Gabriel's Stand (39 page)

It was early Monday morning in Manhattan, and Secret Service Special Agent Mix was standing under the awning of Snowfeather's apartment building. He was accompanied by Dr. Alex Fein, four secret service agents, Alice Canyon Hawke, and Roberto Kahn, the latter wearing his prayer shawl. Three Commission agents stood in the way. “What is your authorization, sir?” the Agent in Charge asked. Mix produced his badge. The Commission agent frowned. “Okay, you can go up with the mother and the lawyer, but not with the doctor.”

“I don't have time for this crap,” Mix said. He gestured to the other Secret Service agents, and four service pistols were drawn. The Commission agent stepped back. “Any trouble,” Mix said. “Don't bother to call me, just shoot 'em. All of 'em. I'll be back down as soon as the doctor is settled in.” Mix smiled at the President's physician. “After you, Doctor. Mrs. Lindstrom, Mr. Kahn…”

——

It was four hours later and President Chandler was still on the telephone from his quarters to Sam, a trusted advisor. “New winds are blowing, my friend. That's right, Sam, this will be my life insurance. When the Vice President resigns at noon today—yes he will too, that man not only owes me big time, I have something on him—when he resigns, we are not, I repeat not going to fill the vacancy.” There was a long pause. “Don't you get it? That puts our dear Speaker of the House, Thurston Smith, Junior, next in the line of succession if I'm suddenly removed or…killed.”

“Your life insurance.”

“Exactly. I tell you those Gaia bastards won't dare touch me as long as T.S. Smith is alive and kicking, and in line to take over the Presidency.” There was another pause. “Thank you. I thought it was clever, myself. And yes, I think you should tell the Speaker about this personally. Never thought I'd care what happens to that Mormon SOB, but now I do.”

The Vice Presidential vacancy took place as scheduled.

NEWS ALERT: FALL RESIGNS VICE PRESIDENCY: Rumors of Cancer Denied

Washington, DC.
Speculation was rampant today, as Vice President Steven Fall suddenly tendered his resignation for unspecified personal reasons. Party officials refused to comment, while late night show comedians prepared for an evening of…

——

“Do you still play chess, Louise?” the Baron's voice was clear over the encrypted line.

“What do you mean?” Berker asked.

“That weak president you supposedly control has made an astute move.”

“I admit I didn't see it coming. But we are planning several moves ahead. Just watch.”

“We can't wait.”

Tuesday, 5:00 A.M. EST - Upstate New York

He awoke from his dream in a darkened room…momentarily disoriented. Fred Loud Owl was back at the seminary dorm. The dream images still burned vividly in his memory. He decided to get up for a while and turned on the old lamp by his bed.

In the dream, he had been standing on the edge of an arroyo. Red earth and rocks stretched as far as he could see, all the way to a sharp horizon. Above him, hung the sky. It was sun-struck and blue, a limitless space, etched here and there with ice crystal clouds. A silver bird formed a twinkling speck at the outer limits of visibility. He had first noticed it because it left a thin contrail as it plummeted. Somehow he knew it was a great bird, falling from the sky. And he also knew, somehow, that the thin contrail, a faint red line that still connected falling bird to sky, was blood. Loud Owl felt a terrible dread.

And in the dream, he heard the distant whump-whump of a helicopter, its source near the falling bird, but invisible. The bird fell swift as a meteor, but somehow—in the vision—it fell slowly, like the memory of a disaster on horseback or in battle.
The bird should not be falling
, he thought, but it did.
There should not be the sound of a helicopter
, but there was.

As the bird shot past him down into the arroyo, into the shadows, he could see that it was a great gray eagle. A totem eagle. After a moment, the helicopter noise seemed to recede into the distance…like a dirge.

Loud Owl had now fully awakened, filled with dread and sadness, and the feelings lingered.

As he made coffee, he resolved to cancel his morning lecture. He would find a quiet place far from campus and think on this vision. This felt like a premonition but he didn't have a clue who he should warn…

The coffee bubbled and Loud Owl began looking for his old boots.

——

Many miles away, Dr. Owen sat up in his cell, straining to recall his own nightmare. The image eluded him, but he returned to sleep with a feeling of dread.

