John Barnes - Daybreak Zero

The dance finished. The servant of Mister Atom proclaimed that he would fly to the moon, and from there, when he saw the Plaztatic World trying to come back into Mother Gaia’s sacred sphere, he would hurl his bolts against it. He would depend upon the People of Gaia’s Dawn to help him to watch, and sometimes to fight and die for Mother Gaia when he told them it was necessary.

Hunh.

No mistaking it. It claimed that they talked and worked with the Daybreak robot, or base, or whatever it was, on the moon. Thunderbolts from the moon wasn’t even a bad description for the caveman-grandchildren.

The rest of the play was a lengthy singing-and-dancing-and-fighting number. The servants and the Mizzes defeated the Misters with the help of Nanoswarm and Biotes. Mister Smart’s dick-and-balls prop was removed and ceremoniously paraded around while he cried out at the loss. Gaia buried him alive (because he could not be killed) and all the servants vowed to sit eternal vigils at Mister Smart’s tomb against his rising.

In a big erotic dance number, the Mizzes rewarded the servants by making children with them—Larry thought that the former servant of Mister Chemical, who got Miz Ocean, got one hell of a good deal. The unfortunate servant of Mister Atom had to be childless, so he said farewell, charging the People of Gaia’s Dawn with reducing the remaining population of the Earth to about ten million before ascending the ladder into the sky. I suspect that’s some cousin of the Indian Rope Trick, but it sure works well at a distance, by firelight.

This was the cue for the last big number, a dancing demonstration about how there were tens, and tens of tens, and tens of tens of tens, up finally to 8×10 9, the population before Daybreak, which had been cut down to 2×10 9, which now must be reduced to 10 7.

Jesus god. They’ve killed three-quarters of the people who were alive this time last year and the Servant of Mister Atom just told them to kill 199 out of every 200 that are left.

In all the celebratory cheering and whooping, Larry grasped Debbie’s arm and squeezed:

u right

She squeezed back:

we go now

He squeezed C .

Drifting through the crowd, agreeing with everyone who stopped them to say that it gave you so much to think about, they passed into the darkness outside the camp, and jogged away as quickly and quietly as they could. They were less than halfway up the ridge when they heard the angry cries behind them, and ran as if all hell were at their heels.

General Jeffrey Grayson leaned across Cameron Nguyen-Peters’s desk and forced himself not to shout; the sound that emerged from Grayson’s clamped throat was a strained, half-voiced whisper. “You have apparently forgotten that you are not a king. You can’t just dissolve the legislature—”

“This is not a dissolution because I’m neither calling a new election nor appointing replacements. And the Board of Advisors to the NCCC of the Temporary National Government is not a legislature. It makes no laws and its votes are binding only on its internal organization. So the man who is not a king is not dissolving the body that is not a legislature. What are you so upset about, General Grayson?”

“Some people will say this looks like the start of a dictatorship.”

“That’s the safest prediction in American politics, whenever any part of the government does anything. Look, if it hasn’t occurred to you, General, in 2026 there will be full national elections, in at least our territory, Provi territory, and the states that haven’t committed firmly to either side. If we are shrewd, diplomatic, and lucky, we might be able to get California and Manbrookstat, and maybe even Hawaii, to come in too. Do you remember your oath, General?”

“I take my oath very seriously.”

“But do you remember it? Because in 2026, if we don’t screw things up— and the PCG doesn’t—we are going to put the Constitution back into force. That’s what your oath said, preserve, protect, and defend—”

Grayson glowered at him. “I don’t need a review—”

“I disagree, but I’ll refrain from further lecture. Meanwhile, go home early for the weekend, along with the other officers.”

“Along with the—”

“Naturally we have to keep the frontier with the tribes on alert, but otherwise, General, being realistic, the Provis are not going to attack us, at least not soon; the Jamaicans or the Cubans or whoever are not going to land in the Gulf and the Mexican government barely has one functional regiment, which spends all its time and effort guarding their alleged government at Veracruz. So there’s a low risk of attack, and because it’s been a long time since people had time off, I issued a large number of leaves for the weekend, particularly to commanding officers in safe areas. Some of them went on leave early this morning and will be back Sunday night; some will go on leave this evening for a Monday night return.”

The general’s face was slack at the realization. “You’ve neutered the Army.”

“Nonsense. Every facility is functional and has proper command—admittedly they are junior officers, aware they lack authority to jump into anything big on their own hook, but in a sudden attack or emergency, they’d show the required initiative. Excellent status for an army on standby. Why, General, were you expecting an invasion? a rebellion? a coup?”

Grayson opened his mouth but nothing came out.

Cam sat forward, folding his hands over each other, and said softly, “Now, listen closely. I am giving you a leave from now till noon Tuesday. Out of my own pocket, in fact, I’ve set you up in a nice bed-and-breakfast in Savannah, and I’ve taken the liberty of securing train tickets for you and Jenny. She’s already packing; just go home, get into your civvies, and go spend a few days. It’s on me, it’s a bribe, and I want you to take it like a sensible fellow—even if you decide later you can’t go anywhere with me politically. We all might as well cool off, and we can be unpleasant later if you wish.”

Grayson stood stock-still and said, “And you already set it up with Jenny?”

“Yes I did. You wouldn’t want to disappoint her.”

Grayson’s face showed how potent that threat actually was. Beaten for the moment, he shrugged. “We’ll talk more next week.”

“Or sometime soon,” Cameron said. “You are still my deputy and I still want you to keep that position. Now quit thinking about politics, take your pretty girl away for the weekend, and relax as much as you can. I don’t want to have to make that an order.”

Grayson hadn’t yet made up his mind about what he wanted to do, but when Jenny opened the door and she was wearing one of her “show me off” dresses, her hair brushed, and some of the precious cosmetics applied, he laughed and said, “I guess it’s the decision of the household executive that we ought to accept the Natcon’s bribe?”

“It is,” she said, letting him in and standing on tiptoe to be kissed. “The men are harnessing the buggy and they’ll bring it back for us— and give Thunder and Fireball full and proper care afterward—as you know perfectly well. So you get to drive me to the station, accompanied by two burly types who will move our luggage. I’ve packed your civilian clothes so that you will not be striding around Savannah in uniform, scaring people and starting rumors. And Daddy’s at work on our response to Cameron’s coup.”