Starfist: Kingdom's Fury (9 page)

But de Tomas's influence among the sects on Kingdom ran much deeper than the police functions carried out by his Special Group. Over the years, he had also created numerous administrative bureaus that conducted constant surveillance of the sects' members to ensure that the arts, entertainment, and the news media complied with guidelines he published and updated constantly, in the name of the Convocation but actually on his own authority. The objective of his strict control was to ensure that the activities of the Convocation were always portrayed in the most favorable light and that nothing was allowed to adversely influence public faith in the Convocation or the sects' leaders. The leaders were content to let de Tomas act in their name. But maintaining public morale was proving difficult in the present crisis since the Army of the Lord had taken such a terrific beating at the hands of the invaders. Even so, de Tomas's propaganda experts had put the best possible spin on the military defeats. The citizens of Haven were led to believe that the Army of the Lord, with some minor help from the Confederation Marines, had stemmed the invaders' advance on the capital and was soon to launch a devastating counterattack.

Sects surviving in the outlying cities and towns were being told to hold fast, that relief would soon be on its way. So far it was a great propaganda victory.

In addition to the propaganda activities created to ensure the Collegium's control over public opinion, de Tomas had quietly and efficiently created a Security Bureau with a wide-ranging system of informants. Very little went on in the sects' territories that de Tomas was not aware of. In short, he had created a government within a government, and his version was infinitely more efficient than the loose control managed by the cumbersome and fractious Convocation of Ecumenical Leaders.

And finally there was the Young Folk League. Since each sect on Kingdom conducted its own schooling, it was not possible for the Collegium to control educational activities beyond basic curriculum oversight. So the ingenious Dean of the Collegium had established the Young Folk League, Kingdom's version of the scouts, for young people of age eight to eighteen. Branches thrived in all the towns and cities on Kingdom. Most parents were delighted when the league's monitors took their children on weekend camping trips and other outdoor activities. The league had been in operation for more than twenty-five years and was de Tomas's most fertile recruiting ground for the Special Group. It was also a useful tool for surreptitiously playing on young people's natural rebelliousness against adult authority and undermining their faith in the sects.

But de Tomas's actual investigations of reported heresy had become almost perfunctory over the years. His real interest lay in maintaining himself in a position of power which he could exercise from behind the scenes. He used his authority carefully, to eliminate potential rivals or, as in the case of the Anabaptist just fed to the flames, people who might ask questions or demand government accountability.

Meanwhile, he discovered enough real heretics to make it look as if the Collegium was doing its job. Most were given prison sentences. Real heretics were useful to de Tomas because anything that divided the sects weakened them and diverted their attention from matters of importance to him personally, such as the small slave-labor industries he had created using the prisoners in his custody. One of the many such enterprises, for instance, was a porcelain factory that produced exquisite and highly profitable items for sale in markets throughout Human Space. The export company he created under a front was to all appearances a legitimate business venture, but its profits went directly into de Tomas's off-world bank accounts.

The current disaster was just what he had been waiting for. The Kingdomite armed forces were severely weakened in the disastrous battles with the invaders, and best of all, even the vaunted Confederation forces were on the defensive. Whoever these mysterious invaders were, de Tomas was quite sure they would be beaten; the Confederation would not allow its forces to be mauled like this. And once the Marines were gone, the Kingdomite army's morale destroyed and its forces weakened, he would emerge perfectly secure, ensconced as the Richelieu of Kingdom.

But just then Dominic de Tomas had been summoned to attend an important meeting of the Convocation of Ecumenical Leaders at Mount Temple, and he was late.

There they all are, the fat pigs, de Tomas thought as he sat on the dais just behind Ayatollah Jebel Shammar, the current chairman of the Convocation. And there sat the superannuated Cardinal Leemus O'Lanners of the Fathers of Padua, in his bright red robes, and also that disgusting pea brain, Bishop Ralphy Bruce Preachintent, who had just passed his chairmanship to Shammar. De Tomas hated the way the man shouted and perspired when he talked, as if he really believed in all his fundamentalist crap. The furnace is too good for that fool, he told himself. All of them were absolute zeroes to de Tomas, and as he sat there he dreamed of putting them all into the furnace someday. It would serve them right, he thought, the doublespeak theocratic rabble.

