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[From Ambassador Trestogeen’s files. I apologise for such a large chunk of dialogue. RBB]
Yol Debert Indafark led Ambassador Yol Hareen Trestogeen and his deputy, Yol Terend Stograther through the chaos of the council reception area, where myriad aliens from some of the two hundred and fifty thousand Federation worlds carried out their council duties or looked around curiously as tourist visitors to the seat of government of the empire.
They approached a double door where an FEU guard in uniform stood. He, she or it was not a species which Hareen recognised. His, her or its plum purple skin contrasted with the juniper green of the tunic and the multicoloured feathers of the ceremonial helmet. Probably specially selected for size, he, she or it stood nearly three metres tall and was muscular with it. All four arms gently cosseted a weapon which undoubtedly could cause severe damage to life or property.
Beside him, her or it sat a slender male figure who was difficult to see in detail. He kept fading in and out of existence. This was a person from Terotone and they had mindreading and mind control abilities. They could also ease pain, grief and depression in other creatures. They were oft encountered and both Hareen and Debert were familiar with them. The Terotonian stood and briefly touched each of the visitors with his large, but slender, eight-fingered hands.
He spoke to the guard. ‘These are Councillor Yol Debert Indafark, Ambassador Yol Hareen Trestogeen and Deputy Ambassador Yol Terend Stograther. They have a meeting in fifteen minutes with the cabinet.’
The guard said, ‘Welcome. You may pass.’ He, she or it stood to one side, a three-fingered hand waved at a switch in the wall panel and the double doors opened inwards revealing a lushly carpeted corridor. They had passed security.
The end of the short corridor opened out into a plush reception area manned by a robot which bore all the similarities of a Daragnen, down to the shortness and the head which was almost part of the torso. The resemblance was so close that Hareen concluded that Daragnens must like anthropomorphising their automatons.
‘Please take a seat,’ it said and pressed an intercom button. ‘Gerady, the cabinet meeting at four is in reception.’
‘Acknowledged,’ a tinny voice was heard to say through the communication system.
None of the visitors had ever had an audience within the actual cabinet room of the president. Everything here was new to them.
A slight aroma of ginger pervaded the reception area, complementing its butterscotch carpet and buttermilk walls. Giant micro-thin screens filled almost every inch of space, and a continual progression of live images entertained the visitors. Each vista, lasting about a minute, was from a different Federation planet. Some showed preserved ancient buildings from pre-Federation days others, scenes of countryside with bizarrely coloured crops or trees. A variety of coloured atmospheres and moody, dusky scenes with giant worlds hanging in alien skies meant there was always something wonderful to watch.
‘Excuse me,’ said Debert, ‘is every Federation world represented in these moving murals?’
The robot replied, ‘There are twelve screens each portraying more than twenty thousand images so most worlds will certainly appear sooner or later.’
They watched a camera panning over a stunning seascape and it was followed by a smog of moss green which almost hid the few buildings looming in the background. Another scene showed a painfully scorched desert and it was followed by one of pewter glaciers and oppressive slate coloured clouds, transmitting rapid shards of lightning in every direction. It was quickly gone and a pastoral scene showed giant robot cultivators in fields of cornflower blue crops.
Hareen was almost disappointed when a large, elaborately carved door opened and a Clueb flew into the room. These coal black flying cherubs had the special talent of remembering everything which was ever said in their presence or seen by them. They liked nothing more than filling their minds with facts, figures, faces and situations. Cluebs habitual nosiness had created an enjoyable niche for them. Important individuals, like the president and some of the senior councillors, invited Cluebs to act as assistants and there was never a shortage of volunteers.
‘I’m Ya Gerady, President Dimorathron’s assistant. Please come this way,’ she said and flew at walking speed ahead of Debert, Terend and Hareen through the door into the cabinet room, her wings a blur of transparent gossamer. Once inside, she shot through the air and sat on a perch behind the right side of the president’s tank.
The room was grand; the central table constructed from polished rock, full of small aquatic fossils from some extreme otherworld past, forever frozen in this seat of immense power, which ruled with a velvet-gloved, benevolent hand. Around the table sat ten of the Federation’s most senior ministers. They were all well known by most people and were made up from a spread of councillors who rotated their roles every two to four years. The variety of aliens was remarkable in its diversity.
