Tomorrow’s Heritage (34 page)

Pat staggered to the screen, looming over it, shouting at her impotently. “My God! Forged documents? You forged my name to those deeds and properties? You sold me out to those murdering bastards! Todd was right. My God. My God. I’ve been promising the world I’d free it from those chains. And behind my back you’re putting more chains on! Don’t you realize what you’ve done? You’re fomenting rebellion, plunging those countries back into the Chaos. You can’t buy lives this way. I believe in Earth First, in the party’s principles—”

“So do I!” Jael declared with fierce pride. She smiled lovingly at him, amused by his outrage. “That’s exactly why we needed these things, to give you power. That’s the answer to Earth’s misery, Patrick. You know it. You have to compromise along the way in order to get the power to do the just things in the future. Power. I’ve told you that a thousand times. It’s the only way to make sure they’ll never tear us down.”

“And if you have to turn off cryo cubicles in the Enclave, killing people, that’s a compromise, too, Mother?’ Todd was in the Antarctic again, cold, cold clear through to that part of his being the new mysticism termed the soul.

Jael’s round face tightened. “Do you know what the revival-rate potentials are for those silly cryo systems? Maybe you’ve forgotten. I haven’t. There were ten volunteers in Protectors of Earth’s experiment. One of them came out whole. Three others revived, then died within six months—healthy volunteers, not a thing wrong with them until they got in those cubicles. The others never revived at all. Anomalies. Diseases, the testers said. They had a live reviver and half the governments and Third Millennium fanatics in the world clamored for them to go ahead. They waved money at them, and the P.O.E. was eager to take it. There’s your wonderful cryogenic ‘hope for the future.’ But they paid well.”

“And the dictators and generals are still paying, aren’t they, Mother? Only now they’re paying directly to Saunder Enterprises, with a few bribes along the way to a corrupt Human Rights Committee.” Todd couldn’t bring himself to approach the screen, shuddering, staring at her image. “They pay, and you arrange for certain people to die. I put my hand through what should have been Elizabeth Gola. I could have done the same with . . . what? A thousand people? Two thousand? Three? God knows how many you’ve condenmed to death with a com call to the Enclave, a change in some tyrant’s ledgers over to Saunder Enterprises. How many? Okay. Probably only the capital punishment opponents would howl about the criminals dying. You’d likely do that for free and consider it good riddance. I remember how you think on the subject. But Gola? Van Eyck? Bustamonte? Goddard supporters, Earth First opponents, Pat’s business rivals—trumped-up trials, phony charges, ship ‘em to the Enclave and pull the plug. Neat. They’re never coming back. And you know damned well that a lot of them wouldn’t have gone there without a fight if they hadn’t believed they had a chance to come back to life someday. You and the dictators and P.O.E. tricked the dissidents and the rebels, and the people who loved them. We killed them. Saunder Enterprises killed them. And we covered it all up so that Pat can become Chairman of Protectors of Earth. My God, Pat. My God, indeed!”

Pat, his voice rising, that power to move worlds—or his own family? “You
did
kill them, Mother. The staffers have to get their orders from somewhere. What . . . what have you done?” Jael had convinced him, where Todd alone might have failed.

“I made sure the Saunders will survive.” No remorse. Her head was held high. Jael Hartman Saunder, throwing away a fortune and an elitist family, and replacing what she had lost with her love for Ward Saunder and her children—and her unquenchable thirst for enough power to make them all invulnerable. “We’re here. We’re on top. And we’re going to stay this way. We’ll
always
be here, from now on. A Saunder, hand on the reins, taking Earth where it ought to go,” Jael said. Serene, strong, the woman who had made kings and presidents grovel, and pay to have their enemies “eliminated” secretly.

“You tried to kill
me
, Mother. Twice,” Todd reminded her.

For a fraction of a second, lad’s cool demeanor trembled. “I’m sorry I had to do that, Todd. But you just wouldn’t listen. I
did
warn you. And I made sure you were out of the way. I thought that would teach you . . .”

