The End of All Things: The Third Instalment (2 page)

The
Tubingen
acknowledged my hail and reported that it would begin in ten seconds, and that I should keep clear the beam.
I agreed with this and acknowledged the warning.
The capitol building was directly below me now.
My BrainPal lit up a column that represented the incoming beam.
If I were to wander into the path of the beam I might be uncomfortable just long enough for my brain to register the pain before I was turned into a floating pile of carbon dust.
That was not on my schedule for the day.
I kept myself well clear of its path.

A few seconds later my BrainPal visualized the high-energy beam, pulsing on and off faster than my eye could register, vaporizing a three-meter hole in the roof of the legislative chamber one micrometer at a time.
The goal was to create the hole without shattering the roof or vaporizing the legislators directly below the beam.
At this juncture of the mission we didn’t want anyone dead.

Path cleared,
I thought.
Time to make an impression.

“Here we go,” I said out loud, found the hole, and dove for it.
I waited for the last few seconds to deploy my nanobots into a parachute form, braking with an abruptness that would have killed an unmodified human body.
Fortunately, I don’t have an unmodified human body.

As it was, I dropped through the hole with enough velocity to make an impression, and to make my combat unitard stiffen to protect me from the impact.

There was a thump, and a mess, and a general cry of confusion as I seemingly appeared from nowhere.
I raised myself up from impact position, looked at the elderly gentleman stunned to see me, and smiled.
I had landed on the speaker’s podium, directly behind his desk, exactly where I had planned to.
It’s nice when a bit of political theater such as the one I was about to attempt starts out so well.

“Speaker Haryanto,” I said, to the startled man.
“A genuine pleasure to meet you.
Excuse me for just one second.”
I reached behind me, took the drone off of my back, and activated it via my BrainPal.
It whirred to life and rose directly above my head.
While it was doing so, I looked down through the floor—the speaker was wearing pants and had opted to keep his podium transparent, though tinted—and saw Powell, Lambert, and Salcido, weapons up, drones deployed, cautiously being encroached on by capitol security.
They weren’t in any particular danger, or at least any that they couldn’t handle.

That done, I unstrapped my Empee, placed it on the speaker’s desk, and invited myself to the microphone, into which Speaker Haryanto had been intoning mere seconds earlier.
I had my BrainPal pop up the notes I made earlier, because I knew I would have to give a speech.

“Speaker Haryanto, representatives of the Franklin global government, and all the citizens of Franklin who are watching this singular legislative event, at home or wherever you may be, greetings,” I began.
“I am Lieutenant Heather Lee of the Colonial Defense Forces.
I do apologize for my abrupt and unscheduled entrance to your session today, but time was of the essence.
I bring you a message from the Colonial Union.

“The Colonial Union knows that today—in fact, right now—this chamber has begun a vote to declare independence from the Colonial Union.
We also know that this vote is hotly contested, and is likely to be very close.
This is for good reason, as your independence would leave you vulnerable to the predations of any number of alien species who are even now watching, as we are, the result of your vote.

“Through standard channels the Colonial Union has made the government of Franklin aware that we are opposed to this vote.
We feel it is dangerous not only to the people and government of Franklin, but also to the Colonial Union at large.
We also maintain that such a vote is illegal and that Franklin may not, through legal means, separate itself from the Colonial Union.
These points have proved to be unpersuasive to many of you, hence this vote that Speaker Haryanto was about to commence.

“You may believe that I have come here to stop this vote on behalf of the Colonial Union.
I have not.
The representatives of Franklin, or at least the minority required to bring this vote to the floor, have asked for this vote.
The Colonial Union will allow it to proceed.
What I am here to do is make you aware of the consequences of this action.”

I paused for effect, just long enough to make them wonder about the consequences, and then began again.
“During the lead up to this historic vote, some of you in this chamber—in a manner you believe fitting, given that the name of this colony is taken from the United States of America revolutionary figure Benjamin Franklin—have quoted the United States’ Declaration of Independence, and specifically how you, like those revolutionaries who signed that document, would pledge your lives, your fortunes, and your sacred honors to your own independence.

“Very well.”

I pointed to the drone hovering above my head.
“As I have been speaking to you, this drone has identified and targeted every representative in this room, and has fed the information to a Colonial Union ship, which by now has trained high-energy particle weapons on each of you.
As the Colonial Union has already declared that this vote is illegal, if and when you vote for independence, you will be offering up an act of treason to the Colonial Union.
In doing so, you will lose your sacred honor.

“As you will be committing treason, the Colonial Union will freeze all your financial accounts, to restrict your ability, or the ability of others, to commit further treason with them.
So you will lose your fortunes.
And once you vote, confirming your treason, you will be summarily sentenced to death by the Colonial Union, with the sentence to be carried out immediately; as I said you are already tracked and targeted.
So you will lose your life.

“Now, then,” I said, turning back to Speaker Haryanto.
“You may proceed with your vote.”

