Frontiers Saga 12: Rise of the Alliance (30 page)

“Of course I do,” the sergeant said. “What other choice do we have, but to believe?”

Nathan sighed. “How is it you’re still a sergeant?”

“If you’re thinking of promoting me, please don’t, sir.”

“Why not?” Nathan wondered. “You sure as hell deserve it.”

“I like my job, Captain,” Sergeant Weatherly explained. “Protecting your six is important. I can’t change any of this, Captain, but you, you just might be able to. So by keeping you alive, I’m doing what I can to help fix all this.”

“Very well, Sergeant,” Nathan agreed. “You’ll stay a sergeant… For now, at least.”

The remainder of their trip passed in silence. Nathan tried not to pay too much attention to what was going on outside their windows, in the dark streets of the city. The sergeant was right. He had to keep his mind on the big picture. There will always be people who suffer. It was one of the unfortunate attributes of human civilization.

The convoy of military vehicles finally pulled through the heavy gates into the secure garage beneath the capitol complex. They came to a stop in front of the main elevators that would take them down several levels to the secure bunker where President Scott and his staff both conducted the business of the North American Union and resided.

Sergeant Weatherly swung open his door and stepped out, scanning the area as he waited for his men to deploy. The garage might be one of the most secure places on Earth at the moment, but he was not one to take chances.

Satisfied that the area was secure, he moved around to the other side of the vehicle and opened the door for his captain. Nathan climbed out of the vehicle and moved briskly to the elevator, followed by the sergeant and two of his men.

Five minutes and several checkpoints later, Nathan found himself at the entrance to his sister’s suite, where a polite man in the uniform of the NAU security forces escorted him inside.

“Ma’am, you have a visitor,” the guard announced as they entered the small living room.

His sister, Miri, was sitting on a sofa that had seen better days, various data pads strewn about within easy reach. Wearing her usual T-shirt and shorts—her standard ‘at home’ attire—she was buried in her task of helping to connect the citizens of the NAU with their missing loved ones.

Miri looked up and smiled at her younger brother, rising eagerly from her sofa to greet him. Her smile made him forget all of his responsibilities, if only for a moment, taking him back to the carefree days of his youth when he and Miri would waste perfectly good afternoons discussing any number of meaningless topics. She was the youngest of all his sisters, only two years older than Nathan, and was the only sister of five with which he felt close.

“Nathan,” she said as she approached. She wrapped her arms around him and gave him the warmest of hugs, which he eagerly returned. “It’s about time you came down to visit,” she added as she released him and stepped back. “Something to drink?”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Nathan Scott doesn’t want a drink?” she teased. “Does this mean that you won’t be pickled at this year’s Founders’ Day celebration?”

“You’re not serious,” Nathan said as he moved to the chair across the coffee table from her.

Miri plopped back down on the sofa. “About getting pickled or Founders’ Day?”

“How can anyone possibly think of celebrating, after all that has happened?”

“People need a reason to celebrate, Nathan,” Miri insisted, “especially when times are bad. Besides, our father insisted. He thinks it will help restore a sense of continuity and cooperation to the world.”

“I’ll warn the Ghatazhak,” Nathan said. “I’m pretty sure they’re going to want to increase their alert levels on that day.”

“Since when did you become such a pessimist?” Miri asked.

“Occupational hazard,” he explained. “What’s for dinner?”

“I have no idea,” she admitted. “We just take whatever the kitchen has cooked up for the evening. Everyone down here does. It’s easier that way. Food is still a big problem, I’m afraid.”

“I thought you had plenty stored up down here?”

“This way, we are able to make a little go a lot further. We were able to give nearly half of our food stores to the public food kitchens. We figured, since the citizens are lining up to eat whatever is being served, why shouldn’t we have to do the same thing.”

“So, we have to go to your mess hall?”

“Actually, no. Normally I do, but seeing as how you were coming, I arranged to have our food delivered. Perks of being one of the president’s daughters.”

“I see,” Nathan nodded. “How is everyone else? How are your kids?”

