiote. He was covered in protrusions similar to hydra, each containing hundreds of sensory receptors and capable of releasing chemicals. When his species was meeting others, they had to hang a red chain around their necks to indicate that they were poisonous to the touch. A simple handshake could be fatal to some species. Lovemaking with each other, however, some researchers have claimed, is the most sensuous experience of any intelligent creature, often lasting for days on end and requiring extended recuperation.
‘Yes, Debert. The meeting is for three of us. My deputy, Yol Terend Stograther will be joining us too. I hope you’ll support my idea. So, firstly, I’d like to put the plan to you. It would be good if you were prepared to go along with it, as I don’t think a partial membership of the Federation has ever been attempted before. It would give me a better chance of getting it through.’
‘Right, Hareen. Fire away. You know that President Dimorathron’s term of office ends in a few weeks. He’ll find it difficult to endorse anything radical,’ he said, settling back into an orange half-globe seat, rather unpleasantly clashing with his skin colour.
‘Yes. My own time is even more limited.’
‘Sorry?’
‘I have had five regenerative spawnings, so my time is running out. I could be gone before the new president is in place and, anyway, they always take months to settle into the post.’
‘Okay, let me know what you have in mind. I didn’t know your personal situation.’
‘Cannot be helped,’ said the ambassador sadly. ‘The lifecycle of my species, but it certainly gives me an incentive to get this resolved.’
««o»»
[From News Media and Admiral Mann’s memoirs. RBB]
It was a major undertaking now whenever President Slimbridge decided to travel outside Washington, which had become a virtual police state with armed men and armoured vehicles on every corner.
Travelling to a rally in Baltimore was hardly any distance, but the president was becoming increasingly worried about the scale of the opposition to his presidency. This particular rally was made up of several thousand specially selected supporters of the president’s position. The idea was to record the rally for television and overseas broadcasts and to use anonymous videoed sequences to illustrate support in the future.
Matthew Brown had organised it well, so that there were over twenty independent camera teams giving different views and aspects to the crowd, the speech and the cheering.
It hadn’t been difficult to select the audience. The country was polarising. Anyone with hard right political views seemed to be against the aliens and the religious right had been encouraged to tack itself onto the belief that the Federation was an atheist as well as a communist regime. This wasn’t in fact so. The Federation supported all peaceful religions and only intervened if they were violent towards others. Many humans, however, couldn’t give a reason why they disliked the Federation. This was simply the natural xenophobic reaction experienced by some when encountering the unknown. A certain proportion of a population always reacted badly, whether owing to upbringing or some inbuilt fear like that of spiders or snakes. The rally, it seemed, would be made up of all of these fringe groups, but Matthew had added extreme xenophobes and racists to the audience. Fringe views then seemed to be being adopted by the mainstream. The majority simply believed their country was a takeover target and they were determined to resist at all costs, without any real understanding of how great that cost might be or even whether there was a cost at all. It was a natural progression caused by hearing only one side of an argument being promoted.
Matthew checked out the security arrangements with Mayor Lymington, but he’d already been around the field with Admiral Mann to ensure he could keep an eye on the new general who had taken over one of the joint chiefs’ roles. It should be impossible for the rally to be approached or for unrest to be stirred up during the event.
‘So, Mr Mayor. You will present your short speech as agreed, then introduce the president using the exact terms we discussed,’ said Matthew.
‘Don’t worry, Mr Brown,’ said the mayor. ‘I’m a supporter. I think John Slimbridge saved us from being invaded and taken over by communists. Can’t understand what Spence was doing, getting so involved with creatures from other worlds. How will the president arrive?’
‘We’re keeping the arrangements strictly on a need-to-know basis. Let’s just say that the baseball diamond behind the stage is to be kept clear.’
‘Right, okay.’
‘Now, you’re sure about your speech? No deviation,’ said Matthew.
‘Don’t be concerned. You can rely on me.’
‘Good. The president needs to know who his friends really are.’
««o»»
[From Brad Gregg’s and Jim Collins’ notes and recordings. RBB]
General Dick Beech stood at the front of an assembly of some thirty key figures. To his right, a television monitor showed the billionaire software guru, Peter Stone, who had been instrumental in keeping the Internet coming into the United States and ensuring some news from the outside world found its way into ordinary homes. A video camera mounted on a tripod recorded the meeting so that it could be sent to other groups.
The general banged a heavy glass paperweight onto the top of a nearby table. ‘Congressman, ladies, gentlemen, marines,’ he began. ‘It gives me great pleasure to call this first meeting of the FREE AMERICA organisation to order.’
The room fell into silence, the audience eager to hear what the general had to say.
‘Until now we’ve been a loose assembly of militia, spread across the country. Tonight, we take this to a whole new level, but firstly I’d like to welcome our leader, Congressman Charles Mayne,’ said the general, stepping to one side and the assembly applauded as the congressman walked over to take centre stage.
