Branegate (21 page)

Read Branegate Online

Authors: James C. Glass

Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #War & Military, #Fiction

BOOK: Branegate
11.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Petyr pushed him hard towards the car, turned and opened fire on the men, a staccato of fire scattering brass cartridge cases on the sidewalk. Both of his targets crashed to the ground before firing a shot.

There was an explosion, high pitched, that echoed in the street as Trae stumbled, looked back and saw the back of Petyr’s head erupt in a shower of blood and white bone.

He didn’t hear the second explosion, only felt the terrible concussion of the killing bullet that struck him in the chest.

And then he was gone.

CHAPTER 21

A
way from the eyes of the common people, the election was decided before campaigning began.

In the days after the assassination of the Emperor of Gan things happened so quickly even news-people could not agree on what had happened or who was responsible. At first report the killing of Osman had been a terrorist act committed by the underground church, but new rumors quickly followed. Soldiers had been seen lowering the Emperor’s colors fluttering beneath the flag of Gan, so they were also involved and it was a military coup. Strategic information was leaked. Agents of Galena in the uniforms of Gan secret police had participated in the assault of the palace, so it was an interplanetary conspiracy between Galena and the military establishment of Gan. It was also said that Osman had been blown up by a suicidal priest of an outlawed church, or had been shot by his own police. The news was flashed, and those who controlled the news waited for public reactions. There was only one: everyone could now openly agree that Khalid Osman had been a despised, self-seeking tyrant, and they were glad he was dead. The hope now was that he wouldn’t be replaced by someone even worse.

They were pleasantly surprised.

The shakers and movers of Gan, those who built the industrial empires and created the jobs for the common people, the self-made men who drove the economy of the planet, all of them had come to a decision. The days of dictatorships inherited from one generation to the next had come to an end. There would be a new form of government on Gan, and it would be a government freely elected by the people.

In underground cells of The Church all over Gan there was cheering, and hope for religious freedom. The reaction of the general public was more subdued, but receptive. Any governmental system was fine with them as long as there were jobs, food on the table and a comfortable quality of life for everyone and not just a few. At least the industrialists had shared their wealth generously with their workers. The Emperor of Gan had only taken from them, and given nothing in return.

The ten wealthiest men on Gan formed a committee to suggest forms the new government might take. They elected a chairman whose wisdom they held in high esteem, and his name was Azar Khalil. The name was familiar to the everyday citizen. The companies within his conglomerate employed tens of thousands, and he’d funded a vast network of charities to help the poor. There was even a rumor he’d funded the underground church and was, in fact, a spiritual man who often meditated, and believed in a power greater than himself or any emperor. A humble man, yet wise and successful at anything he attempted to do.

The committee met regularly and held press conferences to inform the public about what models they were discussing. A pure democracy was ruled out immediately; without laws, checks and balances, anarchy would soon follow. But freedom of speech was a must, as was religious tolerance, two things that had been oppressed the most under the old regime.

Models poured forth from the committee, Azar Khalil acting as spokesman to the press: presidents with power, presidents as diplomats and prime ministers with power, presidents with appointed or elected cabinets of ministers, a plethora of congressional models all poured out in a span of three months.

In the meantime the everyday affairs of Gan were run by an interim cabinet of men who had enjoyed the trust of the people even under Osman’s reign: a military general, former ministers of labor, economics and interplanetary affairs, men whose advice had often been publicly ridiculed by the Emperor while seeming reasonable to the people. One of these men was Sadam Halek, and it was said that without his wisdom and advice the emperor would have long ago driven Gan into economic despair. He was the most visible man of the interim government, having been selected by his peers to serve as president.

After a series of public opinion polls the committee chaired by Azar Khalil presented two models of government for a vote of the people: an elected president with elected congress of the people, or a figurehead president with elected prime minister and cabinet, and an advisory congress of the people. Polling places were established, and all citizens over eighteen were invited to register. Upon the public recommendation by Azar Khalil, amnesty was declared for members of the underground church, restoring them all to full citizenship and urging them to register and cast their vote.