“After you have threatened all of us with death?”
Haryanto said, incredulously.

“Yes,” I said.
“Or more precisely, after the Colonial Union agreed with the principles you have already set out—that this action was worth your life, fortune, and honor.
What you may not have expected is that it would cost all these things as quickly as it will.
But these are not the days of the American Revolution, and the Colonial Union is not the British Empire, an ocean and several months away.
We are here now.
It’s time to find out who among you is willing to make the sacrifice for independence that you have declared you will make.
Time to find out who means what they say, and who was simply posturing because you thought your posturing was consequence free—or at least, consequence free for
you.
”

“But you won’t give us our independence even if we vote for it!”
someone yelled from the floor.

“Is this a
surprise
to you?”
I asked.
“Did you not think there would be a struggle to follow?
Did you not believe the words you said?
Or did you believe the repercussions of your actions would be shouldered by others—by the citizens who will be pressed into service to defend the so-called independence you wish to give them?
The fellow citizens of Franklin who will die by the millions as other species claim this planet for their own when the Colonial Union is not here to defend it?
Where did you think
you
would be when that happened?
Why did you think
you
would not be asked to answer for your vote?

“No, my dear representatives of Franklin.
You are being given an opportunity.
You will be called to answer for your actions
before
any other citizen of Franklin.
You will not evade this responsibility, as much as you may wish it.
Your vote is being broadcast across this globe.
You cannot hide now.
You
will
not hide now.
You will vote your conscience.
And your fellow citizens will find out now whether you believe their so-called independence is worth
your
life.”

“So, let’s begin,” I said, and nodded to Haryanto.
“You first, speaker.”

* * *

“We’re off the clock now, yeah?”
Lambert asked.

“Since we’re on the shuttle back up to the
Tubingen,
I would say yes,” Salcido said.

“Then let me question the usefulness of that last stunt of ours.”

“I don’t know,” Powell said.
“The declaration of independence was unanimously defeated, the entire planet of Franklin got to see its legislators revealed as cowards looking after their own skin, and
we
didn’t die.
I thought it was pretty successful.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t successful,” Lambert said.
“I said I question its usefulness.”

“I don’t see the difference,” Salcido said.

“The success of the mission depends on whether we achieve our mission goals.
We did that—like Ilse said we killed the vote, embarrassed the politicians, didn’t get killed, and reminded the entire planet that the Colonial Union can come along and stomp them anytime it wants, so don’t screw with us.
Which wasn’t explicitly in our mission parameters but was the subtext of the mission.”

“Wow, ‘subtext,’” Powell said.
“For a former janitor you’re using big words there, Terrell.”

“This former janitor has a rhetoric degree, asshole,” Lambert said, and Powell smiled at this.
“He just learned he could make more money as a janitor than as an adjunct professor.
So yes.
Successful.
Great.
But did it address the root causes?
Did it address the underlying issues that required us to have to take the mission in the first place?”

“One, probably not, and two, do we care?”
Powell asked.

“We should care,” Lambert said.
“We should care because if we didn’t, then one day we’ll be back here dealing with this problem again.”

“I don’t know about that,” Salcido said.
“We stomped on that vote pretty hard.”

“And we did it with a single fireteam,” Powell said, and then pointed at me.
“Plus the fact that the Colonial Union sent a mere lieutenant to deal with a vote of global consequence probably said something.
No offense, Lieutenant.”

“None taken,” I said.

“The whole point of the mission was to shake their confidence and make them consider their action,” Powell continued.
“The Colonial Union was saying ‘Look what we can do with four common soldiers, so think about what we could do with more—and think about what we’re protecting you from.’”

“But it doesn’t address root causes,” Lambert said, again.
“Look, the global legislature of an entire planet doesn’t wake up one morning and decide to vote for independence just for the fun of it.
There was a lot going on before that point.
Things we don’t know about because while it was all brewing, we were off doing other things.”

“Right,” Powell said.
“And when the aftermath of this comes down, we’ll also be off again, doing other things, so why are you worked up about it?”

“I’m not worked up about it,” Lambert said.
“I’m just asking if our so-called ‘successful’ mission actually helped.”

“It helped the Franklins,” Salcido said.
“The ones who didn’t want independence, anyway.”

“Also the ones who didn’t want to get shot for treason,” Powell interjected.

“Them too,” Salcido agreed.

“Right, but I’m not convinced it helped the Colonial Union,” Lambert said.
“The reasons the Franklins wanted independence, whatever they are, are still there.
They haven’t been addressed.”

“Not our job,” Powell said.

“No, it’s not.
I just wish whosever job it was had done it before we got there.”

“If they had then we wouldn’t have been there,” Powell said.
“We would have been somewhere else and you would be trying to find deeper meaning about
that.
”

“So you’re saying the real problem is me,” Lambert said.

“I’m not saying the real problem
isn’t
you,” Powell said.
"Me, I’m just glad to get through the thing alive.
Call me uncomplicated."