The meeting hall atop Mount Temple had been reduced to rubble by the constant bombardments, so the Convocation was sitting that day in spacious subcellars where the participants were relatively safe from the Skink weapons. Obviously the invaders thought Mount Temple, because of its elevation, was being used as an observation post.

The main topic of discussion that afternoon was the invasion crisis. The ministers were frightened. Their capital city, Haven, and International City, where off-worlders were confined, were both surrounded and under siege. From what remained of the hall on the surface of Mount Temple, one could see the defensive lines around the cities and even observe the surrounding ring of enemy positions some kilometers farther out. Communications with the outlying colonies had been reduced to radio traffic or the occasional atmospheric shuttle or drone lucky enough to get through the besieger's antiaircraft system. But the word from the outlying congregations was not good: many towns and cities had been wiped out.

And the Confederation's potent Marine Expeditionary Force, even with the help of the entire Army of the Lord, had not been able to break the siege. Over and over again a minister would stand up and ask why God had allowed them to fall into such disaster. Had they sinned? And if so, was it just punishment for their sins?

"I CALL upon ALL of my brothers to get down on their KNEES and beg the LORD to give us a SIGN! Tell us, O LORD: HOW have we TRANSGRESSED

against thy WORD?" Ralphy Bruce Preachintent had thundered at one point. Ralphy Bruce stood there, face streaming with tears (or perspiration), his arms raised beseechingly to heaven. The other ministers were used to his histrionics, but many of them, especially those from sects that did not believe in charismatic preaching—which was most of them—were embarrassed by his outburst.

Ayatollah Shammar called for order after giving Bishop Ralphy Bruce sufficient time to regain his composure. "Brother Ralphy Bruce is right," Shammar intoned.

"We must consider what to tell our congregations, those we can still talk to, those that still exist, why this evil has been foisted upon us by deities we all believe to be just and loving. But now I think it is time Archbishop General Lambsblood gave us an update on the military situation."

Archbishop General Lambsblood was the commander in chief of Kingdom's armed forces. "In brief, brothers, if this Brigadier Sturgeon would listen to me, we should mass our forces at the invaders' weakest point and launch a breakout. But he has rejected my advice and, under the circumstances, I am powerless to compel him to do what any sensible commander would realize is necessary." Lambsblood sat down heavily. De Tomas smiled to himself. Excellent! he thought. Morale is low, combat efficiency is weak. And what did that old fool, Lambsblood, think this brigadier was? De Tomas had met Sturgeon several times and knew he was the kind of commander who could fight. He would attack the invaders when he was ready; de Tomas understood that, it was what he would have done himself. And this Sturgeon would attack them where they least expected it. Were I he, de Tomas thought, I'd launch an attack on their rear, destroy their logistics bases, command and control elements, and only then attack across the lines, using the Army of the Lord incompetents as a diversionary force. No, he would steer clear of these Marines. But once they were gone, things would go back to normal. Old Lambsblood, he thought, the damned fool! But—de Tomas was feeling good now—he'd feed the old bastard into the furnace head first, and spare him a bit of agony.

"Brother de Tomas?"

De Tomas looked up, startled. His reverie had been a bit too deep. Apparently Ayatollah Shammar was asking for his report. At the meetings, de Tomas always brought the Leaders up to date on his efforts to ensure orthodoxy among the sects.

Although nobody seemed enthusiastic about apostates at that stage of the military crisis, de Tomas was prepared with a lengthy list of names, heresies, and punishments. "Unfortunately, she died during interrogation," he told the leaders when he got to the case of the Anabaptist.

"Dean de Tomas," Shammar said, ignoring the fact that the Anabaptist had died—and nobody else in the group seemed to think it particularly noteworthy either—"what of the City of God?"

Several days before, the Convocation had requested de Tomas to look into reports that the City of God had removed itself from its settlements to a new location in the remote wilderness. Because the Army of the Lord was stretched thin supporting the Marines on the perimeter, the Collegium's help had been requested to look into the matter.