“They’re fine. They’re staying with Becky and her family down in Detroit Lakes. There’s a huge refugee camp there. Her husband is running the place, so it’s a nice, secure location.”

“Why not keep them here with you?”

“Underground? Look at me, Nathan. When’s the last time you saw me looking this pale?”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“Children need sunshine, fresh air, other children. They need a normal routine. I can’t give them that here, not while I’m doing all of this,” she explained, gesturing at all the data pads laying on the sofa around her.

“Can’t you get someone to help you?”

“Every department is understaffed. I’ve got several volunteers who help in their off hours. But twelve- to eighteen-hour days is the norm down here.”

“But a refugee camp?”

“They don’t actually live in the camp,” she explained. “They live in town, in a secured neighborhood.”

“What’s that?”

“They barricade streets and create single-gate access to entire neighborhoods now. Sometimes there are two or three gates, but usually only one. Guards track everyone coming and going, making sure that only people who belong there are allowed in. It’s all handled by volunteers from within the neighborhoods themselves. They’ve been popping up all over the place. Local governments are promoting them heavily, and even the Ghatazhak have been helping people set them up. Some of the neighborhoods even set up their own distribution centers, health clinics, and schools. The one Becky’s family lives in is so complete she rarely even needs to leave the neighborhood.”

“So the people
are
accepting the Ghatazhak presence on Earth?”

“I wouldn’t call it
accepting
,” Miri said. “It’s more like choosing the lesser of two evils. Nobody
wants
to live in a police state, Nathan, but nobody wants to be killed going to the distribution center for a few gallons of water and some food rations, either. It’s true, however, that some people think we’ve traded one dictator for another.”

“They’re calling Dad a dictator?”

“Only because of the Ghatazhak. The media hotheads refer to them as ‘Scott’s guard dogs’. No one takes them seriously, of course, but you know how people are. They listen to rumors and believe what they want to believe. It’s easier for them to deal with things when they have someone to blame.”

“It doesn’t seem fair,” Nathan said. “How is he taking it?”

“He doesn’t care, as long as they are in the minority. Still, that’s probably why he asked you to deploy the Ghatazhak in the first place; to scare the crap out of everyone so that they
wouldn’t
try to revolt. It’s all about control, Nathan. Control, and appearances. It’s also why the neighborhood security programs are being so heavily promoted. Restricting movement decreases the chances of organized revolts.”

“Makes sense, I guess.”

“What do you mean, I guess?”

“I’m just surprised that people are putting up with it so easily. A year ago, everyone was screaming about their freedoms being violated, and now they’re allowing their movements to be tracked and controlled? It doesn’t sound much like the NAU we grew up with.”

“It isn’t,” she agreed, “not by a long shot, but it
is
necessary. It’s a matter of survival, plain and simple, and the people know it. They don’t want to admit it, but they know it. Before they started gating everything up and controlling access, gangs were stealing everything they could get their hands on and then selling it on the black market. People were afraid to leave their homes, not just because they were afraid of getting mugged or killed, but because they were afraid that what little they had would be gone when they returned. It sucks, yes. Having to go through a dozen checkpoints a day just to pick up food and water for your family is not fun, but it is better than the alternative.”

“I guess so.”

“And those are the lucky ones,” she reminded him. “There are still areas right here in Winnipeg where if you go out after dark you likely will not survive.”

“Yeah, I witnessed as much on the way in.”

“It’s chaos down here, yes. But it’s organized chaos, and the greater the Ghatazhak presence becomes, the fewer the Jung-sponsored insurgent attacks will occur. After the last attack, that was all you heard on the news. Now, they’re down to one every other week or so. So you see, it
is
getting better with each passing day. Once basic infrastructures are restored, changes will take place at an accelerated rate. You’ll see.”

“I’m sure I will,” Nathan agreed. He knew from experience that once Miri believed in something, there was no convincing her otherwise, and in this case, he sincerely hoped that she was correct. “How is all this going?” he asked, pointing to her pile of data pads strewn about her sofa.

