"Mr. President. It's an honour, sir."
The tall human seated himself, facing the Federation President across his desk in the Palais de la Concorde. Lyle Anson had a smooth, self-assured look; his head was bullet-shaped, with a wide square jaw and a high, domed, bald cranium; his broad mouth was accented above by a carefully-trimmed pencil-line moustache. He smiled at Aennik Okeg, a practised politician's smile.
The dapper Saurian smiled back, a slight movement of his near-lipless mouth. "Your political movement seems to be growing in leaps and bounds," he said. "Approval ratings up five points in the latest surveys. I envy you, Mr. Anson."
"Thank you, sir. Though we both know, don't we, that there's only one kind of poll which actually counts!"
"True. Still, you represent a growing body of opinion." Okeg's voice was smooth and calm. "And you have concerns. I'd be failing in my duty, I think, if I didn't at least listen to those concerns."
"Mr. President," said Anson, "nobody could possibly accuse you of failing in your duty. Your leadership, sir, in crisis after crisis, has been... exemplary. I can't think of anyone who could have done better. Your spirit, sir, your courage, your principles... they stand as an example to us all."
"Now, that is surely flattery," said Okeg.
"Not at all, sir. You've done everything possible to safeguard the Federation." Anson leaned a little forward in his chair. "Which is where the Actionist movement comes in, of course."
"How so, Mr. Anson?"
"You've done everything possible, sir, within the existing framework of the Federation. Our goal, sir, is to extend those possibilities."
Okeg's lambent eyes widened by a millimetre or so. "That seems rather a tall order. How would you go about it?"
"Mr. President." Anson took a deep breath. "You've presided over the war with the Klingons - and over the end of that war. It was a mistake, sir, one that we and the Empire made, one that could and should have been prevented. If we had worked together, sir, from the outset."
"A choice that was not entirely in our hands," Okeg murmured.
"But we have the choice now, sir. As do the Romulans - the Republic was founded by a Unificationist, sir, that opportunity has got to be taken. We won out against the Iconians' manipulation, in the end, by standing united, sir. We in the Actionist Party - and our counterparts in the Empire, the Republic, and elsewhere - believe the time has come to bring us all closer together. To make the loose alliance into something solid."
Okeg nodded, slowly. "It's a grand ambition, Mr. Anson. A laudable one, in many ways. But there are obstacles in the way." His eyes seemed to lose focus for a moment, as he drifted off in thought. "So many obstacles...."
"We know it will be difficult, sir. What we're proposing is, in effect, the creation of a new political entity. It will need a lot of effort, and a lot of changes in existing systems, to bring it about. We'd need radical reform of the Empire, and the Republic -" Anson paused, and shot a hard look at the President. "And, sir, the Federation."
"Ah," said Okeg. "Well. It is only to be expected, I suppose. What form would you expect these... changes... to take?"
Anson took another deep breath. "Sir, we're called the Actionists because we believe in action, and to take action, we need to be free to act. The Prime Directive, sir, is a well-intentioned relic of more idealistic times. We've seen it time and again - the Undine infiltrate, the Iconians manipulate, they shape planetary cultures to their own ends, and we do nothing, because the Prime Directive demands we cannot intervene."
Okeg said nothing.
"Even in small things, sir, it gets in the way. The situation at Vel Tarsus, now - we're trying to help those people, sir, but we have to pick our way through the contesting claims of the competing governments, we have to stand back and keep our distance - we're respecting their cultural integrity, sir, but we're letting them die while we do it. That ought to change, sir. That has to change."
"Yes,"said Okeg. His voice was soft, distant. "Yes, I understand how you must feel."
"And there are other things. One hears, well, rumours - I know not to put too much stock in rumours, sir, but sometimes one just has to wonder. Stories about assassinations, about rogue operatives in Starfleet Intelligence - sir, with respect, our intelligence services need a shake-up from time to time, just to stop them from becoming a law unto themselves. I know not to give credit to those tales about Section 31, but still -"
"I ought to reassure you," said Okeg, "that our oversight of the intelligence services remains complete - they don't get the chance to act unethically, even if they would want to. Of course, I don't know how concrete I can make my reassurances -"
"Your word, sir, is good enough for me. Even so, there are so many missed opportunities - ourselves, Imperial Intelligence, the Republic, all working at cross purposes...." Anson shook his head.
"It's another area where there would be friction, in a unified government," said Okeg. "Our ethical standards and Imperial Intelligence's are... not the same."
"We could work something out, sir. Sooner or later, we'll have to. The movement I represent, sir, thinks it should be sooner, rather than later."
"Well," said Okeg, "if the polls continue to swing in your favour, you may soon have the chance to try." He looked soberly at the other man. "I don't think you will find much support, though, for abandoning the Prime Directive. Too many mistakes were made, in the past."
"We can learn from mistakes, sir. And I hope we will."
