The Unincorporated Woman (44 page)

The Outer Alliance would have to be occupied the old-fashioned, expensive, decades-long way. If the latest figures were correct, up to one third of the population would have to be permanently killed before the rest would settle down. Not that Hektor minded. In the scale of the centuries to come, it was a small price to pay to make sure that all of humanity existed under one banner and that order was maintained by the best and brightest.

A chime went off and Hektor quickly got up from the temporary bed, then jumped into a sonic shower bag to clean up. He dressed, leaving Neela asleep, and headed out the door for his next appointment.

The security staff and a cadre of securibots took up their positions around him as he walked to the presidential t.o.p. A special launch pad was built into the executive offices, and secure landing pads could be built anywhere.

As he entered the t.o.p., he saw that per his orders, the “fluid” space had assumed the shape of the Cabinet room back in the executive offices and that the entire Cabinet was waiting for him inside. Everyone was even sitting in the chairs they normally occupied. All five members stood up as he entered and did not sit down until he was seated.

Hektor cleared his head when he realized that the person at the end of the table was looking at him with a patient gaze. Tricia Pakagopolis, the Internal Affairs Minister, was as dangerous a person as Hektor had ever known, and that was a disturbing thought. He knew that someday she would be running the UHF, but he didn’t care. It was what the people deserved. But best not to let her think he was slipping.

“Okay. Any good news?”

“The people seem to be buying the story that we won the Battle of Ceres,” said Irma. “It was touch and go, but J. D. Black’s reputation has really helped us for a change. The fact that Trang didn’t lose is really considered a major victory.”

“The fact that he didn’t lose
is
a major victory,” said the Defense Minister, Porfirio Baldwin. “He’s the first one we’ve ever fielded who didn’t. It might take a while, but I think we can safely assume that the next battle or the one after that will bring the bitch’s head to the pike it so richly deserves.”

“It would have been nice if Trang could’ve saved us and the economy the trouble and just kicked her ass when he had the chance,” complained Brenda.

“I repeat, she has always won until now,” asserted Irma. “This is a good start.”

“I thought Admiral Trang hasn’t lost until now either,” noted Minister of Justice Franklin Higgins, with barely contained sarcasm.

“Yes, but his victories, though inevitable, tend to be rather bloody affairs. It’s hard for the people to revel in victories that have body counts in the tens of millions. J. D. Black tends to win battles in far less time with far fewer losses.”

“She can’t afford to lose much more than she has,” suggested Tricia. “She’s fighting the war she must.”

“Which is a perfect segue for what I believe will be my war-winning idea,” pressed Porfirio without a hint of humility.

“What have you got?” asked Hektor.

“Although accurate detailed information on the Outer Alliance is difficult to acquire, we have been able to compile what we feel is a fairly accurate economic assessment of the OA. There is just no way to hide the economic activity of an entity of over four billion people.”

Porfirio activated the holo-tank and began slinging graphs and images into three-dimensional space. “The economy of the OA is absolutely amazing. It runs on efficiencies and levels of sacrifice that we could never hope to achieve even though our side—I mean, uh, the UHF—outnumbers and outproduces them in most general areas like transportation, ship production, and total population involved in the armed forces. Still, the OA has managed to achieve nearly sixty-two percent parity with the UHF. Seriously, when we have this war won, I’m going to collect massive stock options on anyone left in their leadership we haven’t liquidated. They are collectively a remarkable group of people. But they are brittle.”

“In what way?” probed Franklin.

“They’re using everyone and everything they have. Do you know that the percentage of work in the OA done by drones is the lowest it’s been in over a century? It seems that darn near every human being is working for the war effort. And they’ve managed to make it efficient. I mean think about it, human labor efficient? For example, did you know that children have replaced serving drones in almost all their food service industries? It’s now considered a fancy restaurant if you are
not
served by a human.”

“We did a small piece on that,” said Irma. “We had NNN do it. Basically saying that the return of child labor and worse was to be expected. We had some amazing graphics of children being forced to clean tables and mop floors with imams and priests standing over them with shock sticks. It rated very well.”