The turnout of eligible voters was eighty-nine percent, and seventy percent of them voted to have an elected president and congress to share power in the new government.

Candidates appeared quickly; altogether there were twenty-five positions to be filled, and one of them was for president. Two candidates emerged for this powerful position; one was Sadam Halek, and the other was Azar Khalil. Since both men were respected public figures, a close race was predicted. Both were strong advocates of freedom of speech and religious preference. Both had records of fiscal conservatism and balanced budgets.

There were differences. Sadam Halek was a strong proponent of interplanetary commerce, particularly with Galena, his nearest neighbor. Azar Khalil believed in a focus on local industry to create more and better jobs to build a stronger tax base. He also had some misgivings about relations with Galena, reminding voters of the rumored but unproven involvement of that planet in the plot against the Emperor. “I believe in strong interplanetary relations, but I will not tolerate off-world interference in our affairs,” he told them.

Halek believed in moral values, but advocated a complete separation of church and state in the making of laws.

Khalil’s case for morality in government was even stronger, and he revealed for the first time his personal belief in The Source and the moral laws first established by missionary Leonid Zylak for The Church of The Faithful.

A prominent news reporter was contacted by an anonymous source giving him evidence that Azar Khalil had used his wealth to single-handedly keep alive an oppressed church driven underground. Voter registration centers were swollen with newly reinstated citizens for two weeks after the news appeared.

Another reporter questioned Sadam Halek about his regular trips to Galena, and a report he’d met recently with the Emperor there. Halek gave a complete accounting of his business meetings on that planet, but denied any meeting with its Emperor. The news was reported two days before the election with the headline, ‘Candidate Halek denies recent political intrigue with Galena’.

The election was held, and ninety five percent of those registered cast their vote.

Azar Khalil received sixty four percent of the votes cast, and was sworn in as president of Gan and all its occupied territories. Following the ceremony, he attended the first public mass of The Church of The Faithful in twenty-four years, and was blessed by its Bishop.

CHAPTER 22

T
hey were imprisoned for one month before visitors were allowed, and then it was only because Tatjana’s family demanded it.

There was an apology from The Council of Bishops, but it was sent privately to Natasha Salizar, the eighty-year-old matriarch of the family. Her eight sons were the business minds behind a trillion sovereign a year empire, taking the place of their long dead father Carlos. One of those sons was Ernesto. And Tatjana Zylak was his daughter.

“Your apology will be accepted when my grand daughter is released on bail,” said Natasha to the Archbishop when he called on her personally to apologize for the oversight. “I will not tolerate abuse of political power, even by The Church.”

The presence of tiny Natasha Salizar was formidable, and the quilted chair she perched on was like a throne. Sky blue eyes blazed forth from a round face with pug nose and a small bow of a mouth rouged violet.

The Archbishop swallowed hard, and said, “I sincerely regret the necessity of arrest, Madam. If the Zylaks had not returned there wouldn’t be a problem, but they represent a criminal government we fought hard to overcome, and we cannot allow them to remain free.”

“Our previous government was inept, not criminal. Our economy is still a mess. Does that make The Church criminal? You spend your time flaunting power instead of tending to business.”

“Madam, please be reasonable. Charges have been filed, but nothing has been proven in court. There will be a trial.”

“Then why can’t our lawyer see his client?”

“An oversight. It will be corrected immediately.”

“Yes it will, and I’m giving you a list of other things to be corrected.” She reached into a folio in her lap, withdrew a sheet of paper and handed to him.

“You should be pleased to note I’m not asking for bail if the rest of those things are done within a week,” said Natasha. “If they’re not, I’ll go public with my demands and I’ll release every piece of dirt my family has collected about The Church and its hierarchy.”

“You’re imagining things, Madam. I must caution you about commiting heresy.”