“Scare me off? I don’t scare off, Mother. I’m a Saunder, too. A man died in that firebombing. A good man, decent, intelligent. Other people suffered terribly, are still suffering. All the burn treatments and get-well wishes you send won’t wipe that out. You hurt them, would have hurt me if you could have.”

“I regret their being caught. I truly do. But it’s your fault. You should have quashed this thing about the aliens, at least until Patrick—”

Pat hammered on the console. “Goddammit! There isn’t going to be any election for me now, Mother! Can’t you get that through your head? You killed all chance for me to reach the Chairmanship when you killed those people. It’s over. Done!” He jerked around, suddenly seizing on something Todd had said earlier. “The Nairobi shuttle? What . . . ?”

“Yes. Gib Owens, a Goddard courier, was on board, in disguise. They sabotaged the plane to get him. A ‘regrettable accident.’ He’d delivered a message from Mari and Kevin, about the Enclave and a lot of missing funds. I dug a bit, and that’s when those planes almost shot me out of the sky.” Todd looked at Jael. “I had a scrambler lock with me on that wild ride. I listened in on their com. That’s how I know they were part of your bunch of killers, part of the bunch that destroyed that plane.” Jael frowned, disgusted at the ineptitude of her hirelings. “Who were the dead pilots, the dupes? More pests somebody wanted removed? Did you let CNAU find them, or is CNAU Enforcement in your pocket, too? How far does this conspiracy run? Galbraith, obviously. He’s looked the other way for you on a lot of things, hasn’t he? And now you’re looking the other way while he kills your daughter . . .”

Jael tensed against that accusation. “If Mariette would just . . .”

“Mother, Galbraith’s going to destroy Goddard if he can, he and the rest of Earth First’s fanatics and what’s-in-it-for-me specialists. And Pat helped them, blinding Earth’s people, telling them Goddard was their enemy.”

“We’re not responsible for that stupid old man,” lad said harshly. “I told Galbraith it was quite unnecessary to fire those missiles. We could simply starve Goddard into seeing things our way.”

“Or poison them? Like that contaminated-food shipment to Lunar Base?” Pat made a strangling sound when Todd mentioned that unknown plot, racked by new horror.

Jael shrugged. “It’s done.”

“No, it’s not. It’s just beginning. You bought off P.O.E.’s earlier investigation into the missile attacks, and Riccardi and the anti-Spacers kept it up. Well, Riccardi’s dead. And Galbraith and his co-conspirators will make one final attempt. They’re in so deep they can’t get out any other way. They hope to be tyrants of what’s left after the holocaust. If Goddard goes, though, it’ll take us with it. You and Pat didn’t learn anything from Dad. You should have come up to orbit more often when we were rebuilding the satellites after the wars. Found out what missiles can do. Full potential. It’s years later, and the weapons are a great deal meaner. We’ll all pay—you, me, Pat, Carissa, the baby . . .”

Todd had struck a nerve, a deep one. Jael came up out of her chair. “No one is going to harm that baby! They won’t be able to reach her!”

Pat counterattacked. “No, they won’t. I’ll protect ‘Rissa and our child with my dying breath. But they’ll have me. That’s the least I can give to all the people we’ve wronged. I’ve . . . I’ve got to speak to the world, before it’s too late . . .””

Hope rose in Todd’s heart.

“It can be suppressed,” Jael said coldly.

“No, Mother.” Todd closed his eyes a moment before speaking. “It can’t be. I’ve given the evidence to a lot of people, too many for you to kill them all. And if Pat won’t tell the world, I will—with his voice. I can do it, with the translator-splitter and the thousands of kilometers of footage my people have accumulated on my magnificent orator brother over the last few years.”

Pat was eyeing Todd with admiration, not anger. Oddly, he didn’t seem to resist the prospect of throwing himself on the world’s mercy. A martyr. A sacrifice. Genuinely grief-stricken. And yet . . . Todd almost began to believe Pat would somehow emerge from this as noble and brave, turning hate and vengeful uproar into forgiveness and new glory.