"They have been wiped out, Ministers," de Tomas replied shortly. There was a collective gasp from the assembled ministers, followed by a short silence and then quiet murmuring as they whispered excitedly among themselves.

"How do you know this?" the Venerable Muong Bo, the leading Buddhist, asked.

"My informants told me they had removed themselves to somewhere along the shores of the Sea of Gerizim. I dispatched a drone, and their camp was found and surveyed. The destruction was total and there was no sign of life. Their towns are deserted too. Of particular interest, however, is activity at New Salem, which I think may have been taken over by the invaders."

A huge screen blinked into focus along one wall of the conference center. It showed in graphic detail the destruction of the camp in the hills above the Sea of Gerizim. The recording included sickening close-ups of the bodies.

"It was them!" someone shouted. Many of the leaders present had witnessed this form of destruction among the towns and villages of their own sects. Archbishop General Lambsblood resignedly verified that what they were seeing was indeed the work of the alien invaders. The leaders were clearly shocked, but it was the shock of recognition, not of sympathy, because privately they all despised the self-assured holier-than-thou attitude of the neo-Puritan sect.

"Do you know why they removed themselves into the wilderness like that?" Nirmal Bastar asked.

"No, Swami Nirmal, I do not. But now I suppose that is, ah, ‘academic,’ shall we say?" De Tomas dared not smile at his remark, but to him it was hilarious. Nobody seemed to notice.

The lights dimmed suddenly and the ground trembled. The leaders shifted uncomfortably in their seats. The invaders had launched a salvo at the mountain, or at some nearby target. The hall went quiet for a few moments, and then someone asked, "Did any of them survive at all?" referring back to the City of God.

"I do not think so," de Tomas answered. Many heads nodded gravely. It was apparent to de Tomas that the assembled leaders thought the destruction of the City of God was good riddance to a potential thorn in everyone's side. Privately, de Tomas was as delighted as the others at the fate that seemed to have overtaken the neo-Puritans. They had always been a problem, since they were so hard to infiltrate and control. They eschewed entertainment of all types—for them, work and making families was "entertainment" enough—had no interest in news of the outside world, and considered illustrated Bibles the only form of art worthy of attention. Worst of all, they did not believe in public education but schooled their children at home and absolutely forbade them to participate in the Young Folk League.

The meeting dragged on for another hour. It was finally concluded that Archbishop General Lambsblood should seek a meeting with Brigadier Sturgeon and ask him to communicate his plans for breaking the siege to the members of the Convocation, although none thought he would.

Outside the meeting hall, as de Tomas was hurrying to get back to his headquarters, he stopped to greet Jayben Spears, the Confederation ambassador to Kingdom. He did not like the way Spears always looked at him, with a faint expression of disgust. De Tomas passed it off as the ambassador's unspoken hatred of the Collegium and what it stood for, which he could accept. But sometimes . . .

"Ah, Mr. Ambassador." De Tomas smiled and bowed politely.

"De Tomas." Spears nodded slightly, keeping his expression neutral.

"You missed a very interesting meeting."

"Yes?" Spears said.

"Yes. Are you here to see anyone in particular? May I get him for you, escort you there?" De Tomas smiled again.

"Don't bother. I know where I'm going," Spears answered. He brushed by de Tomas, avoiding his outstretched hand, and headed for the chairman's office.

De Tomas stood looking after Spears, a sardonic smile on his face, his unshaken hand still outstretched. He lowered it to his side. "Come see me sometime," he called after the ambassador. "Sit in on one of my interrogations! We'll have lunch after!"

Spears hunched his shoulders and did not bother to acknowledge the invitation. De Tomas laughed outright. Just then, the arrogant fool was beyond his reach. "But you just wait, you bastard," de Tomas whispered aloud, "you'll deal with me one of these days." He flexed his powerful arm. De Tomas was a legend among his minions because of his enormous physical strength. "I could end you with a blow," he whispered at Spears's receding back, "but honor and arms scorn such a foe," he added.