Also in the room, the vice president sat at one end of the table. She was a Purrs, a large blue apelike creature. At the other end of the table was the president. A strange spectacle, it was a budding creature, hence the honorific Ye. It lived permanently submerged in a silver tank which stood about one point five metres high and a third of a metre in diameter. The top was a transparent dome filled with a yam-coloured liquid. The president had a fluid shape like the body of an octopus. Its most prominent features were its two sunken eyes. The tank had many controls and dials and, from the centre of the front, a tentacle in a semi-transparent sheath waved the visitors into the room.
It pressed a button and said, ‘Come in, Debert, Hareen and Terend. Take a seat. It is so pleasant to see you and Gerady tells me that you have a concept which is going to lighten our dreadfully boring cabinet meeting.’
It laughed at itself fluidly and one or two of the others also made sounds of amusement.
‘Ye President, it is an honour to actually meet you after our many conversations by ultrawave,’ said Hareen.
‘I retire soon, Hareen and, I must say, I will be sad to miss the antics of the planet Earth which it has been our pleasure and pain to share,’ the president said and laughed again.
Hareen knew not to take the president’s lightheartedness too seriously as he had been told the creature possessed an uncompromising facet too.
The president continued, ‘So, what news of this planet Earth? I met some of the people not long ago and Gerady was telling me that I had an appointment coming up with President Spence of the United States of America, but I understand he died with the diplomatic team in the atomic explosion in that city – what was it called?’
‘New York,’ said Hareen.
‘Yes, New York, that’s the place. A shame. They all seemed nice people. Sad, and they’re all dead now except that, what did she call herself – an ordinary citizen – Gerady tells me that she was the only survivor.
‘Sorry, Ye President. I don’t know to whom you refer,’ said Hareen.
‘Gerady?’
‘Paula Wilson,’ said the black cherub.
‘Ah, yes,’ said Hareen. ‘I met her not long ago.’
‘Yes, we understand you have been, shall I say, rather elastic with some of the conditions of the Earth prohibition,’ said the vice president.
‘I have, but I needed to understand better the nature of the problem,’ said Hareen guiltily.
‘Ha ha, not so serious, please. We understand, but now you wish to empty the rulebook into the nearest nova. Is that right?’ said the president.
‘Perhaps.’
‘Okay. Let the serious business begin,’ said the president.
Hareen materialised his secradarve and had it display a Mercator projection map of the Earth, showing all of the nations of the world in deliberately contrasting, but not too solid, colours. The large screen was on the opposite side of the room. The cabinet members on that side swivelled in their seats to see.
‘This colourful map is Earth, split into its two hundred independent nations. The blue areas represent oceans, seas and lakes. The nations each govern themselves as if they were individual planets, although some like this bloc,’ the secradarve highlighted the countries of the European Union, ‘have loose associations.’
The map darkened so that the oceans and seas remained a lapis blue, the land masses all became pine green except for the rose-pink territories and mainland of the United States. ‘The largest area, which you are seeing flashing is the bulk of the USA,’ said Hareen.
‘That is another very large area at the north west,’ said a cabinet member.
‘Ah, yes, but it is not as large as it appears because of the Mercator projection. It is called Alaska and is sparsely populated. The other small rose coloured areas include the islands of Hawaii and Puerto Rico, and are territories controlled by the main USA.’
‘Yes, continue,’ said the president.
‘I believe it might be possible to allow the USA to remain completely independent of the Federation while the rest of the planet joins,’ said Hareen.
‘And what about each of the smaller territories and that larger one in the north east?’ asked another cabinet member.
‘They should be given a choice. Stay with the USA or join the rest of the world in the Federation.’
‘How do you feel about this, Debert? Is it practical?’ asked the vice president.
‘As long as there are strict borders, it could be achieved,’ said Yol Debert, ‘but I’d rather the north east area, Alaska, and the islands were part of the Federation as they could become very isolated. They might want to use their polluting transport methods to travel to and from them and that would not be acceptable as we bring the planet’s environment back to acceptable levels.’
‘Why can’t they use shuttles?’ asked another cabinet member.
‘We’re not intending the separate nation to have access to Federation technology,’ said Terend.
‘Ha, to let them know the rest of the world is getting benefits they are missing out on,’ said the president and chuckled.
‘In part, yes, Ye President,’ said Hareen.
‘Presumably,’ said the vice president, ‘there would be some interaction with the Federation sectors and that would mean some complex rules, similar to those we have with the loosely associated planets.’
