“To the children of Israel, God spoke through Moses, at a time when they needed to hear him most. Israel listened, and with great faith, they conquered nations and empires.
“To Jew and Gentile alike, God spoke through the Christ, the Prophet-Messiah, at a time when their hearts were darkened, turned everywhere but to God. Those who listened went on to dominate the empires of Europe and America for millennia.”
That didn’t make sense in Aisha’s head. He leaned over to his boss. “I thought the Christians were pacifists.”
“They are now,” Riahn replied quickly. “Weren’t always that way. Now shush.”
“To the pagan tribes of Arabia,” Morvan went on. “God spoke through the prophet Muhammed. Those who listened subdued many peoples and nations in the name of God and went on to form a great civilization.”
Aisha typed a revelation as it hit him:
Strong appeal to Abramists in his party.
“To Persia, God spoke through the Bab and the Baha’u’llah. Many refused to listen. But to those who listened, to those with patience . . .” He spread his hands and gazed around the house floor. “God granted the greatest empire in the history of mankind.”
Applause picked up somewhere in the ranks of representatives and spread through the chamber, lasting probably five seconds. Impressive, considering all were supposed to remain silent and orderly for this portion of the debate. Morvan raised his hands to stop the applause.
“But to whom much is given, much is required.” He paused, taking on a more mournful look. “Sierra Falco, our dear prima filia, has been killed. Her death was clearly not an accident, nor was it the work of amateurs. It was a purposeful, military attack against our republic.”
Another bout of applause began, but again, Morvan cut it off. “Today, as God spoke to many peoples in many times the message they desperately needed to hear, so, too, does God speak to us.”
Aisha paused from his thumb-tapping and watched, listened. He could have heard a stylus drop on the other side of the chamber.
“His message is one that echoes through the ages,” Morvan said. “In the days of Noah, God sent the Great Flood to purge the Sacred Planet of evil. In the days of Moses, he sent ten plagues upon the pagans of Egypt to free his people from their chains. In the days of Muhammed, God used the faithful to suppress the unbelievers and save the world from corruption. Today, God has a message for those who would listen. And his message is this . . .”
Riahn leaned over the railing, watching with wide, unblinking eyes.
Morvan’s hand balled into a fist on the lectern. “
Rise
.
Up.
Rise up, people of Carina!” Applause built from the floor, but he kept on, talking over it. “Rise up in defense of your holy heritage! Rise up for all you hold dear! Rise up in defense of your brothers and sisters on the Sacred Planet who live, even now, in the shadow of the Heathen King.”
He paused to let the applause taper. “There is a darkness rising in the galaxy, a new Babylon that dwarfs the Babylon of old, and we cannot afford to shut our eyes to it. That darkness is the barbaric feudalism of the Sagittarian Regnum.”
The audience responded with a bout of ovation.
“We must face it. We must contain it. And ultimately . . . we must eradicate it.”
The applause reached a peak, but Morvan had one last thrust.
“This, people of Carina, is our calling. It is our burden. We must avenge Sierra’s death. We must defend our homeworlds. And we must make safe the Sacred Planet, for now and forever.”
Representatives stood in a wave, showing their approval. The cavernous chamber roared with praise.
Riahn straightened, smiling, and slowly began to clap. And Aisha felt a strange sensation, like a force working in them all, powering the cogs of this political machine, pulling everyone along in its current. A movement far bigger than Aisha, than Riahn, than Morvan, or even Falco. Aisha felt the hand of God in this chamber, and it terrified him. Why would he be afraid in the presence of the loving God? And why would the God of peace and unity call them to war? Was the Sacred Planet in danger? So many questions whirled in his head.
As Morvan stepped off the podium and the applause died down, Aisha whispered to his boss, “Why the bit about the Sacred Planet? What’s Earth got to do with the prima filia?”
Riahn held his smiling gaze on Aisha for a moment, then patted him on the shoulder. “Come on, my boy. We have more work to do.”
Elan Falco slammed his fist onto the Izowood desk. “You went
behind my back
to form a coalition? This is unacceptable!”