"It's easy to see, with hindsight, where we went wrong," Okeg said, almost to himself. "Easy to spot where we might have intervened and made things better, or where we should have refrained. But hindsight is one thing. To pick the right choice, in the middle of a crisis, requires... great clarity of vision. More than I can lay claim to, at any rate."
"Sir, with the other great cultures of the galaxy on our side, I'm sure we can find that clarity."
"Perhaps," said Okeg, "perhaps." Then his tone became lighter, brisker. "Well. Thank you, at least, for your forthrightness, Mr. Anson. It's been a most illuminating meeting. I wish we could talk longer, but, alas -"
"Of course, Mr. President." Anson rose to his feet. "I know there are many demands on your time. It's been an honour and a privilege, sir."
They shook hands. Anson's handshake was brisk and firm. If Okeg's cool, scaly fingers caused him any discomfort, he did not show it.
At the door, as he left, he turned one last time, smiled, and said, "Don't worry, Mr. President. It's not our intention to add to your burdens."
And he was gone. The door hissed shut. Okeg waited a few seconds before he muttered to himself, "That's exactly what I'm worried about."
---
Thomas Harriman started to rise to his feet as Okeg entered the conference room. The President waved him down, and Harriman let his hundred and thirty kilogramme bulk subside back into his chair.
Okeg took a seat. "I gather you've reviewed the record of my... meeting," he said. "I'd like to hear your conclusions."
Besides Okeg and Harriman, there were two others in the room; a blankly impassive Vulcan in Starfleet uniform, and a dumpy female Tellarite in civilian clothes. Harriman waved a fat hand at the Tellarite. "I'll let Professor Sturla do the talking," he said. "She's the expert."
"I don't believe we've met," Okeg said.
"Sturla glasch Drem," the Tellarite said shortly. "Professor of Semiotic Warfare at Cygni University, and the fat man's right, if you want to understand arguments, go to a Tellarite." She snorted. "It's what we're good at. Apparently."
"Well, thank you for coming," said Okeg. "So, what's your professional assessment of Lyle Anson?"
"Professionally, and academically," Sturla said, "he's what we'd technically call a huge phony."
Okeg laughed. "He's a politician. Aren't we all -?"
"If you want to waste your time with sophomore cynicism," said Sturla, "fine, but don't waste mine. I mean his responses, his body language, his vocabulary choices - his entire semiotic output - is fake. Trained. Manufactured. I looked up his biography. Born Waldemar Laukaitis, changed name, also personal grooming - nothing so overt as plastic surgery - modified all his phonological and syntactic markers, his personal idiolect, conforming to a standard that's designed to appeal to a broad subset of core Earth-humans. Politically active Earth-humans. And he's got a whole set of markers that identify him as typically human to a range of non-humans -"
"Such as what?" Harriman asked.
"You want the full details, they're on a PADD. But he comes across as stereotypically human. You know. Bouncy, optimistic, casually arrogant, pushy." She glared at Harriman. "Hey, you asked."
"Not very positive characteristics," Okeg observed.
"But very stereotypical characteristics. Comfortable, even. You know where you are with a human like that." She glowered at Okeg. "He is way too good to be true. He has got to be a front. Trained, maybe even hypnotically conditioned."
Okeg sighed. "I don't doubt your analysis -"
"You damn well shouldn't!"
"But it's too inchoate to use," Okeg continued. "Unless we can discover who he's a front for, all we have is... a politician who's taken elocution lessons, and has good advisers and a good speech-writer. You could say the same about me."
"If you'd ever stick to a script," muttered Harriman. "Sir."
"So," said Okeg, "who is he fronting for? He's the main spokesperson for the Actionists in the Federation - he seems to be first among equals among the Actionists as a whole, if I understand things correctly?"
"Pretty much," said Harriman. "The Action Party is a legitimately registered political organization within the Federation, and as such it's got advantages over its Imperial and Republic counterparts. Action Red - the Klingon part - is currently a loose group of High Councillors centred on a Dahar Master T'Lor; he's respected, but he's in no position to mount a serious challenge to J'mpok. The Republic's representation system is still largely provisional, and in practice power defaults to D'Tan and his deputies... Action Green is headed up by Sarellius i-Maro tr'Bochdal, who calls himself - well, the Rihannsu title translates to 'Tribune'."
"Which is kind of interesting," Sturla added. "The Tribune was a representative of the populace, to speak up on behalf of the common folks to the people in power... and they were sacrosanct. Ceremonially inviolate. It was a crime to lay hands on one. If Sarellius is choosing this title... it implies he's trying to speak truth to power, and that he needs formal protection to do it. It's a subtle criticism of D'Tan's leadership."