‘Thank you all for the support you are giving the cause,’ said Charles Mayne in his slow, deliberate, Boston accent. ‘I appreciate that you are all risking your lives by even being here. That will never be forgotten.’ He paused for effect.
‘Firstly, I want to assure everyone that, although I have ambitions to be president of the United States, this is not the way I would want to achieve it. You have my word, all of you, that when we have unseated Slimbridge, my presidency will be brief and, within six months, there will be a full election for a new leader. You, hearing me here today are the guarantee that this will happen,’ he said seriously, then he pulled himself to his full height, clasped his hands together and began the meat of his address.
‘We are not going to form full strength armies to overthrow the tyrant. That might have been the way to proceed in the eighteen-sixties, but today, with sophisticated weapons and tackling a madman who is even likely to use tactical nukes, a full scale civil war is out of the question. Too many good people would be killed or maimed.’ Again, he paused.
‘Instead, FREE AMERICA will become a thorn in the administration’s side. We will adopt the tactics of the Scot, William Wallace, rather than the massed armies of our nineteenth century civil war.’ Another pause.
‘Have you ever attended a barbecue in the late summer, only to discover a nest of flying ants or yellow jackets has awoken just in time for the festivities. We all know what happens. Grown men run around swatting the air and totally failing to strike a single one. The insects, however, have spoiled the party and may not have even bitten or stung anyone. It is the fear which spoils the party. We intend to use similar tactics to spoil Slimbridge’s party!’
‘Now, I’m going to hand back to General Beech who was also President Spence’s senior general prior to his retirement just over a year ago. The general is still fully in the swing of modern military thinking. He is the man who will help us free America.’ The congressman stopped talking, reached his hand towards the general and shouted, ‘FREE AMERICA!’
It echoed back to him and the general grabbed and shook his hand as calls of ‘Free America’ continued to ring out. It is amazing how loud fewer than forty people can be. Charles Mayne took his seat and General Beech, now wearing his jacket with six strips of multicoloured medal ribbons, pulled over a barstool and sat casually to address the leaders of his army.
‘Yellow jackets, wasps, hornets, no see ums, flying ants – all good analogies. We are going to bite or sting Slimbridge and his administration from every quarter. We already have Generals Braun and Burko in custody at a secret location. Have you noticed how neither capture has made the news?
‘As I speak, a Slimbridge rally is beginning in Baltimore. It is a staged rally and everyone there will have been vetted to ensure that they are a Slimbridge or anti-alien supporter. It is exactly the sort of target, the Free America organisations would be likely to select. What this means is that they will be putting a lot of resources into ensuring nothing goes wrong. We already know that there are armoured vehicles camped out near the venue and there is word that two battalions were on the move towards Baltimore this morning.
‘Huge resources and planning are being put into stopping any attack by Free America. But, you know what...?’ the general paused and looked around the faces which were hanging upon his every word. ‘We will strike them anyway and will do so in a manner that they will have prepared for, but is known to be the simplest to evade when professionals are involved. You will see the results live on TV in,’ the general looked at his watch. ‘In about thirty minutes.’
The general gave time for the information to sink in.
‘We are planning many similar events, and this is what makes the insect analogy so good. The more they prepare for us to strike, the more innovative we shall be and the more they will have to prepare for our next move. Our actions will drive them mad.’
Charles stood and joined the general at the front of the audience. He said, ‘We intend for them to be wasting so much time on trying to stop Free America attacks that will rarely happen, that they will be running themselves ragged. This is also where Peter Stone comes in.’ The congressman pointed at the computer monitor standing on a desk in the corner of the room. He pointed an infrared control to raise the sound level.
‘Good evening, everyone,’ Peter Stone said. ‘I am glad to be able to join you, even if it is only via the black net.
‘I have a network of Free America supporters who will be leaking information about the “attacks” which are being planned. They will always fail to provide the necessary detailed information to stop them and, of course, most will not even happen. The ones that do will be sufficiently accurate to ensure they are taken seriously, but be so misleading that the general’s men will be able to carry them out with little personal danger.
‘Almost half of the US population is now listening to our news programme, The Voice of Free America, which we transmit through the black web from Canada. It will never refer to the fake events, but when a real event takes place, like tonight, we’ll be sure to give them maximum coverage and inflate their seriousness.’
The general continued, ‘The overall strategy will increase the paranoia of Slimbridge and his key advisors, while giving the whole United States the impression that Free America is far larger and better organised than we actually are – no offence intended, Dick. The effect of paranoia on the enemy should never be underestimated.’
‘Now,’ said Charles Mayne, checking his watch, ‘let’s see what President John Slimbridge is saying at his Baltimore rally. Thanks for joining us, Peter. We know you need to get away now as you will shortly have a lot to occupy you.’
The image of Peter Stone disappeared from the monitor and the channel changed to the image of Slimbridge speaking to his massed supporters.