“If
only,
” sighed Brenda. “Economically forced labor is the least efficient. Their entire economy would have collapsed by now if even part of that story were true.”

“I agree”—Porfirio nodded—“that the people of the OA are fanatically supportive of their rebellion. So let’s stop fucking around and take out the real problem.”

“What do you mean, ‘take out the real problem’?” asked Irma. By the way she asked the question, it was clear she had a good idea of the answer.

“The people of the OA support the war. They have created an amazingly intricate economy that is both more primitive and advanced than ours, but it is also far more fragile. I say we take the lessons of Alhambra to heart.”

Irma’s brow shot up slightly. “Alhambra was not as great a success as we thought, and the main effect was to make the OA far more belligerent, not less.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the OA or how they feel. They hate our fucking guts. Wanna know how they’ll feel tomorrow? They’ll hate our fucking guts. Know what we can do to change that? Not a Damsah-cursed thing. So screw them. Let’s unleash a significant part of our fleet and just destroy as many OA settlements as possible. Let’s kill as many OA citizens as we can, adults
and
children. It’ll screw up that damned efficiency of theirs and make it that much harder for them to continue this war.”

“How are we going to justify killing unarmed civilians?” demanded Irma. “It’s one thing to blow up some rocks in the Belt after one of our convoys has been ambushed. It’s a miserable patch of anarchy out there, and the public even supports the harsh tactics, now that we’ve explained the need to them. But to go and purposely seek out defenseless civilians will make us seem like the same assholes who brought on the Grand Collapse.”

“That’s what I keep telling you,” insisted Porfirio. “
There are no civilians,
only targets.”

Hektor watched as Tricia smiled and nodded ever so slightly.

“It’s about time we took the war to the enemy,
all
the enemy,” urged Porfirio. “Hiroshima is my moral compass. We have more ships than the OA. I want to see what the ‘great’ J. D. Black will do when she has to be in two places at once.”

“She’ll lose,” said Tricia coolly.

“There is a problem,” interjected Brenda. Hektor nodded toward her. “If we go after them on this level, they can go after us the same way. And we live in big easy-to-find targets. They’re in settlements all the way across the solar system.”

“I’ve considered that,” maintained Porfirio. “It’s because we’re so concentrated that this works. Our main population and industrial centers are the planets and orbits of Mars, Luna, and Earth—by far the biggest population centers in the UHF. As it happens, those three locations have the highest concentration of orbital batteries in the solar system. The Battle of the Martian Gates taught both sides the stupidity of directly attacking mutually supporting batteries. But if the OA wants to, they can commit suicide anytime. Unlike us, they cannot protect all their population centers. They have too many, spread out over too great a distance.
I
say let’s make this strategic difference work for us.”

Hektor had to resist a smile. The hard truth of what Porfirio was saying became apparent and was readily accepted by the show of nodding heads. If the war had to be won, then the moral equation would have to become moot, and Hektor knew to the bottom of his soul that the war had to be won.

“Will Admiral Trang really accept this?” asked Brenda. “So far, he’s been ruthless in fighting the war, but he’s been equally firm in making sure it’s primarily remained a military conflict, not a civilian one. Will he suddenly change his mind? I suspect that if he thinks he can win a military victory, he’ll do so without murdering children in their asteroids—and let’s face it, Porfirio, call them what you will, they’re still children.”

“That’s a good point,” agreed Porfirio. “I’ll talk to the admiral.”

“Good luck with that,” quipped Irma. “After the Long Battle, he made a prisoner exchange with the Alliance for the express purpose of reining in the barbarity that had been increasing on both sides. He almost apologized for Alhambra. Thank Damsah I was tipped off and was able to secure a rewrite of the offer.”

“Leave convincing Trang to me,” ordered Hektor. “Or rather, leave it to his two most valued subordinates. I think Gupta would agree with you, Porfirio, and if anyone has seen Zenobia Jackson’s comments lately, it’s clear she’s already with us.”

“Of course, Mr. President,” said Porfirio, beaming.

“We’ve got a few minutes left before landing. Anything else?”

“Mr. President,” warned Tricia, “there’s a new political force in the Outer Alliance. He is called Rabbi.”