Tuesday, 9:00 A.M. PST - Seattle

“Your Honor,” Borah Wiggins began, “before any other trial proceedings occur, I must report that the House has acted.”

“I am aware of the resolution to rescind the Earth Restoration Treaty and repeal all the enabling legislation. But it takes two to tango. As of this moment, Mr. Wiggins, the Treaty is still the law of the land.”

“And this morning, I was advised that Senate President Pro-tem, Taft Castorini, has agreed that the U.S. Senate debate on the motion of Senator Jacobs of California to de-ratify the Earth Restoration Treaty will begin this very hour. The matter is being expedited.”

“I had not heard that. Well, keep me apprised, Counsel. But this trial will proceed.”

During this exchange between Wiggins and the judge, John Owen was sitting at the counsel table, his back to the row of reporters and cameras directly behind him. Dornan's man, Kurt, sat on the far left, his chair turned so that he could scan the room.

12:10 P.M. EST - Manhattan

Agent Mix listened from Manhattan as the Secret Service agent in DC pressed play:

“Snowfeather, this is Reporter Max…Max Cahoon. I believe I have been poisoned by a woman working with the Gaia Directorate. She is posing as a photographer named Karen Kanst assigned by the Times to the Owen trial. She will be carrying a mini camera at the trial. Late thirties, five nine, attractive, slender, dark eyes, very short blond hair, like it had been shaved recently. You've got to warn Owen. I am at the Holiday Wharf. Don't be surprised if they don't find me alive. Please hurry.”

“Thank you,” Mix said. “What are you waiting for? Warn them! My authority. Hurry! Oh, shit. Alert our people in Seattle. We need to find that photographer.”

9:21 A.M. PST - Seattle

The prosecutor began his opening statement in the case of Commission versus Owen. “Our evidence will show that this man, John L. Owen, performed an unlawful genetic experiment on himself. That—” the U.S. Attorney pointed towards the defense counsel table indicating Owen's right hand. “—is not the hand the defendant was born with. It is a genetic construct. A ‘Franken-hand' if you will—”

“OBJECTION!” Wiggins had lurched to his feet. “That is misconduct, Your Honor, if I have ever seen it. There is no place in this courtroom for such inflammatory and improper rhetoric.”

“Now, now, counsel. This court will not be swayed by mere rhetoric. Only the evidence counts. Continue, gentlemen.”

“May I say something, Judge?” John asked.

“Let your attorney do the talking, Dr. Owen,” Judge Wandright said. “Continue, counsel.”

——

At that moment, in a nearby Seattle hotel room, Ken Wang's phone rang. After a second, he frowned, waving frantically at Esther, Dornan's security coordinator across the room. “Pick up the extension,” he mouthed.

As Dornan's coordinator listened on the extension, she reached for her cellphone. “You've got to empty the courtroom then,” Ken shouted, “search all the reporters. Tell Kurt.”

As Ken listened, Esther was talking into her own phone. “Why the hell not?” Ken was saying. “At least call the U.S. Marshall's office!” Ken listened more, face reddening. “Damn. Okay, okay. Female. Blond. Short hair. Posing as a photographer. Repeat that description.” He turned to Dornan's coordinator.

Esther held her phone in one hand, the hotel phone against her ear. “Got it. Assassin in place,” she said into the encrypted cellphone. She was calling Kona Carpets. “Condition red,” she said into the cellphone. “Bloody blinking red. Plan Ghost? Yes, sir!”

——

A deputy U.S. Marshal entered the court at the rear just as Borah Wiggins stood to give his own opening statement. The deputy caught Alder's eye, and mouthed, “Need to talk.” Alder pulled at the sleeve of the Marshal who stood near the defense table and, after a whispered conference, left the counsel table. Dornan's man, Kurt, followed. This whole exchange took about three seconds. In this time, K had planned the path she would take to the door, removed the safety from her concealed weapon and braced herself unobtrusively against the seat.