‘There’s news this week that Cafi is joining after a referendum,’ said a fourth cabinet member.
‘Excellent,’ said the president with a chuckle. ‘We’ll all be a little poorer for a while. Detail, Hareen, what would happen with produce and currency?’
‘Debert, Terend and I have been through the economics with some advisors. It is believed that very little produce would move from the United States to the rest of the world. Anything they currently produce could certainly be acquired from the Federation territories. There are exceptions. Speciality goods like certain alcoholic beverages and spirits, speciality foods and so on. They could be purchased in border shops or online. Items exported in larger quantities, if that happened at all, could be distributed by us to their point of delivery. Their trucks will certainly not be allowed over the border for more than a few months.’
‘What’s wrong with their trucks?’ asked the vice president.
‘Pollution again. They use internal combustion engines. We’d make an exception for electric trucks, but they are few and far between,’ said Terend.
‘Ho ho,’ said the president, ‘They could set up an historic transport amusement park.’
Hareen continued, ‘Their other exports would likely be tourism. People would want to visit the United States in quite large numbers to see attractions such as your suggested ancient transport exhibits, museums, the Grand Canyon, national parks and so on.’
‘This is where currency becomes a problem,’ said Yol Debert. ‘How many afeds would people need to buy dollars. There would need to be an exchange rate.’
‘And what will they do with the afeds they receive for goods and from visitors?’ asked the president.
‘If the currency trading were only undertaken by the USA government, then afeds could buy any produce they wanted from the Federation,’ said Yol Debert.
‘Could they buy our technology? I’d be happier if it were only consumables they could purchase. You said you didn’t want them using shuttles,’ said a cabinet member.
‘Yes,’ said Hareen, ‘we think it would be a bad idea for them to be able to buy robots because they might use those robots to keep themselves in luxury, encouraging the manual workers to leave for Federation territory.’
‘What about tourism the other way? If they have afeds, surely they could enter the Federation territories and go anywhere. They could even fly here. Do we want that?’ asked the vice president.
The president said, ‘I’d have thought we’d have wanted as many of them as possible to visit territories on the Earth and other planets. Anyone who sees how good life is in the Federation can only return home with glowing reports of what their friends and relations are missing.’
‘That’s what Yol Debert, Yol Terend and I thought, Ye President,’ said Hareen.
‘See? I can’t imagine how this cabinet will survive without me,’ the president said and laughed out loud.
‘Ha ha,’ said one of the other cabinet members, ‘without doubt they will not be so much fun!’
‘Well, Hareen?’ asked the president.
‘We do think it will be good for the Earth and will eventually change them as they learn more about the economic system. Especially the ordinary citizens,’ said Hareen.
‘Yes, like, what’s her name?’
‘Paula Wilson,’ said Gerady.
‘Yes, that’s her,’ said the president.
‘There is a complication,’ said Hareen.
‘What, only one?’ asked the vice president, laughing again.
‘The president of the United States of America is the man who deliberately killed all of the Earth’s leaders, our first diplomatic team and several million of their own citizens. He will be escaping justice,’ said Hareen. ‘Secondly, there is a resistance group called Free America who want to overthrow President Slimbridge, and they will be rather annoyed if the country is isolated because we are not willing to tackle Slimbridge ourselves.’
‘I see,’ said the president more soberly. ‘If you are leaving them as independent, that has to mean you can’t interfere.’
‘That’s what we were thinking,’ said Debert.
‘What do we think? Show of hands, please. Yes?’ said the president.
Eight hands or feelers or tentacles reached into the air plus the vice president’s.
‘No?’
No one moved.
So,’ the president said, ‘you two are abstaining. Why?’
‘I am prepared to wait and see,’ said one.
‘I almost voted no, but decided it would be an interesting experiment to observe,’ said the other.
‘Okay, Hareen and Debert. You have permission to explore the possibilities. I’ll have my office appoint a couple of economists and a lawyer to assist,’ said the president.
‘We’ll also need permission for more interaction with the people,’ said Hareen.
‘Granted,’ said the president. ‘Thank you for asking this time! Anything else?’
‘Not right now, Ye President,’ said Hareen.
‘Meeting over then,’ said the president.
As Hareen and Debert turned to leave, the president called after them, ‘I will no longer be holding office when this gets underway. Hareen, please keep me personally advised how it all goes... if you live to tell the tale!’ He laughed as the three visitors stood beside the door.
