Embers of Rebellion, page 18
“Governor,” Decimus said, giving Jackson the slightest nod.
Jackson fell to one knee. Caleb hastily followed suit. “Senator, thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
“You may stand, Governor,” Decimus said, waving them up. “I take it this is your son?”
“Yes, sir. This is Lieutenant Caleb Hawthorne,” Jackson replied.
“Second Lieutenant, is it not?” Decimus asked, raising an eyebrow as his piercing gaze settled on Caleb.
“It is, sir,” Caleb answered, his voice steady despite the chill running down his spine.
“And you’ve had a little trouble with the Regulators, I believe,” Decimus remarked with a faint smirk. “Though I suspect that is not why you are here, Governor, is it? No,” Decimus continued, not giving Jackson a chance to respond.
“You’re here about Bill 796, aren’t you? As always.” He nodded to himself as though confirming his own thoughts. “Well, you aren’t going to wrangle any more concessions out of me. The hour is far too late for that. And besides, the full details of the bill have been public for weeks now. You have no more leverage. I, on the other hand…” Decimus trailed off as his gaze shifted back to Caleb, his stare sharp and calculating.
Caleb’s stomach twisted. He could feel the weight of the threat in Decimus’ eyes.
“I am not here to barter for my son,” Jackson said, his voice firm, though Caleb could sense the tension underlying it. “I am here to plead with you.”
Decimus turned back to Jackson and let out a sharp laugh. “Plead? You went to all the trouble to arrange a meeting with me, and now you say you are here to plead?” He shook his head, his amusement clear. “Well, at least this meeting is already more enjoyable than our last.”
“Can you not be reasoned with?” Jackson took a step forward, his voice rising with passion. “Have you no compassion? You know what this bill will do to my people and billions of others. It’s not too late for you to oppose it. I’ve spoken with many of the leading Councilors. If your faction proposed reducing tariffs, it could have a chance of passing in an open vote.”
Caleb’s anger simmered as memories of the Ring’s sights and smells flashed through his mind. Decimus wasn’t ignorant—he had to know the conditions his people lived in. He had to know what kind of life awaited those forced to flee the Rim worlds due to the economic devastation Bill 796 would unleash. Caleb’s anger spiked further when Decimus simply laughed again at Jackson’s plea.
“You overstep the mark,” Decimus said, wagging a finger at Jackson. “Who are you to tell me what to do in my own system?” His voice hardened, each word cutting like a blade. “If this weren’t so amusing, I’d have you thrown out—or arrested.”
Decimus let the threat linger in the air as his sharp gaze bore into Jackson. Caleb saw his father lower his eyes, and when Decimus turned to him, though his mind burned with anger, Caleb found himself looking down within seconds. Shame filled him as he did.
Decimus nodded, satisfied with their submission. “That’s better. Now, let’s forget about this bill. It’s going to pass, and when it does, it will be my responsibility to look after my people—not yours. You concern yourself with your tiny little colony, Governor.
“Instead, let us discuss something far more interesting. Your son will soon be facing an inquiry into his actions with that passenger ship.” Decimus leaned forward slightly, his smile more predatory than friendly. “In fact, I have it on good authority that the inquiry has been moved up. It will begin in just a week’s time. So, how about we talk about its outcome?”
Decimus paused for effect, his smile widening as he continued. “I also hear that the factories and orbital construction yards on your planet are working very well,” he said, his tone almost conversational. “You played the game well, Governor, to force those concessions from me. However, circumstances have changed.” He let his words hang in the air before delivering his ultimatum. “I think it’s time they were shut down.”
Out of the corner of his eye Caleb saw his father clench his fists. “You know those industries are the only hope my colony has of surviving what is coming,” Jackson hissed. “And you would strip them from us?”
Decimus shrugged as if it was nothing. “I would simply return things to the way they were. You have no leverage over me now…” Once again, Decimus’ gaze shifted to Caleb.
“So you would make me choose between my world and my son?” Jackson asked, his voice low but filled with restrained fury.