12:30 P.M. EST - Washington, DC

The United States Senate was in special session. Senator Alfred Jacobs of California lifted his considerable bulk to his feet and activated his microphone. “If the Senator from Wyoming would yield,” he said, “this Senator would ask leave to request unanimous consent to suspend the rules to allow a former member of this body to address us on this matter of immense historical import. I refer to the Honorable Gabriel Standing Bear Lindstrom.”

Senator Castorini stood at the rostrum. “I support this motion and I wish to announce a change of position on the matter now before this body.” There was a sudden silence in the Chamber. Castorini had earlier been announced as a supporter of the Treaty, strongly opposed to cancellation. His announcement could be the swing vote. “But first, may we invite our former colleague to address us? Across the aisle, Senator Croft from Utah smiled and nodded at Dunn from Wyoming.

“I yield to the Senator from California,” Senator Carl Dunn said.

12:30 P.M. PST - Seattle

Borah Wiggins was speaking. “Once again, Your Honor,” he said. “The leadership of our Senate has agreed to support de-ratification. Surely a delay is in order. Does the court want to take up the jurisdictional issue at this time?”

“Assuming a vote is actually taken, is the Government prepared to argue this morning?” Judge Wandright asked.

As the U.S. attorney got to his feet, a member of Dornan's security contingent was standing at the side of the counsel table, hand inside his jacket, eyes scanning the courtroom, while Kurt was leaning over Alder, his mouth to the lawyer's ear.

“Mr. Alder,” Kurt whispered. “There is an assassin in this room. Judge Wandright has been compromised. Get a recess immediately! We've got to get Dr. Owen out of here!” John Owen turned in his seat, his expression curious, presenting his right side to the assassin.

Washington, DC - Channel 33 Feed

“The vote may take place any time.” A middle aged man with a headset stood, on camera, just outside the Senate Gallery.

“What's happening on the floor, Dereck?” The anchor, a blond woman in a severe suit, sat in the studio.

“We are waiting for the arrival of former Senator Gabriel Standing Bear Lindstrom. There. He has entered the building.”

“Can you confirm his arrival in the Chambers?”

“Not yet.”

“Thanks, Dereck. We'll be back to you. Here in the studio, I have Sylvia Mateer from the Congressional Quarterly. Thank you for joining us on such short notice.”

“Happy to oblige, Martha.” Mateer sat, hands folded, next to the anchor.

“Could you just bring our viewers up to date?”

“Yes. Ever since last session, when it was clear to the House leadership that the Commission does not appear to be bound by the U.S. Constitution, an informal debate has been going on about whether the U.S. should withdraw from the Earth Restoration Treaty.”

“It was signed by President Chandler and ratified by the U.S. Senate years ago. How can you undo a treaty-ratification?”

“Well, in the opinion of the House Speaker, T.S. Smith, and a number of legal experts, it can be done. It may require a Joint Resolution of Congress. …Which brings me to this morning's vote. At 1:44 A.M., the full House voted overwhelmingly for a proposed Joint Resolution to cancel the Treaty. That is the earliest vote in decades, I think. The House actually convened at noon yesterday. Now that measure was referred to the U.S. Senate for expedited consideration.”

“What are the prospects?”

“As of last week it looked to be too close to call. Thirty votes for, twenty against, the rest undecided. All these head counts, of course, are notoriously unreliable. This is in sharp contrast to the count in the House, which was almost two to one in favor of the resolution. It was a surprising margin and it gives the proponents of the resolution new momentum.”

“What happens if it does pass the Senate?”

“It would put the current administration in a huge bind. Most of the experts we have consulted agree that the legal authority of the Commission will disappear. Of course, the President seems to have taken a different position. If the Administration continues to try to enforce Commission regulations, there is talk of impeachment.”

“Hold on.” The anchor pressed her hand against a tiny earphone. “There is some action of the floor of the Senate. Dereck Small, what is going on?”

“Thank you, Martha. Gabriel Standing Bear has just entered the Chambers and is walking toward the podium. I hear the gavel.”

——

Gabriel stopped in the aisle and paused to shake a friend's hand, that of Senator Granville from Maine, the only opposing Senator who had survived the electoral purge after ratification. Gabriel looked around the room, at the old wood, the fine rugs, the Seal of the Senate, the American flag. The historical resonance was strong.