‘Unfortunately,’ said Hareen, ‘I will probably have gone before you depart, Ye President. I’ve had my last regenerative spawning.’
‘Oh dear, Hareen. That is sad to hear. I didn’t know when I made my thoughtless comment about you living to tell the tale. I will miss you. Terend, will you undertake to keep me in the picture after I’ve retired?’
‘Certainly, Ye President,’ said the deputy ambassador.
‘Now go! We have much boring business to discuss,’ said the president loudly and then broke into laughter. ‘And a fond goodbye to you, Hareen. I’ll miss you and your interesting intrusions.’
‘Thank you, Ye President. Enjoy your retirement.’
««o»»
[From digital recordings and several files and biographies. RBB]
The atmosphere at the showground was full of anticipation, as was always the case when a presidential address was about to take place. Police in pairs circulated among the audience, occasionally stopping to speak to people and more rarely asking to see inside small bags or mini-backpacks. Less obvious were the individuals from the FBI, meandering unobtrusively throughout the crowd, listening and watching for anything which might result in a potential disturbance. Finally, the Secret Service operatives, noticed by no one, invisibly patrolled the entire assembly.
The roar of the engines of Marine One, the president’s helicopter, passed over the ground, lights blazing through the late afternoon daylight.
It touched down on the baseball diamond behind the stage and the powerful engines fell silent. No one could see the helicopter here, but they knew that President Slimbridge had arrived and proceedings were about to begin. The anticipation of the crowd was palpable.
The mayor of Baltimore climbed the six stairs to the stage and approached the lectern, attracting cheers and generous applause. He waved the sound down, but it took at least a minute before he was able to be heard. He cleared his throat, looked at his notes for the speech, which had been written for him by Matthew Brown, and began to address the crowd.
His enthusiastically supportive speech received thunderous applause. He turned to the right. From behind a curtain, President Slimbridge walked onto the stage to the most raucous support. Again, more than a minute elapsed before the mayor was able to welcome the president. The two men shook hands and hugged each other, the president raising an arm to acknowledge the support from the showground.
After even more hugging, handshaking and waving by both men towards the supporters, the president took his position behind the seal of office. Numerous camera crews and photographers made their way among the crowds, filming thumbs-up, smiling faces, cheering voices and adoring leaps into the air. This was exactly what President Slimbridge needed to boost his popularity. Fortunately, only he and a few of his closest advisors knew how low his esteem had fallen.
‘Hello, Baltimore!’ he shouted and was immediately drowned out by the cheering crowd. It was almost a minute before it calmed down enough to allow the president to continue.
‘Thank you so much, Baltimore.’ Another explosion of applause stopped him in his tracks.
‘Please, please quieten down,’ he said and walked back and forth on the stage waving for them to settle and listen.
Of course, that just fired off another bout of adoration. Eventually, it tailed off and the president returned to the microphone, delighted that Matthew’s strategy had worked so well.
‘Citizens of the United States. Thank you for inviting me to speak to you here tonight. I know how you’ve been fed misleading stories by the nation’s enemies and today I want to put the record straight.’
At that instant, eight gunshots rang out over the assembly. In seconds, Secret Service agents dived onto the president, slamming him down onto the stage, while another rushed on from off-stage and threw a shrapnel-proof mesh over the men on the floor.
In the audience, people screamed and dived for the ground. Others looked for the exits, while the army entered the park and began to search among the crowd for whoever had fired the shots.
While they searched, eyes concentrating on the people and the seating areas, no one was looking upwards.
Four relatively small drones rapidly arrived from different directions, hovered at about a hundred metres above the crowd and exploded.
But this was no high explosive designed to maim and injure; this was more like a muffled sonic boom. Thousands of tiny FREE AMERICA leaflets, just a few inches long and one wide were thrown outwards and upwards. The explosive sound caused everyone to look upwards. At that moment, projected downwards by the force of the blast, fifty gallons of pea-green indelible dye sprayed everyone in the showground. There was barely a face in the crowd which was not showing luminous evidence that FREE AMERICA had struck.
It was all seen on television. As expected, the broadcast was quickly shut off, but not before the green faces had been seen by the entire nation.
‘And so,’ said General Beech to the much smaller audience in the Ponte Vedra mansion, ‘Free America has indelibly stamped its intentions upon the country. The hornet has caused its havoc! We stung him good!’