“Go on.”

“Religious fanatic recently appointed to their Cabinet. He’s apparently dislodged Mosh in influence.”

“Just further proof that the OA has become a terrorist government of religious fanatics who’ll stop at nothing to win,” added Brenda.

The irony of her words was lost on her and almost all present.

Triangle Office

Sandra O’Toole was saying good-bye to a man whom she’d known for only a few months but felt like she’d known for years. Dr. Thaddeus Gillette was not really a friend. And short of Sebastian, Sandra had no real friends from her new era. Thaddeus, however, was someone she could talk to about almost everything, even though they hardly talked at all.

“Are you sure I can’t get you to change your mind?”

“Madam President, I must go where I am needed. And Dr. Nesor assures me that I am most definitely needed around Saturn. It is, after all, the largest battle trauma center the Alliance has.”

“But I’m sure we could find something useful for you here.
I
may need your help.”

“Madam President, you may desire my conversation, but I would not be so foolish as to assume you need my help. Please don’t confuse me with those deluded important people who cannot see you for what you truly are.”

“And that would be?” glimmered Sandra, trying to keep her voice light and amused.

“You are Justin Cord’s heir and the Unincorporated Woman in the truest sense of that name. You are necessary,” he finished sadly. “I will not like what is coming, but I have come to accept that Hektor Sambianco and what he stands for must be defeated. So my staying around here and second-guessing you will not help. I will go where I can do the most good, and you will stay where you can—” He paused. “—be the most effective.”

Dr. Gillette then bowed slightly and left the Triangle Office without another word. As soon as he was gone, Sebastian appeared. He was dressed as an Alliance fleet officer, wearing the uniform of a captain in Fleet Intelligence.

“Are you sure about this, Sandra?”

“Frankly, no, but we don’t have time, and she’s perfect.”

“I’m not only asking about that. Can you do what is needed if this goes awry?”

“You mean can I kill her?” Sandra paused as if she’d been considering what sort of flowers to plant in the garden. “Yes. Will you be able to give the story enough cover?”

“Of course.”

“Well, let’s hope we’re convincing enough that it won’t be needed.” She then placed a tray of Oreos on the coffee table between the two couches. However, the side of the tray facing Sebastian was mostly empty.

Moments later, more cookies appeared out of thin air. Sebastian leaned over and picked up one of the holographic Oreos he’d just created. One bite brought a refulgent smile. “It is difficult to know if what I am tasting is what a human tastes. We think the answer is yes, but how can we really know? But if this is as good as I think it is, why did your species let it disappear?”

Sandra sighed. “I wish I knew. I’m just glad I had some preserved with me to re-create the recipe. I hear they’re quite popular with the military now.”

“Which means they’ll become popular with the entire Alliance.”

“True. Of course, that also means the UHF will probably make it a capital offense to eat one.”

“Their loss,” snickered Sebastian, grabbing another.

Sandra grabbed one as well and nonchalantly pulled it apart. She nibbled at the half with the leftover creamy center.

“You can do that?” With boyish charm, Sebastian grabbed another. His smile, however, instantly faded as the sound of a door chime insinuated itself on their little party.

*   *   *

Marilynn nervously waited outside the Triangle Office. She wasn’t sure what it was about the President that actually made her feel that nervous, but she readily accepted it in much the same way she’d come to accept similar sensations in the presence of Admiral Black. It didn’t help that the meeting had been unscheduled and that something in the President’s voice indicated solemnity.

The door opened up, and Marilynn found herself standing face-to-face with the President. “Welcome, Commodore. You’ll have to forgive us, but we started on the cookies without you.” She invited Marilynn to sit opposite the now standing Sebastian. “Captain Sebastian Tac, may I present Commodore Marilynn Nitelowsen.”

Sebastian preempted Marilynn’s move to shake his hand by giving her a formal salute, which she instinctively returned. He then sat back down and reached for a cookie, practically ignoring the two women in his presence. It was a shocking breach of protocol. Marilynn was getting ready to dress down the captain for having seated himself before his superior officer
and
his President, however, seeing as the President didn’t seem to care, neither, decided Marilynn, should she.