The Ashes of Worlds - Kevin J. Anderson [11]
Making certain the Archfather had learned his lesson, Basil watched the show from the Whisper Palace observation gallery, accompanied by a concerned-looking Sarein and an unusually contemplative Deputy Eldred Cain.
“The Archfather is doing well today,” Sarein pointed out. “You talked to him, didn’t you?”
“I had to fan the flames of his enthusiasm a bit. This time he seems to have gotten the point.”
From the square below, the bearded man bellowed his words. “Yes, the Klikiss are demons, but demons cannot help what they are. They may be evil, they may be destructive, but it is in their very nature. Far worse are those who choose evil — people who ally themselves with the Klikiss, with the demons, with our enemies. By this, I mean our treacherous King Peter and his rebellious Confederation.”
The sermon was, naturally, being transmitted across Earth. Cargo ships and fast traders would deliver recordings of the Archfather’s message to the handful of colonies and industrial worlds that still paid lip service to the Hansa.
In his seat, Deputy Cain looked decidedly uncomfortable, and Basil could tell he wanted to say something. He sighed, waiting. “What is it, Mr. Cain?”
The deputy answered promptly. “Complaints have been forwarded to me by several law-enforcement stations, sir. The police don’t know what to do about them.”
Basil’s eyebrows drew together. “Complaints? There are always complaints.”
“These seem to have some merit. It appears that a well-organized vigilante group has taken it upon itself to quell certain public discussions.” Cain pulled out a report. “For example, here are two incidents in which the group smashed businesses and roughed people up. They target anyone who speaks out against the Hansa. They don’t even try to hide themselves.” He presented surveillance images and pointed to a young woman wearing a dark uniform. “This costume appears to be based on early EDF uniform designs. I have identified one of the ringleaders responsible for these strong-arm tactics, a woman named Shelia Andez, an EDF officer.”
“Yes, I know. I reassigned her myself,” Basil said. “She spearheads an elite force to help maintain order and loyalty on Earth. I call these soldiers my cleanup crew, though I suppose they deserve a more formal name.”
“You’re actually aware of this? Their activities go against any number of laws.”
“Andez is doing the work I’ve assigned her. What you call strong-arm tactics, I view as a last-ditch effort to maintain much-needed order. The Hansa is in an extremely fragile state right now.”
The people in the square below suddenly cheered, and the Chairman turned to watch, brushing aside Cain’s concerns. The Archfather bowed. Basil tried to recall what particular line might have evoked such a reaction; he decided to review the tapes later. That way he could also critique the man’s performance.
The Archfather lowered his voice as if he were telling a secret to billions of listeners, delivering the preposterous suggestion with complete gravity — the very part of the speech to which the man had objected so strenuously before Basil had vetoed his concerns. “King Peter and his fellow traitors in the Confederation may actively be playing into the plans of the Klikiss. Roamer clans may be assisting the demon creatures in their conquests. In an insidious plot to destroy our beloved Hansa, the Confederation rebels and the Klikiss have agreed to split what’s left of the Spiral Arm between themselves.”
The audience gasped, predictably and on cue.
“That’s ridiculous, Basil,” Sarein muttered. “Please be cautious. When accusations get so extreme, you can’t really expect people to believe them.”
Basil gave her a hard sidelong look. “I disagree. It is a perfectly reasonable conclusion, considering what else the people have been told. We can’t afford to lose popular support right now. Our attempted