He stood behind his broad, yellow-tan desk, made from the timber of Baha’runa’s signature tree: Izo. Durable as steel yet flexible as rubber, marvelously appropriate for the prime minister. At least Riahn thought so. Elan Falco governed from staunch principles, but his ministerial appointments often swayed him like an Izo tree in the wind. Even now, he scowled in stern disapproval, but the bags under his puffy eyes spoke volumes of his frailty. Family men did not make for the kinds of politicians who led galactic superpowers.
Lexar Tahn, the dutiful Minister of Justice, sat in a chair beside Falco’s desk, legs crossed and fingers steepled, features furrowed in a concerned grimace. Clearly, he sided with the prime minister, as most Unificationists inevitably would. Riahn, on the other hand, was unique—a bridge-builder among islanders, neither partisan nor ideologue.
“Now, hold on, Mister Prime Minister,” Riahn said with open palms. “It wouldn’t be accurate to say we went
behind your back
. You’ve just lost your eldest daughter. We wanted to be sensitive.”
Ulrich Morvan, sitting in the next chair over, added in a soft voice, “If I were in your position, I’d want to spend this time grieving, not politicking.”
Falco relaxed a bit, sighed, and slumped into his seat. “Believe me, I’d like to grieve. It’s all I feel capable of right now. But I have a job to do, and I want to do it. When my ministers withhold crucial information from me, like forming a war coalition, I can’t very well do my job, can I?”
Tahn, draped in the pristine white of his former appointment as a House of Justice councilman, drew in a sharp breath. “What bothers me most,” said the minister, some hodgepodge of Asian-Pacific races Riahn couldn’t pinpoint, “is the suggestion we ought to bypass a full investigation.”
“With all due respect, Minister,” Morvan said. “A full investigation would be a waste of both time and opportunity. All preliminary reports indicate this was a
professional, military
attack on an official Carinian ship, which is more than enough for a resolution of just cause, is it not?”
“But we don’t have any idea
who
carried out the attack,” Tahn insisted. “Could’ve been Orionite paramilitaries or a rogue Sagittarian lord. It could’ve been friendly fire for all we know.”
“
Please
, Minister Tahn,” Morvan said. “You can’t seriously believe that. An attack of this sophistication could’ve come from only one source, and that is the Sagittarian Regnum.”
“We don’t
know
that!” Tahn protested. “Until they claim responsibility or we have some proof.”
Morvan shook his head. “That’s a naive way of thinking. They want to abuse our legal system by hiding in the shadows, prevent us from gaining the prerequisites for a resolution of just cause.”
“So what do you suggest?” Falco jumped in. “Throw out our law altogether?”
“No, but we should reform our war powers laws to reflect modern challenges, as we Dominionists have been saying for decades.”
“The Reformists, too,” Riahn added gently.
“Yes, the Reformists are with us on this front.”
Tahn bristled. “The fact remains that we have no intel to suggest the Sagittarians carried out this attack.”
“Another fact is that no one besides the Sagittarians could have possibly carried it out,” Morvan fired back.
The wrinkles on Tahn’s forehead deepened. “That’s not true, and you know it. Some Orionite groups have the capability. The Sagittarian nobles from Lagoon Nebula could have done it, and they’re only a few dozen gates from Owl.”
Morvan rolled his eyes. “Very well then. It’s
materially
possible someone else carried out the attack, but it’s politically impossible. When the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, did the Americans need to conduct a full investigation to find out who did it? Was it possible the Germans could’ve carried out the attack? Or the Russians, or the Chinese? No, everyone knew it was the Japanese. It’s the same in this instance.”
Tahn recoiled. “You can’t compare this to Pearl Harbor. They’re worlds apart.”
“I want to address Earth,” Falco said. Displeasure emanated from him like heat. “Ulrich, I see
no
reason to have brought up the Sacred Planet in this debate.”
Morvan looked him in the eye, not backing down. “Elan, there’s no denying we have a special relationship with Earth. Carina has duties to the True Religion as much as it does to her own defense.”
“The True Religion wasn’t attacked!” Falco boomed. “My daughter’s yacht was attacked! And frankly, Ulrich, your invoking of religion is uncalled for and offensive.”
Morvan’s eyes fell away. He folded his hands over his lap and stayed quiet for a moment. The silence was thick enough to slice. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend you. I only said what I believe is best for the republic.”
