Dogmatic Decisions
Parliament, Myr
Gabriel Heid was growing tired of inept underlings. Every day, he spent more hours supervising others' duties than keeping an ear to each of the colonies. He had to remind himself that he needed patience for just a bit longer. He'd devoted his entire life to strengthening the Collective. He'd sacrificed everything and everyone he loved to see his vision become a reality. The war would be over soon, as he'd projected, and the Collective would be stronger than ever once his Forces established profitable control over the colonies and, thus, the Collective overall.
Heid had desired an upheaval. Statistically, civilizations prospered when a significant conflict took place once every generation. But Seda Faulk had escalated what should've been a series of straightforward riots for equal rights into a war for independence. The rogue had caused unnecessary deaths and expenses, and it would take years for the Collective to recover from the recession the torrents' antics had brought on. As a result, Heid had to adjust his plans and forcibly take control of all the fringe stations, stretching the CUF's resources more thinly than expected.
Citizens were drastically outnumbered by colonists, especially within the CUF. He'd been fortunate the operations had gone swiftly, but as long as Seda was alive, the torrents could still complicate Heid's plans. He didn't want to kill the Terran—Seda's death would inspire additional revolts that the CUF would then have to expend further resources to quell—but the time had come that Seda's death, and its aftermath, was a necessity to ensure success.
He opened the desk drawer to his left to reveal a small safe. After entering a ten-digit passcode, the door slid open to reveal a single tablet. He pulled out the tablet that was known to himself and very few others. After going through the security protocols, he tapped out a message that needed few words.
Ranger–
Approval granted to terminate Aeronaut.
For the free...
–Mason
Heid closed the tablet and returned it to his desk safe, pushed to his feet, and strode to his office door. All senators had offices on the second floor, though the offices of the co-chairs—Heid and Etzel—were the largest and most opulent, larger than most fringe homes.
Parliament looked more like a castle than a government building, courtesy of the Myrad architect who'd designed the structure. Alluvians generally took more to clean lines and open spaces. Heid prided himself on embracing both cultures in his environment. Classical silver pieces—but not too many—sat atop Alluvian bamboo tables.
He wiped a fingerprint from a one-of-a-kind casting of a fishing vessel. He'd liked the art piece so much that he'd paid the artist to destroy his cast, ensuring only Heid could savor that particular specimen.
He left his office within the Parliament building and hadn't walked more than five feet from his office before his assistant rushed forward.
"Senator, I need your signature."
Heid stopped. "Of course you do, Jasmine." He pressed his thumbprint over at least a dozen forms and letters before handing the tablet back. "I've often said that when it comes to politics, the size of the thumbprint is far more important than the volume of the voice."
"You are a wise man," she said before changing the subject. "They've finished the wall. It's stunning. Have you seen it?"
"I was heading there before you stopped me."
Jasmine shrank. "My apologies, Senator."
He squeezed her shoulder. "No need to apologize. You're doing your job, and you're doing a fine job at that."
"Thank you, Senator."
He continued on his stroll down the long hallway lined with portraits of previous senators and other leaders who'd played crucial roles in establishing and guiding the Collective. The heels of his shined shoes made sharp snaps with each strike to the floor, echoing through the empty hallway. The sounds were rhythmic, almost meditational, until he slowed, then stopped, at the top of the massive staircase that led down to the first floor, where the chamber for sessions stood.
Like the rest of the building, the chamber would be empty, with Parliament currently on a two-day break. Nearly all senators were at various social events, mingling with the public and getting votes for the next election. Heid no longer worried about such things. Delivering on his promises of a short war to bring order back to the Collective would ensure that he would remain co-chair of Parliament. However, he'd never been fond of the concept of co-chairing, and his next project was to enable the senators to understand that a single chair of Parliament would be far more beneficial to the Collective, especially if he were to be the one to prove it. Etzel was too old and no longer had the stomach to make hard decisions for the benefit of the Collective. While Etzel was easy enough to control, everything would be easier without having to deal with the bureaucratic red tape that came with sharing leadership.
Leading people was exhausting. He longed to return to his home on Alluvia, if only for a few days. He missed the sound of waves lapping against the shore. He'd built his Myrad house on the shore, but there were no waves on Myr. The stillness gave the world a sense of lifelessness, even though the planet teemed with life. He'd even gone so far as to have ambient sounds of waves play throughout his Myrad house, but they were shallow echoes of an ocean's breath.
He'd travel home as soon as he could bring closure to the conflicts bringing stress to the Collective. Until then, he would tirelessly continue his mission.
The doors leading outside had been designed like the rest of the building—overdone and ostentatious. They were transparent, with veins of silver that drew famous scenes from the Collective's history, drawing one, then morphing seconds later to draw the next. Heid had passed through these doors for over thirty years and had each scene memorized: first came the colonization of Alluvia, then Myr, then the fringe, then finally, the emergence of United Day. The doors were one of the few features he truly enjoyed about the building.
He stepped outside and down the steps, turning around when he had a full view. He smiled. He now had another feature to appreciate. On the wall to the left of the doors was a holographic video displaying the images of five Myrads, each with their name listed beneath their image: Edmun Strand – Michael Travers – Margine Travers – Nannette Noun – Josef Romenko. Above the video, five stars were emblazoned in silver. Below, the text read:
In the 764th year of the Collective, five unarmed citizens were brutally murdered by radical colonists while administering to children in poverty on a humanitarian mission via the Citizens Against Hunger Program. Their deaths, known as the Rebus Station Tragedy, led to the Resilience War to bring peace across the Collective's six worlds.
Heid gave a nod to the artist's excellent work. This memorial would help shape history. Within a generation, citizens would think of that memorial when they thought of how the Resilience War began. There would be no records of citizens protesting the treatment of the colonies. Instead, the records would be slanted toward the colonies trying to overpower the citizen worlds. Videos of the fringe riots. The true value of history wasn't in its accuracy, but rather in how it could shape minds toward the right future.
Humans, by their very nature, were tribal and competitive beasts. They needed a common enemy to hate in order to work together and thrive. The Earth system had attempted to build a world based on equality, but every experiment in democracy had failed after two hundred years. Heid had studied and knew that for the Collective to succeed for millennia, the colonists would need to hate the citizens and vice versa. That was the only way.
"Senator Heid, I must speak with you," a woman called out from behind him.
He sighed, turned, and put on his politician's smile. "Ah, Senator Liu. It's always a pleasure to see you." He cocked his head. "I thought you'd be at Legacy Starporation's Grand Opening at Smithton today."
She approached, carrying a large green plant. "I was, until I heard Corps General Laciam is taking the Unity to the fringe worlds tomorrow."
"He is."
She moved the plant to rest on her hip, but it did little to help her look serious. "Myr and Alluvia need protection. We need to keep at least two warships here."
He held up his hand in a show of placation. "How about we go to my office to discuss this?"
"I would like that," she said. "Oh, but let's go to my office. I picked this plant up at the Smithton Market this morning and need to water it. It's a Dieffenbachia Exotica. Isn't it lovely?"
"It is," Heid mused. Then, he held out his hands. "Here, let me carry that for you, Luna."
She smiled warmly. "Thank you, Gabriel."
Their conversation became easy, and they headed inside.