Flanked by Senator Jacobs, the Sergeant at Arms, and the Senate Chaplain, Gabriel continued his progress up the aisle. The applause was almost deafening. Everyone was standing. The gavel continued to rap, as the President Pro-tem tried to restore order. Gabriel noticed a few laptops and SmartPages on the desks on both sides of the aisle as he passed.
Good for you
, he thought.

“Half of them are still officially undecided, my friend,” Jacobs said in Gabriel's ear. “You get to talk for twenty minutes. After that, it's the vote.”

“You think they will listen?”

“We're counting on you, Gabriel, on your voice.”

Standing Bear set his face and gathered his thoughts
.
He stood looking out at a full Chamber, from a vantage rare during his own term. The chattering began to fade as he began speaking.

“My name is Gabriel Standing Bear, and…I am still standing.” The Senate Chamber burst into spontaneous applause. “You all know my record as a member of this body. I am deeply committed to the protection of nature for this generation and for all who follow us as its stewards. A gift to be cherished and protected.

“To the Directorate and their terrorist arm, the G-A-N, I have a message. You have failed to silence me.” The room erupted again.

After a full minute, Gabriel resumed. “Your secret is out. Deep inside your inner circle, we know what you talk about; we know what you think. You think Gaia is a living being, a God. You think Gaia is infected by a disease you call Homo ecophagus and we call humanity. Your agenda is to rid Gaia of the human disease. Your weapon is germ warfare on a truly massive scale. Your secret weapon is our disarmament. By stripping us of our weapons of self-defense, of our advanced medical knowledge and technology, you plan to achieve ultimate victory: the extermination of the human race.” The last six words were spoken in a soft staccato.

There was a deeply uneasy silence, then a chorus of, “No! No! NO!”

“But you did not count on an awakened American people. And you did not count on the courage and resolve of the United States Senate!” Half the room erupted in another round of sustained applause and some cheering. Some of the Senators were on their feet.

“Fellow Senators, we cannot escape history. As Abraham Lincoln said, ‘the fiery trial through which we pass, will light us down, in honor or dishonor, to the latest generation.'

“Our great nation has been captured. We are now an occupied country.” He paused. “It is high time to reclaim America.” The applause was deafening.

“We were not conquered just because of the crises in climate, economy and ecology. This nation has faced grave tests before and we emerged from them stronger than ever.

“No, our conquest was made possible because we forgot again that every human life is sacred. Our conquest was made possible because we forgot again about the human capacity to inflict catastrophic evil on ourselves. Our conquest was made possible because we forgot again the simple virtues of humanity, common sense and courage.

“And we forgot again that when people lose their grounding in the ultimate value of human dignity, they invite the ultimate degradation of human destruction. Whenever belief in the God-given rights of men and women diminish, the people tend to take up false ideologies; they begin follow the false gods. In the last hundred years, people embraced the false gods of Nazism and communism. And millions died in camps and gulags. In this century it was to a new false god, Gaia, the Earth-deity before whom humanity is reduced to the level of a bacillus. Our conquest was made possible because the American people were anesthetized by the drug of surrender.

“But I have good news. The patient has awakened. And the patient is mad as hell.”

An applause storm followed and after it died down, Gabriel resumed, his voice suddenly softer.

“These extremists want it all. My daughter, Snowfeather, heard it first from the Earth's Sisters, the secret cult behind the G-A-N. She was there with them when she saw Lance McKernon's body hanging from a pole, surrounded by the members of the Gaia Directorate. Our colleague. Our friend.

“Mark my words: This treaty was ratified because terrorists kidnapped and killed one of our own. And another good man is on trial for his life in Seattle today because he opposed their agenda.

“These terrorists and this evil regime can still be stopped. The end of our nation's occupation is a single roll call vote away.” Gabriel paused, looking out over the Senate Chamber, up at the gallery.

“I was thinking about these matters overnight, and about the soul of this great nation. There is a document, our birth certificate as a nation. I trust you will recognize these words.

“‘We are endowed by our Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness; to secure these rights governments are instituted among the people deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed; that whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these needs, it is the right of the People to alter or abolish it…'”