Decimus’ lips curled into a wide smile. “Now we are getting somewhere interesting. Life is hard, Governor. We all have difficult choices to make from time to time. So, my friend, where does your heart truly lie?”
Jackson half-turned to meet Caleb’s gaze. He gave his son a sad smile, then turned back to Decimus. “Any man who would force someone to choose between his people and his son is no leader of mine. You bring shame to your position and to all of Beowulf. Good day, Senator.”
Without bowing, Jackson spun on his heels and began walking steadily back toward the large doors they had entered through. If anything, his head was held even higher than when he had walked in.
Caleb stared at his father in amazement, stunned by his boldness. Then he spun back toward Decimus. A mix of emotions rippled across the Senator’s face—shock quickly turned to anger, then rage. “No one walks away from me!” Decimus roared, raising a fist. “Your colony will be destroyed! And I will have your son!” His wrathful eyes fixed on Caleb.
Without hesitation, Caleb spun and charged after his father. Decimus hurled insults and curses after them. Even after they closed the doors behind them, his enraged voice could still be heard echoing down the corridor.
“Well,” Jackson said, sounding unbelievably calm—though Caleb’s heart was racing. “That went even worse than I expected.”
“He knows everything that’s going to happen to his Rim colonies!” Caleb protested, his voice filled with disbelief. “And he doesn’t even care!”
“Maybe it wasn’t entirely a waste of time then,” Jackson said, glancing at Caleb with a faint smile.
“That’s why you brought me?” Caleb asked, his frustration rising.
“You needed to see for yourself. This is what we’re up against.”
“He was never going to help us, was he?” Caleb pressed.
“No,” Jackson admitted. “He was never going to help.”
“Then this was all for me?” Caleb asked, his voice quieter now.
“Mostly,” Jackson acknowledged. “I needed to be sure. And there were others who wanted me to make one last attempt. I knew it would be a waste of time, though I didn’t think it would go that badly.”
“He’s going to make it even harder for us to stop the bill now, isn’t he?” Caleb said, worry creeping into his voice.
“I don’t think so,” Jackson replied slowly, his tone measured. “He still can’t outright tell his councilors to vote for the bill. If he did, every Outer Core and Rim colony would then blame him for what will eventually happen. No, he still needs plausible deniability, so his hands are tied.” Jackson glanced at Caleb again, his expression grim. “Though after the vote, he’ll do whatever he can to ruin us.”
“My career is over,” Caleb said quietly. As the words left his mouth, he realized he wasn’t as devastated by the thought as he was sure he should have been. How could he serve in a Navy that supported the man he had just turned his back on?
“I’m afraid so,” Jackson said, clapping Caleb on the shoulder with a grin. “Good thing I’ve had something else planned for you all along, isn’t it?”
Caleb narrowed his eyes at his father.
“What? Too soon?” Jackson asked, his grin widening slightly.
“I haven’t agreed to anything yet,” Caleb replied sharply. “And the vote hasn’t even happened yet.”
“Well, it will happen tomorrow,” Jackson said, his tone growing serious. “And after that, things are going to move fast—very fast.”
“Tomorrow?” Caleb gasped. “Then what are we going to do? What else do you have planned?”
“A speech,” Jackson said simply, his expression unreadable. “Everything now rests on a speech.”
Chapter 16
Beowulf, 11th May 4747 AD.
The next day, Caleb woke up to a message from his father sent directly to his implant: Wear your uniform.
He dressed quickly and headed down to the residence’s main dining room. To his surprise, the Governor of Battenburg was seated beside his father. Captain Aubrey was there in his uniform, along with Rebecca and the rest of Jackson’s senior aides. Jackson waved Caleb over. “Come and sit,” he said before sharing a look with Rebecca. She vacated the seat beside Jackson, giving Caleb a nod.
“Is she leaving again?” Caleb asked as Rebecca didn’t take another seat but exited the dining room entirely.
“Rebecca has important things to do today. Don’t worry about her,” Jackson said. He gestured toward the man beside him. “Now, I believe you met Governor Luther Halbrook back on Newport.”