“It’s still slow. Network connectivity is still intermittent at best. Once the net becomes more reliable, the process will move more quickly. The biggest problem is the lack of data communications coverage. Once that is restored, people will be able to log in and search for missing loved ones on their own. Unfortunately, that’s going to require launching a few dozen communications satellites.”

“Maybe after the Karuzara arrives,” Nathan suggested. “They should be able to fabricate the sats and launch them.”

“That would be a big help,” she admitted. “Not just in helping people reconnect, but also in the distribution of aid. One of the biggest logistical problems we have is that no one knows what everyone else has to offer. If they did, they could be arranging trades of needed goods to help each other out. So far, that’s only taking place on a regional basis. Imagine if that could take place over all of North America? Or the world?”

“I’ll mention it to Commander Dumar in my next message.”

“Commander Dumar?” she asked, unfamiliar with the name.

“The commanding officer of the Karuzara asteroid base.”

Miri shook her head. “I still have a hard time believing that an entire asteroid can jump its way across a thousand light years of space, and in only a few months. How big did you say it is?”

“Big enough to fit both the Aurora
and
the Celestia inside, and then some,” he explained. “I understand that they’ve been excavating additional bays and tunnels as well, so who knows how much space they have in there now.”

“And you drove your ship inside of this thing?”

“Flew,” Nathan said.

“
Flew
your ship inside of it.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Isn’t that difficult?”

“It was a little nerve-racking, yes. Especially since I was hand-flying it at the time. By now they probably have it set up to auto-flight ships in and out.”

Miri shook her head. “Still hard to imagine.”

“It was pretty overwhelming the first time I saw it,” he admitted.

“You know, Pop’s been talking that asteroid up a lot lately. Not officially, mind you, but the word has gotten out, and it has given the population renewed hope. That, and the mass migrations to Tanna.”

“How’s that been going?” Nathan wondered.

“It’s slow, but not because of a shortage of volunteers,” Miri explained. “Nearly every displaced person is ready to go start over on another world, especially one that isn’t at the top of the Jung’s target list. I don’t suppose you can get more of those transports?”

“The boxcars?” Nathan said. “They’re coming, but it takes time. Once they are rebuilt, they have to fly from the Karuzara back to Takara to pick up a load of Ghatazhak, then fly to Earth. The whole thing takes about ten days.”

“So we will get more of them later?”

“Yes,” Nathan assured her. “Within a couple of months our capacity to move people and aid between Tanna and Earth should quadruple.”

“That will help,” Miri agreed.

The entry door opened and the guard stepped into the room. “Dinner is here, ma’am.”

“Finally,” Miri said as she rose. “I’m starving.”

Nathan also rose and looked through the doorway, spotting Sergeant Weatherly outside. The sergeant looked at him and nodded, indicating that everything was okay.

“Put it on the table, please,” Miri told the young man pushing the food cart.

Nathan moved over to the table and took a seat as the man finished placing two metal dinner trays covered with clear, heat-retaining shrink wrap in front of them.

“What are we having tonight?” Miri asked the man.

“Beef stew, canned green beans, and brown rice, ma’am,” the server answered.

“Sounds great,” Miri said, trying to be enthusiastic.

“If you say so, ma’am,” the server said as he turned to leave.

Nathan removed the plastic, picked up his spoon and sampled the stew. “Next time, we eat at my place.”

* * *

“Captain on deck!” the officer of the watch in the flight operations center announced as Nathan entered the room.

Nathan moved toward Majors Prechitt and McCullum who were both standing at the center of the
room, studying the holographic map hovering over the plotting table.

“Captain, I wasn’t expecting you, sir,” Major Prechitt said. “Stretching your legs again?”

“I can only sit in my ready room for so long,” Nathan said. “I have read every manual, every procedure, every word of every book ever written on or about the EDF and each of its ships, and that includes every surviving piece of intelligence about the Jung, what little there is of it.”

“Sounds riveting, sir,” the major joked.

“Next is the history of the Pentaurus cluster.”