“Of course,” Jael said. “No, nothing will happen. You would go into telecom, Todd! And that little bitch is recording this, naturally. All right. Give me to the wolves. The media hate me, anyway. It’ll work. Let me handle it.”

Pat cut her off. “You forged my name, did all this to bring
me
to power. I
am
in power. And it’s my responsibility. You’re not in charge of me, never again. Whatever you did, you did out of mistaken family loyalty, Mother. But I’m
not
going to throw my own mother to the sharks. You’re a genius at cutting throats, but the only side of human nature you know about is the ugly side.” Pat gulped for air, looking over his shoulder at his brother. “My God,” he repeated in a whisper, appalled, the horror of it still falling onto him. “She tried to kill
you?
And Mari? It was true. All of Mari’s accusations were true.”

“You’re the only one who really counts, you and that baby.” It hurt Todd to say that. Sibling rivalries and petty childhood jealousies. But it was the truth. And this time, the truth meant disgrace for the handsome, favored, older brother.

“I wanted to do all of this painlessly,” Jael said with sweet reasonableness. “I tried to. The people in the Enclave never suffered. They were in a coma before they arrived. If you’d just taken my warning, Todd . . .”

He cocked his head, answering her in the same adult, ultra-civilized tone. “Just out of curiosity, when did you figure out that I
wasn’t
in orbit and
was
at the Enclave? I halfway expected you to sabotage one of my planes a lot earlier than you did.”

There was an icy silence. Then Jael turned on him. “Your holo-message from orbit was very convincing. You and Ward were always good at those things. I did indeed think you were in space. By the time I realized you weren’t . . .“

“So. It was just a matter of timing. Or I would be dead, and so would all the other passengers on the Antarctic shuttle or the Sur Atlantique flight. Just another regrettable accident. You’ve become addicted to killing, and to power.”

Small lights were flashing in the corners of both monitor screens. Someone outside the scrambler lock was trying frantically to break through, paging for attention. Absently, still reeling emotionally, Pat opened a circuit. A third screen flared to life, one of his aides on the screen, talking fast. “P.O.E. Chairman Li Chu, sir—emergency session—missile attacks—something coming in from Goddard—”

“Put it on,” Pat said, all the strength gone from his marvelous voice.

Kevin McKelvey’s image formed. “. . . pro tem governor of Goddard Colony and Lunar City Copernicus . .

Todd stiffened, hearing the change in designation. “Governor of Goddard
and
Lunar City Copernicus.” Desertion. The entire Lunar Base. Total union with Goddard’s fortunes. All the last ties to Earth had been cut.

“You’ve done it, Pat,” Todd said bitterly. “Secession. They’re fully allied with the Moon.”

“Shut up. I’ve got to hear this.”

Jael said nothing. Neither did Dian. She and the entire ComLink system must be receiving the same message simultaneously.

“. . . Goddard Space Station Charter Authority is hereby voided. We will no longer acknowledge or honor any treaties or sanctions enacted under the previous Protectors of Earth franchise of 2036. By unanimous vote of the inhabitants of our combined governments . . .”

“Ten thousand raving fanatics,” Jael said derisively. No one paid her any attention.

“. . . severing diplomatic relations with the following Earth nations, quasi-nations, and political coalitions, effective immediately: Riccardi Incorporated Network . . .”

“Operating under new management,” Todd put in with grisly humor.

“. . . Central South American Union and President Galbraith’s Social Traditionalists Party, President Halmahera’s faction of Nippon-Malaysia, Premier Ybarra’s faction of the Maui-Andean Populist Democracies, Nakamura’s Worldwide TeleCom, Patrick Saunder’s division of Saunder Enterprises . . .”

Pat winced, taking the blow, acting like a man who felt he must pay and expiate his shame.