Caleb leaned forward to see past his father. “Governor,” he said with a polite smile and nod. As far as Caleb knew, Battenburg was the most developed colony after Newport to have signed Jackson’s secession pledge. It was clear they were preparing to present a united front.
“Lieutenant,” Halbrook returned the nod with a smile of his own. “I’m glad to see you in uniform. It will make the Senators take note.”
Caleb frowned, confused. He thought his father was making a speech in front of the House of Councilors, not the Senate. “Are you ready, Father?” he asked after giving his breakfast order to a serving girl who appeared at his side.
“As ready as I’m going to be.”
“Ha! He’s been planning this speech for months,” Halbrook said with a hearty laugh. He took a long sip of his coffee before continuing. “If he’s not ready now, he never will be.”
“Are you confident?” Caleb asked Halbrook.
Halbrook shrugged in a manner that reminded Caleb of his father the night before. “Who knows. Words can be powerful, but we cannot rely on the Councilors. Either way, we are as ready as we’re going to be.”
“Exactly,” Jackson agreed. “So why don’t we enjoy one last breakfast together without talking shop?”
Caleb wasn’t sure how they were going to avoid the topic looming over them, but he nodded in agreement. Over the next several minutes, Caleb was reminded of his father’s political skill. With ease, Jackson steered the conversation away from the House of Councilors vote and onto Halbrook’s homeworld of Battenburg. Then he began asking Caleb about his journey to Beowulf and his stay in the Senator’s Palace—all while carefully avoiding the experiences that had turned Caleb’s heart against the Republic.
For a moment, it felt like a natural breakfast with his father, something Caleb hadn’t experienced in nine years. He is good, Caleb admitted to himself as he gradually relaxed and began to enjoy simply spending time with his father. Soon, he found himself asking about the past nine years in the Navy and how his father had been during that time.
All too soon, the meal was over. “Well, back to reality,” Jackson said as he stood. “The aircars are leaving in ten minutes. I suggest you freshen up now—there may not be a chance once we get there. I’m afraid we’ll have to sit through the entire debate from the beginning.”
Caleb nodded and returned to his room. Everyone in the Republic knew that once a House of Councilors session began, it could last all day—or even longer, depending on how contentious the issue was.
Half an hour later, their aircars touched down on one of the parliamentary building’s thousands of landing pads. Though Alexander had already taken Caleb on a tour of the massive structure, it was just as impressive the second time. The building was a perfect black cube, measuring half a mile in height, length, and width. Surrounding it were hundreds of golden statues, each depicting one of the Beowulf Councilors who had served in the House over the centuries.
Newport’s single Councilor was waiting to greet them. He stood out in his traditional blue-and-red toga, the attire all Councilors wore. Caleb had never been able to figure out why they dressed this way. Supposedly, it was a tradition dating back to the Republic’s founding, but there were no records explaining its origins. The Councilor bowed slightly to Jackson as he approached.
“Governor, everything is ready. You will be the twenty-seventh to speak. Only four others are scheduled after you,” Arthur Pendra said.
“Excellent work, Arthur,” Jackson replied. “What’s the latest count?”
“As best as we can guess, the Gemini faction holds fifty-seven percent of the vote. That’s dropped by two percent overnight, but it’s still a very healthy margin, I’m afraid,” Arthur said.
Jackson sighed, and Caleb saw a flicker of defeat pass across his face. “That’s a lot of Councilors to try and persuade.”
“It is,” Arthur agreed. “But you won’t be the only one speaking today. Most of yesterday’s speakers were from the Gemini faction, and they still lost two percent overnight.”
“Well, let’s get on with it. There’s only one way to find out if this works,” Jackson said, setting off towards the House of Councilors.
In the tour Alexander had arranged for Rebecca and him, Caleb had only been allowed to look down on the Great Councilor Chamber from one of the viewing platforms. This time, Arthur took them right into the chamber and to his personal booth. Every one of the four thousand two hundred Councilors had their own booth, arranged in concentric rows connected to the chamber walls, reaching all the way up to the ceiling. Like the House of Councilors itself, the chamber was a perfect square.