Natasha laughed at him, a deep, earthy laugh. “Oh, my dear, we control all information on this planet. Nothing can be hidden from us: the lies, the assassinations of those you claim are imprisoned, the agents and saboteurs you send to the other side and the military fleet assembling near the Grand Portal. You cannot even stabilize the economy of a single planet, but are vain enough to think you can invade, conquer and control another universe on top of it.”

“The public will not believe such lies, and The Church won’t tolerate them,” said the Archbishop, and now he was angry. “Don’t think for a moment you’re immune from prosecution, or worse.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “Do not think you’re immune from harsh treatment. The Source will not protect you from the consequences of stupidity. I can make one call, and the Council of Bishops will be dead within a day. It’s already arranged if anything fatal happens to a single member of my family.” Her gaze was steady, voice cold.

The Archbishop blinked, and cleared his throat. “I did not mean to threaten, Madam. Please, we’re saying things we’ll regret later. What you’re asking for will be done, and I’ll press for a trial in the near future. It’s the best I can do.”

“I can ask for no more than that,” said Natasha sweetly, and lifted her ringed hand to be kissed. The Archbishop of Kratola kissed it grandly, and a servant arrived to escort him away from her.

Natasha remained perched on her throne, and closed her eyes.
The man is gone at last. Such impudence.

The man has great power, Mother. Never underestimate it. Will he do what you say?
The presence was strong, but came and went in her mind. Her son was doing something else at the same time.

I think so. We’ll know within a day. Tell me when you hear something, Ernesto. They’ll never release her, you know. We’ll have to make other arrangements to get her back through the portal.

I know, Mother. We’ll handle things, so don’t tire yourself worrying about it.

A pause, and a tear crept into Natasha’s eye.
Kratola is my home. I’ve always expected to be finally buried here, but now I think it might not happen.

Leave it to The Source, Mother.

That’s the problem. I think The Source will leave it up to me, just like your father did.

The guards were kind enough, could tell them nothing, but ventured an opinion it could be many months before a trial. But why hadn’t their lawyer even visited them? And their family? Didn’t they have a legal right to visitors?

This all changed thirty-two days after their imprisonment. Guards arrived in the morning, after they’d finished breakfast. Their cells were unlocked and they were allowed to embrace. The guards took them to another wing of the building. It was newer, cleaner, brighter.

They were still inspecting their new quarters when a guard came for them. “You have a visitor,” he said, and motioned them down the hall. He took them to an interview room with tables and chairs and sat them down. Another guard armed with a high voltage prod was a permanent fixture in the room. They waited only a few minutes. The door opened, and their lawyer came in, a man they hadn’t seen since their hearing. He smiled, and sat down opposite them at the table. “Please tell me that things have improved for you this morning,” he said.

“They certainly have,” said Leonid. “What happened?”

Carl Osten leaned forward, looked at Tatjana and spoke softly. “There was a subtle nudge from your grandmother.”

“I doubt if it was subtle,” said Tatjana. “That’s not Grandma Nat.”

“Indeed,” said Carl. “The Archbishop himself has felt her wrath. At least your living conditions will improve, and you’ll have visitors. This is important. I’m afraid the rest of my news is not good. The trial will not be soon, and it will mostly be a public show. You represent the old government, and the Bishops will make sure you’re imprisoned for a long time.”

“If things are so hopeless, then why are you here?” asked Tatjana, and her voice was sharp.

“I’ll prepare the best defense I can and go through all the motions. I just don’t want you to have any illusions about what the final outcome will be. Your grandmother doesn’t believe this, but your father does. He’s waiting outside to see you.”

“Father!” said Tatjana.

“No matter,” said Leonid, and his face was flushed. “We’re not going anywhere, and we have a lawyer who’s already given up. You go through the motions and collect your fee, and we’re still here. What good are you?”

“Leonid!” said Tatjana.

“Well?” said Leonid, and glared at the man opposite him.

Other books

Queen of Denial by Selina Rosen
Nocturne by Helen Humphreys
Apologize, Apologize! by Kelly, Elizabeth
Cookies and Crutches by Judy Delton
El cuento número trece by Diane Setterfield