The list went on, ticking off those who hated Goddard, sabotaged its power sats, attacked it, convicted or killed its planetside allies. The Okhotsk Concord, some of the Rift Country dictators, the nasty little Asian ruler whose security chief Todd had seen on the tape Gib smuggled out of Goddard.

The missing names were just as significant. Those who had backed Goddard and bought its power output and extended credit. The Israeli branch of the Rift Federation was there; and Alamshah, one of SE’s competitors and one of Ward Saunder’s friendly rivals, but a Spacer just the same; Dian’s Midwestern United Ghetto States; ComLink . . .

Todd was one of their allies, yet being reminded, along with the rest of Earth, just what that might mean.

“. . . will no longer endure these assaults. We will retaliate. This is a step we do not wish to take, but we have armed ourselves. Recent events have left us no choice. Protectors of Earth has refused to act on our grievances. We must redress our wrongs ourselves . . .”

P.O.E.’s incumbent Chairman, Li Chu, the woman who had designated Patrick Saunder as her political heir—had Jael bought her off, too? Todd stared bleakly at Kevin McKelvey. The big man wasn’t alone. He was broadcasting from Goddard’s master com center, and the room was crowded with enthusiastic aides and members of the Planning Group. Mari was among them. She wore the pseudo uniform of Goddard’s civilian fighter forces, proud, her wonderful eyes glaring out at her enemies on Earth. Kevin’s huge hands were clenched into fists and resting heavily on the com panel before him. His face promised vengeance to anyone who didn’t heed what he was saying.

“Don’t do it, Kevin,” Todd begged uselessly.

“Earth has declared war on us, and we hereby acknowledge that that state exists between us. We will lay down our arms if Earth does to the same degree, and agrees to full and binding arbitration by a court of all humanity—a legal hearing to be conducted openly, on Earth and in space, in all languages, for all peoples, via ComLink. No other truce terms will be considered.”

Around Kevin McKelvey, whoops and shouts rose, yells of defiance. Mari threw her arms around him, momentarily destroying the fragile decorum of the terrible announcement. Her dark hair against his golden mane—just as they had looked in the candid holo-mode Todd had taken so long ago, in a happier time. Other habitat citizens leaned into the lenses, shaking their fists, grinning angrily, and vowing to give Earth as good as they got.

Todd knew billions of planetsiders were watching, most of Earth. What would they make of this? They had to take the threat seriously. Pat had to make them understand—as he hadn’t made them understand the true significance of the alien messenger. Mari. The Saunder princess, sister of the world-famous Patrick Saunder. Earth remembered her as a hell-raiser, a celebrity noted for wild adventures. Yet she had changed. Now she was a Goddardite, ready to fight and die for the Colony, calling Pat her enemy, embracing that traitor to his planet and his service, Kevin McKelvey.

Finally, Mari backed away and the other habitat citizens calmed down, their expressions stern. Kevin resumed his speech. “Earth leaders have declared Goddard and Lunar City cannot survive without Earth. We will survive—alone. The future of humanity lies in the stars, with the race of Vahnaj . . .”

They had picked up the signals, just as Dian had said they would. They knew. And for all Mari’s resentment at having been outraced, Goddard accepted the inevitable. A hand, from another intelligent species, reaching out, and they would take it.

“. . . we will not be Earth’s slaves!”

“They’re cutting their own throats, seceding,” Pat said, aghast.

Todd told him morosely, “No, they’ve had Earth First’s knife at their throats for nearly five years, ever since they started the torus. They’re just finally turning it around and using it on their attackers.”

“ . . . of Earth, your leaders have lied to you,” Kevin McKelvey said. The cameras zoomed in on him. It wasn’t ComLink’s good signal, but it was strong and bright, conveying McKelvey’s determination. He didn’t have Pat’s stage presence or voice, but he epitomized Goddard’s spirit. An equitable team. “We don’t want to be your enemy. We want to be your friend. And we can offer you the future. On this date, February 15, 2041, we establish the full and irrevocable independence of Goddard Colony and Lunar City.”