“If I may,” Riahn cut in. “The worry is about pilgrimage. A billion Carinians make their pilgrimage to Earth each year, and they want to be assured of its safety in the midst of crisis. If we are vulnerable to attack, what’s to stop our enemies from attacking Earth as well?”
Morvan continued the line of logic seamlessly. “And if we show ourselves weak and sluggish right now, the Carinian people will feel no assurance that Earth is safe.”
Minister Tahn’s eyelids fluttered in annoyance. “Typical Dominionist response. Every conflict that arises must somehow be about Earth. It’s demonstrably
not
about Earth.”
“Do you not believe that the safety of Earth is of vital interest to Carina?” Morvan asked in astonishment. “Of the Carinian pilgrims?”
“Of course it is,” Tahn answered. “But I’ll remind you that we have
no
evidence the Sagittarians want control of Earth! How many times must I say it? Just think: Why would the Heathen King want an impoverished, overpopulated, resource-stripped planet that draws most of its income from
religious pilgrimage
?”
Morvan sat up a little taller for emphasis. “To become the dominant force in the galaxy.” He enunciated each word with care and precision. “We know Zantorian is ambitious, likely just as ambitious as Vradiman was. And he’s following the same pattern as his predecessor. Vradiman dedicated most of his life to domestic issues, uniting the aristocracy, building up his defenses. Everyone in Carina thought he was harmless. Then in his later years, he turned his attention outward, and where did that lead? Twenty years of colony wars, most of which he won.”
“I am aware of our history, Mister Morvan,” Tahn said. “But we are not doomed to repeat it, unless it is by our own volition.”
“Zantorian is doing the same thing as Vradiman,” Morvan blazed on, unperturbed. “And now we’re receiving reports that he’s pressuring the few independent lords to join the Regnum, too. Soon, he’ll have over a thousand systems under his rule.
Over a thousand
.”
“You sound a bit jealous,” Tahn said.
Riahn snickered before cutting himself off and clearing his throat.
Morvan eyed the Minister of Justice in deep offense. “What a childish thing to say. I don’t slander you when we disagree.”
“It wasn’t an insult,” Tahn said. “It was an observation. It sounds as if you’d like Carina to be just as aggressive and chauvinist as the Regnum.”
Morvan huffed and sat back, waving his hand. “I’m sorry. I won’t listen to this. And I doubt the people will either. They’re smart enough to know we shouldn’t stick our heads in the sand when attacked.”
“
Enough!
” Falco exclaimed, pounding his fist on his desk. He gave them a moment to let the tension subside. “Ulrich, do you have any
concrete
intelligence to suggest that Zantorian would target Earth?”
“Concrete?” Morvan said. “No. But the logic is there. He knows Earth is valuable to us. He knows billions make their pilgrimage there. To have it under his rule would be an indomitable trump card against us. In this situation, the one who controls Earth controls the galaxy.”
“What do you suggest, then?” Tahn asked. “Annex Earth? Declare war on the Terran Confederacy
as well as
the Regnum?”
“Lexar’s right,” Falco said. “Earth is an Orionite planet. We have
no
justification whatsoever to seize it.”
“I’m not talking about annexation,” Morvan said. “I’m talking about making it safe from
Sagittarian
annexation. We could work something out with the Confed, I’m sure. Establish it as a protectorate, perhaps.”
Falco shifted in his seat. “So the Confed is just going to give up their independence for free?”
“If given the choice between annexation by Sagittarius or partial autonomy under Carina, which do you think they’ll choose?”
Tahn shook his head. “It’s a false dichotomy. The Heathen King has given no indication he’s interested in Earth.”
“Would you prefer to wait until the Sagittarian armada has blockaded the Sacred Planet to act?”
Falco inhaled a long, thoughtful breath and turned to Riahn. “What do you think of this? I’m assuming you had a part to play in forming this coalition.”
Riahn shrugged. “Well, yes. An intermediary role, yes. The people are divided on what our response should be, but I believe they will unite behind a resolution of just cause for war
on the condition
that an investigation confirms the Sagittarians perpetrated the attack. This would give the Minister of Arms the wartime powers necessary to deploy the Space Force outside of Carinian space
but would also
give the Minister of Justice enough time for an investigation.”