Christopher Nuttall - Democracy's Might

“We understand,” Tiberius said. “Perhaps we will even welcome them.”

Colin, suspecting he was being mocked, gave the younger man a long considering look, then stood up and headed for the hatch. Outside, Daria, Mariko, Salgak and Anderson were waiting for him. They’d watched the entire discussion through the sensors.

“You’ve heard what he had to say,” Colin said, once the hatch was firmly closed. He knew it was soundproofed. “Thoughts?”

“The Thousand Families underestimate us,” Salgak whirred. “Even if there are no major advancements in twenty years, the power of free competition will destroy them. Their skilled personnel will come work for us. Our facilities will produce better technology than their facilities. Those who had no choice, but to buy from them will buy from us instead. Their inflow of money will dwindle away until they run out of money. And then they too will fade away into nothingness.”

“Unless they are just trying to buy time,” Anderson objected. “Right now, they have nothing to lose by offering to surrender on terms. They’re going to lose their power and position anyway. But if they survive, in some form, they can plot to recover their power. It will take years to obliterate the patronage networks.”

He was right, Colin knew. Some clients were openly linked to their patrons. Others were far less obvious about their connections. It would take years even to identify them, let alone remove the clients from their posts. And if some of them were actually well-liked…

Daria and Mariko exchanged glances, then Daria stepped forward. “Hester will not be happy with the decision,” she said, “but I feel we should accept. Right now, we can win the battle, but lose the war. Given time, we can edge them out of the power structure completely and neutralise their threat to the economy.”

“They presumably know that too,” Anderson countered.

“But we can keep them under control, which is more than can be said for chaos,” Daria said. “I don’t think we can threaten starving rioters desperate for food to give to their families, let alone prevent piracy and outrages that will make the current situation look like nothing. We don’t have anything to threaten them with! There will be chaos on Earth — and across the Empire. We need to make the bargain, Colin. There’s no alternative.”

Colin hesitated. He wanted to make the Thousand Families pay, but Daria was right. They didn’t dare risk losing the rest of the economy. And Salgak, he hoped, was right too. Given time, the threat could be neutralised and rendered useless. The aristocracy would fade away, not with a bang, but with a whimper.

And no one else would have to die. He wouldn’t have to slaughter Home Fleet’s crewmen because their masters were too pigheaded to surrender, let alone take out Earth’s orbital industries or bombard the planet itself. The war could finally come to an end on excellent terms.

He stepped back into the conference room. “You’ll have your terms,” he said, slowly. “My people will occupy the high orbitals and Home Fleet’s starships, then land Marines in the High City itself. Your people will be protected.”

“I understand,” Tiberius said. He stood. “The Families Council will have no objection to your terms.”

Colin rather doubted it, but he kept that thought to himself. Maybe they would see sense after all.

He looked up as Daria brought in the single piece of paper, outlining the terms Tiberius read it quickly, then signed his name at the bottom with a real pen. Colin followed suit, wondering what would happen now. They’d won the war…

…And now they would have to win the peace.

Gaunt stared down at the communicator in her hand. “Did… did we just win ?”

“Yes,” Adeeba said. She grinned, remembering the naval myth of the Demon Murphy and how he messed everything up for those who cheered too soon. “Don’t jinx it.”

“This is how they live?”

Sidney walked down the streets of the High City, drinking in the weirdest complex he’d seen on any planet. The mansions were strange; they were built in a number of different styles, surrounded by gardens and tiny walls that offered no deterrent to someone who could climb. But, not unlike an asteroid settlement, it seemed that the walls merely marked someone’s property. Custom dictated that no one was allowed to cross the walls without permission.

“Yes,” the Sergeant said, simply.

“I don’t believe it,” Sidney said.

The handful of people on the streets seemed to be on shock. A couple of girls, both so stunningly pretty that they were almost inhuman, stared at the Marines and then fled, as if there were a pack of wild animals on their tail. Several servants looked at them with vague expressions of disapproval, then ignored the Marines completely. And a handful of underground fighters looked oddly disappointed. They’d been told that there would be no chance to loot.

“Just keep your eyes peeled open for trouble,” the Sergeant ordered. “Right now, everyone is trying to work out what the fuck just happened. But that is going to change.”

Sidney nodded. They’d been lucky, from what he’d picked up during the landing. Other regiments had been assigned to the orbital towers, spaceport complexes and food storage dumps. Some of them were bored, others were under near-constant attack from panicky civilians or rogue security forces. Earth had been a pressure cooker, held down by the Thousand Families. Now, the lid had been blown off. God alone knew where it would all end.

They’d won the war, he knew. Now they had to win the peace.

Colin had a fairly good idea of just how much wealth had been poured into the High City over the centuries. Each of the families, it seemed, had competed to see who could produce the most spectacular or tasteless building to add to the complex. But it still shocked him to see it in person as the shuttle flew over the city and landed in the small spaceport. There was enough money invested in the complex to feed Earth for hundreds of years.

“Colin,” Adeeba called, as he climbed out of the shuttle. “Welcome to Earth!”

“Thank you,” Colin said. He found himself giving her a tight hug. He’d missed her more than he cared to admit. “And Neil!”

“Good to see you again, sir,” Frandsen said, gravely. “And thank you for the reinforcements. It got a bit dicey here for a while.”

Colin grinned. “And Jeremy?”

“Recovering,” Adeeba said. “We had him taken to the local medical centre, along with the other POWs. Most of them were unharmed, just locked up for a month or so. Jeremy got a brain probe, but not a serious one.”

Colin shuddered. There was no such thing as a light brain probe. He’d read the medical reports on Penny Quick and found himself wondering, again, how she could bring herself to serve the Empire after being treated in such a matter. She’d come alarmingly close to losing her brain completely.

“The problem right now is the provisional government,” Adeeba said, as they started to walk down a garden path. “Half of the underground leaders are on it and the other half think they should be on it. And then there’s the fact that most of the people in charge of the infrastructure were appointed by the Empire…”

“Infighting will be the death of us,” Colin muttered. Mars seemed on the brink of civil war, while Venus and Earth were experiencing limited clashes between different forces. “Can’t you convince them to keep a lid on it?”

“Probably not for very long,” Adeeba said. “Earth doesn’t even have the basics of a democratic system. There’s no way to take a vote and even if we did, the ones who didn’t like it wouldn’t consider themselves bound by it. We’re trying to round up essential personnel now and transporting them off the planet, but that hasn’t pleased everyone.”