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It was an ominously quiet Chamber of Ministers.
The quiet was partly due to the emptiness of the room. Designed to hold sixty or more comfortably, there were less than two dozen in attendance now, half of which were the Primus’s personal armsmen.
Daria Pitt, the venerable Minister of the Treasury, sat at her usual place, seemingly absorbed in some report or other. Several seats away, Kreitzer Newling, the Minister of Technology, appeared relaxed, but whether that was genuine or a front was an open question. Next to him was Merry Patterson, the Assistant Minister of Technology, who looked to have taken on all of his concerns. Opposite was Michael Atkinson from the Ministry of War. He didn’t look any more comfortable than Patterson.
Intelligence Underminister Tal Phalkon stood confidently to the Primus’s right, though the two officials behind her, Doug Jones and Deborah Arnett, weren’t nearly as sanguine. They were both from Intelligence as well, and they technically outranked Phalkon. Unfortunately, they were firmly from the camp of the former Minister, Colin Dent, and with his shocking defection to the side of the Federation their lives were in jeopardy.
No other Ministers or officials were present, just a few minor assistants, staying as close to the shadows as they could manage in the well-lit room.
It was Phalkon who began the conversation, and on a surprisingly congenial note.
“Mr. Jones. Have you identified the members of this revolutionary cabal?”
“Yes, Ms. Phalkon.” Jones was the Director of Intelligence in the Ministry, though for the past half-year he’d been seconded to the Ministry of Security, MinSec, to overhaul its workings.
“The leader is Autumn Newling, a disgraced former member of the Production Ministry. She was interred at a Political Rehabilitation Center until this past January, when she and several others disappeared. What little evidence there was suggested she’d perished in the effort. That was obviously mistaken. The other members of this cabal were also incarcerated at the same PRC and escaped the same day. Sharon Mwangi is a career naval petty officer, retired several years ago and apprehended for her ties to a revolutionary group, Simon Jester. Nour Zein-Hutter is a former MinSec agent, tasked with infiltrating the same group. She performed admirably in that role until she was turned and arrested. The fourth, Caitlin Novak, served in the Foreign Ministry until her exposure to off-world cultures contaminated her.”
Phalkon counted the ministries on her fingers. “War, Foreign, Security, and Production. One of those seems off.”
“Newling’s ministerial background is largely unimportant,” Jones replied. “Her asset is her name. The others brought some connections, which explains their value.”
“What do we know about their organization? I presume it’s not this Simon Jester thing.”
“No, although we’re in the process of gathering all the known members of Jester. Newling’s organization is much more well-defined and security-conscious than Jester ever was. I believe I’ve shared all the information we have about them with you already.”
Phalkon nodded. “Yes, you had. I was wondering if anything new had been uncovered, since they revealed themselves.”
“No. Right now our primary countermeasure is to cut off Tycho Under from all the other warrens by shutting down the tube system and denying entry to Artemis City. Unfortunately, the tubes can be locally controlled from Tycho, which has allowed them to move freely. HKL and New Sydney have both declared allegiance to Newling’s cabal, and at least three others have made tentative noises of acceptance. Armstrong is firmly in our camp, but they’re at the end of the tube system and are vulnerable to being isolated.”
“Minister Atkinson, what is the status of the fleet?”
“The six Gemini frigates, two Apollo cruisers, and two Scimitar dreadnoughts are all functional. The crews are undergoing loyalty checks, so they’re not available for any missions at this time. The Union ships, I’m not as certain of their status.”
Finally the Primus spoke.
“Become certain, Atkinson. You only gained your position because Minister Phalkon assured me of your loyalty.”
She paused and examined the sparse gathering. Vasilia Newling was ruthless when it came to expanding and protecting her power. Her family, Newling, was descended from one of the original four colonists. Those Four Families ruled Artemis, and by extension the Solarian Union. The past two years had been trying for her, though, waging a war against the upstart Terran Federation while dealing with traitors and perceived incompetence in her Ministers. Now, though, she finally had opportunity to act decisively to seal her legacy.
“Look around you, Ministers. Look at the empty spaces.”
Dutifully they did so.
“We have become weak. Complacent. Soft. It is proven by the ease with which the Federation has seduced our turncoat politicians. It is proven by the rabble which calls itself a revolution. It is proven by the actions which we are now forced to take.”
She paused, enjoying the confusion all around her, confusion everywhere except on Phalkon.
“President Whitmore has been executed.”
An involuntary gasp flashed across the room, quickly suppressed.
“His family, all of his extended family, has been arrested for treason against the Union. As soon as Minister Pitt can arrange their trials, they will join the former President.” She nodded to Danna, who nodded numbly back. “In addition, all members of the Dent family, having proven their treachery twice over, are being apprehended as we speak.”
“The Council of Ministers, and indeed the governments of Artemis and the Union, have been dissolved. You who are here represent the loyal core of the new, reborn Union.”
She waited a few seconds for the shock to pass before continuing.
“Aunt Daria, you are the new Councilor of the Treasury. Your new duties will also include the former Ministry of Production.”
Pitt managed to say, “Thank you, Vasilia.”
“Minister Pitt, your new position is Councilor of the People’s Justice,” Newling said to Danna Pitt.
“The People’s Justice?”
“Yes. We need to assure our citizens of our benevolent intentions toward them; what better way than to have a councillorship dedicated to nothing but their justice and well-being?”
“As you say, Primus.” Pitt was grateful to still have a position.
“Atkinson, you are now the Councilor for Defense.”
“Defense?”
“Defense. It was pointed out to me that having a ‘minister of war’ sounds aggressive. Your duties, though, will not change. You are charged with the protection of the Union.”
“Yes, Primus.”
“Kreitzer.”
“Cousin.”
“You are Councilor of Technology. You will also absorb the former Ministries of Energy and Transportation and integrate them into your councillorship.”
“Yes, Primus.”
“Jones. You are Councilor for Intelligence, which will encompass both Intelligence and Security, as well as Education.”
“Education, Primus?” he asked.
“Education,” answered Phalkon. “If we are to prevent any further attempts at revolution, we need a population which is thoroughly and reliably indoctrinated from as young an age as possible. Integration of these three arms will ensure this.”
“I see,” said Jones.
The Primus turned to Arnett. “Your position is Councilor for External Security. You will work closely with Jones and Atkinson.”
“Yes, Primus, of course.”
“Primus, what of Minister Phalkon?” Jones said now. “You seem to have given away all her positions.”
“Tal is to be First Councilor, and she will direct the Council in my absence and in my stead. She will be the visible face of the Union of Artemis. Her duties will also include all interactions, when necessary, with foreign governments.”
The Primus seemed surprised by the lack of further reaction and said, in a somewhat aggrieved voice, “Aren’t you pleased? We can finally cut away the dead weight which has dragged us down for all these years and achieve our rightful place as the rightful leaders of humanity!”
“What of the United Earth government? And the Federation?” asked Arnett.
“Phalkon will be meeting with all of you to inform you of your roles in our plan,” Newling said. “Rest assured, Councilors. Neither the UE nor the Federation will be any more of a problem than my poor, deluded cousin in Tycho Under for much longer.”
Nobody said anything for a long moment. Finally, Phalkon stood and broke the silence.
“All rise!”
Obediently the new Councilors stood.
“Hail the Empress, Vasilia the First! May the sun never set on the Union!”
A ragged echo swept the chamber as Newling strode from the room.
“You might want to practice that,” Phalkon said with just a hint of menace, following the Empress out.