In the center of the chamber, a large robotic arm protruded from the ground. During the tour, Caleb had watched as it reached up, detached one of the booths, and brought it to the floor so the Councilor inside could address all their peers.
As Jackson’s delegation took their seats, Arthur made sure everyone was in the appropriate place. With twenty-six speakers scheduled before Jackson, they settled in for a long wait.
At first, Caleb listened intently to the arguments, hoping something might be said to sway the Councilors planning to vote for Bill 796. Quickly, though, he realized most of the speeches were filled with bickering and petty grievances. Old disagreements and insults from past debates were dragged up. Even outright personal attacks were hurled. The meeting was nothing like what Caleb had imagined or been taught to believe it would be.
They don’t care, Caleb realized as he began paying attention to who was speaking. Most of them were from Inner Core worlds. It won’t affect them.
Eventually, some speakers from Outer Core worlds began to take center stage. Caleb perked up, thinking their arguments might offer something more substantial. However, their speeches weren’t much better. Confused, Caleb used his implant to pull up more information on each speaker. A pattern quickly emerged. All of them were exceedingly wealthy.
They’ve used their positions to enrich themselves, Caleb thought bitterly. Even if their colonies fail because of the subsidies these new colonies will get, they’ll just move to an Inner Core world and live in luxury.
Caleb felt his hope fading, even in his father’s ability to sway the chamber. Then, a new booth was brought to the center of the chamber by the mechanical arm. A young Councilor stood up from her seat and waved for silence. She was by far the youngest Councilor Caleb had seen, and she carried herself with a calm but determined air. Caleb guessed she couldn’t be much older than he was.
His implant identified her as Sarah Shackleton, the Councilor of Solaris, a Rim world whose population exceeded the necessary five hundred million. The first Councilor from her world! Caleb realized, intrigued. Curious, he pulled up a star map through his implant and saw that Solaris was in the Eridani Sector, just to the galactic east of Newport.
When the Councilors finally quieted down, Caleb leaned forward, eager to hear Sarah speak.
“My fellow Councilors, I know I am new here, and my voice carries little weight,” Sarah began in a loud, clear voice, “but I must beg you to show mercy to my homeworld.” She paused, letting her words settle before continuing. “Solaris sits on the edge of the Rim in the Eridani sector. We primarily grow corn and wheat, much of which is exported to six neighboring Rim worlds to the south of us. They raise livestock that, in turn, is sent coreward.
“You know that I represent over five hundred million people who live on Solaris. Twice as many again live on the six worlds that are our primary trading partners. All of our futures hang in the balance. The subsidies Bill 796 proposes are simply too high for my world and our neighbors to compete with. Our economies will be bled dry, and up to ninety percent of our people will lose their livelihoods.”
Her voice grew more desperate. “Surely there is another way? Please, I ask you not to destroy my homeworld in the pursuit of new colonies in the north. Can we not live together, supporting one another?”
Laughter rang out around the chamber—primarily from the sections where the Gemini faction sat, though not exclusively.
Sarah’s voice hardened as she tried to speak over the laughter and jeers. “Solaris will not be voting for this bill, and I implore every other Councilor with a conscience to do the same. We all must do what is right, not what is politically expedient” she declared before sitting down. More laughter and mocking shouts followed as her booth was lifted and returned to its position along the chamber wall.
Caleb couldn’t help but be impressed. Sarah’s arguments hadn’t been particularly deep or persuasive, but her passion had been. “At the end of the day, it’s that simple,” Caleb muttered to himself. “Either you care about the people on these colonies, or you don’t.” That was how the vote would be decided.
Over the next forty minutes, several Councilors spoke in favor of the bill, but two more Rim Councilors made similar pleas to Sarah’s. Caleb noticed his father and Arthur exchanging glances as they spoke—surprised, it seemed, by who was speaking. Surprising or not, the outcome was the same. The Rim Councilors’ words were met with laughter and jeers, and their booths were returned to their places along the chamber wall.
