UNIVERSAL TURBULENT

XXII - PLANET EARTH

"If you think the wars ended fifty years ago, then think again. We continue to deal with rebellions, interplanetary disputes, and outlaw armies. The men, women, and cyborgs seen here were encouraged to fight for the Confederacy, only to be abandoned like so much trash".

The camera cut back to her face. She looked angry and determined. "Well, not any more! Thanks to their courage and skill, we can still take this planet back.

"I will serve as governor until the emergency is over and elections can be held. Complete details concerning my staff, our military arm, and related matters can be found on the net. A series of programmes describing your responsibilities and privileges will be broadcast around the clock. Please take the time necessary to view them.

"Remember, there is no reason to panic. You, your homes, and your livelihood are intact. The only thing that has changed is your status as second-class citizens. You are free!"

The politician adopted a somewhat stern expression. "Make no mistake, however, there are those who wish to deny your freedom and will do anything to restore the status quo. They may even go so far as to take up arms against us! Such efforts will be punished.

"With that in mind, it will be necessary to ask all active and reserve military personnel to report to their duty stations, lay down their arms, and await processing.

"Once that has been accomplished, all such men, women, and cyborgs will be invited to join our forces.

"Civilians must observe the posted curfews, obey travel restrictions, and avoid public gatherings".

Sandral smiled. It was warm and engaging. "We're sorry for the inconvenience these measures may cause and assure you that they will be lifted as soon as it's feasible to do so".

The director spoke into his headset, the video faded, and a variety of preproduced holos blossomed in its place. There were different versions for different audiences, each structured to accommodate the differences in language, culture, and religion still found on the planet.

Sandral had to give Quinn and his company credit. Having chosen representative sample populations, and conducted carefully disguised opinion polls, Zuon Inc.'s media experts had taken the most frequently heard themes and codified them into messages calculated to restate already existent biases and misconceptions: "The Confederacy wouldn't exist if it weren't for humans". "Terrans pay more than their fair share of taxes". And the ever popular "Aliens grow fat while our people starve" motif.

All of which distorted reality... But contained enough truth to be credible. The director gave a thumbs-up. "That's a wrap, folks. Nice job, Governor... You were 'on message'. Early results from the focus groups and sample pops look positive. Some negatives... Especially in certain pockets... But that's too be expected".

Sandral nodded her thanks, made her way across the Operations Center, and looked up toward a row of monitors. Fighting had broken out in New Orleans, and a gunship was strafing a high-rise hab complex. Windows exploded and flames appeared. "Some negatives", indeed. The politician headed for her makeshift office. She had com calls to make, VIPs to cajole, and a facial at 10:00.

* * *

Marco woke without knowing why. The room was dark. His bedclothes were around his knees. Air whispered through an overhead duct. It looked normal, but something was amiss. What?

Though not gifted with the supersensitive sense of smell that his Naa brethren had, the officer did have the ability to detect odors that most humans couldn't. What was that fragrance? An essence that seemed familiar, yet exotic. Then he had it... The nack-nack blossom. A rather hardy plant that plant that was native to Elgiron and prized for its scent. The only scent considered masculine enough for a warrior to wear.

Suddenly Marco knew that a Naa had entered his room... And was watching from the shadows. His hand slid toward his pillow and the sidearm hidden there. The damned thing had a tendency to migrate and...

Marco's movements were interrupted when a hand grabbed his arm and another covered his mouth. The voice belonged to Lieutenant Goodyear. "I'm really quite impressed. Only one human in a hundred would have detected our presence".

"Our?" The news that more than one individual had invaded Marco's quarters came as something of a shock.

"Can I remove my hand? You won't call out?"

Marco nodded and felt the hands leave his body. He sat and reached for the light. "I wouldn't do that if I were you", the intelligence officer cautioned. "They are watching your quarters".

"They?" Marco asked. "Who the hell are 'they'?"

"The mutineers", Goodear answered patiently. "They hope to seize the fort about forty-five minutes from now".

Marco stood, saw five or six figures in the shadows, and knew they were Naa. He grabbed his pants and pulled them on. He had all sorts of questions... Not the least of which had to do with the nature of the revolt. "How many?"

"At least sixty hard-core Cadre, plus an unknown number of sympathizers. Beyond then, it's my guess that most of the troops will back whoever looks strongest. Us, if we move quickly enough".

Marco felt his heart beat a little bit faster. Sixty! It was far more than he would have guessed. "Arms?"

The Naa shrugged. "It's hard to say, sir. We heard that one of our officers went over. He or she could open the armory".

Marco fished buttoning his shirt and and tucked the tails in. "Damn! Which one? Daniell?"

"Maybe", the Naa replied cautiously, "though I have no direct evidence of that. But this is bigger than Veil Bashu... I'm sure if that much".

"How?" Marco asked as he laced his boots. "How did you learn about this?"

"They tried to recruit Knifebuilder", the officer replied, "and he played along".

"We'll hang a medal on him", Marco said grimly, "assuming we win".

"Thank you, sir. That would be nice", Goodear said gravely, handing the officer his combat harness. "His village will be honored".

Marco looked up. "Dead?"

"Yes, sir. We found him about twenty minutes ago. His throat had been cut".