"Action Gold is a legal entity in Ferengi Alliance space, owned by a consortium headed by a DaiMon Steg," Harriman went on. "Its market capitalization is pretty limited, so far, so it doesn't have any official standing with the FCA. Action Amber is a registered political organization in the Cardassian Union, but doesn't have representation on the Detapa Council. At least, not yet. The spokesman is an Anem Marcass, and I don't have much information about him, though he might have connections with the True Way. Action White appears to be just one modified Sarr Theln, running political broadcasts, under the command of a Thot Frek. I don't know if the Confederacy considers them a viable political force, or just a - a pirate radio station. We don't know nearly enough about the workings of the Breen political system."
"Is that it?" Sturla demanded. "No Action Shiny for the Tholians? Or Action Naugahyde for the Tzenkethi?"
"I imagine it's a practicality thing," said Harriman. "The Tholians are difficult to deal with for all sorts of reasons, and the Tzenkethi are mad dogs. Hard to organize."
"So," Okeg said, "we seem to have the largest and most advanced set of Actionists, here in the Federation. Lucky us. Well, we have some idea what they want... now, how do they propose to get it? Tom, what can you tell me about the Vel Tarsus situation?"
Harriman spread his hands wide. "What can I say? It's a God-awful foul-up, but we're doing all we can. We can't make people accept help at gunpoint, after all. You could make a case for all sorts of Prime Directive violations going on... the legal status of the provisional government is pretty dubious, and our people have had to act in self-defence many times.... Most of the relief work is being done by NGOs and other autonomous entities, not by Starfleet, but there's only so far the legalisms will stretch, there. If someone wanted to prosecute a relief agency for a Prime Directive violation, well, they could make a case, but why would they?"
"To make the Prime Directive look officious, stupid and heartless," Sturla said promptly.
Okeg nodded. "We need to keep an eye on that situation," he said. "I do, of course, have some authority to issue Presidential pardons... but that, in itself, is a political act, open to interpretation." His lambent eyes turned towards the Vulcan. "In any case... tell us about the rumours, Admiral Zorik."
Zorik's voice was as deadpan as his face. "Assuming Mr. Anson to be correctly informed - which assumption I rate at a plus-ninety percent confidence level - it seems most likely he is referring to the presumed peculation and defection of Admiral Pexlini. The status of that issue is, as yet, unresolved."
"Presumed?" said Okeg.
"My assessment is that there is a ninety-seven point three percent probability that Admiral Pexlini is innocent and has been placed in an invidious position by a hostile agent," Zorik said. "This being the case, I have decided to allow her a level of freedom of action."
"Why not simply ignore it, whatever it is?" Sturla demanded.
"In the case of an operative with Admiral Pexlini's level of access and resources, a two point seven percent possibility of corruption is still too high. She would be in a position to disrupt our operations in the Delta Quadrant to a significant extent. However. Her actions since absconding from Earth Spacedock have been interesting. She has sought sanctuary and assistance at the Vault, with a Reman officer with whom she collaborated in the incident of the Rehanissen Archive. My belief, then, is that she believes the hostile agent to be the human augment who orchestrated that incident."
"Kalevar Thrang," said Okeg.
"If this assessment is correct," said Zorik, "then it suggests that Thrang is deliberately implicating Admiral Pexlini as part of some process of misdirection. I am, therefore, devoting only minimal resources to tracking and monitoring Admiral Pexlini. We know where she is; if necessary, we can lay hands on her. Otherwise, I propose to allow her to continue her own investigations. She is highly motivated, resourceful, and disruptive. If she is innocent, she will set out to prove this, and will generate much valuable data in the process. Of course, none of us can reveal anything of this matter to the general public - even to so influential a member of the public as Mr. Anson."
"So, there is a plot at work in Starfleet Intelligence, and I can't give Anson any answers about it." Okeg sighed. "Well. What about the other matter? The assassinations?"
"That," said Zorik, "is cause for concern. To date, six dignitaries in six major galactic powers have received these countdown transmissions - and, when the countdown ran out, so did their lives. We are attempting to discover who else may be receiving anonymous transmissions of this kind. It is a delicate task, since we must avoid causing general alarm. Even so, some rumours - as Mr. Anson has demonstrated - are spreading. The deaths of prominent individuals - accompanied, in some cases, by extravagant collateral damage - cannot be entirely concealed."
"Do we have any idea who's doing it?" Okeg asked.
"Not at this time. The countdown signals are anonymized to a very high standard. Admiral Shohl of the Experimental Engineering division was present at one incident and managed to limit the collateral damage. She and her data-warfare team are studying the forensic material. It is to be hoped that she will generate some leads."
"It certainly is," said Okeg. "So... these are the things Anson and his Actionists are holding against us. Possible corruption in Intelligence, and an assassination project that we can't handle. Yes, these would be good ways to make this administration look weak and incompetent." There was sudden steel in his mild voice. "Mr. Anson seems very well informed, besides being well trained. I think we need to know a great deal more about Mr. Anson."
No comments:
Post a Comment