"Oh. So it is." Twelve-seventeen a.m., according to my handheld, the morning of July 3, 2076.

- 16 -.

Ichabod Martin waited with Dougla.s.s Ripper, in Ripper's office, for Secretary General Eddore to return Ripper's call.

They did not speak to one another while they waited.

There was no background holograph today; they waited in the midst of a huge, dark gray empty s.p.a.ce.

Toward late morning, July 3, 2076, the holofield flickered into existence in front of Ripper's desk.

Eddore spoke as his image took shape. "Councilor Ripper."

"Sir."

Eddore said, "I'm in a bit of a hurry, Councilor; what can I do for you?"

"This Executive Action your people submitted to the Council; it's going to cause ah uproar, sir, and it's not necessary."

Eddore said mildly, "To which Executive Action are you referring? I've issued three in the last weeks."

"Youknow which one," Ripper snapped. "Yesterday's, the one declaring martial law, suspending elections for the duration, and reducing the two-thirds majority required to modify the Statement of Principles to a simple plurality. None of these steps are necessary to deal with the crisis in j.a.pan, a mess that wouldn't exist in thefirst place if you and the PKF hadn't encouraged them by d.o.g.g.i.ng it in dealing with the Johnny Rebs."

"I disagree with you, Dougla.s.s. Is that all?"

"In the history of the Unification, only three Executive Actions have ever been overturned in Council session. This is going to be the fourth, sir. I'm offering you the opportunity to withdraw this from Council consideration before I humiliate you over it."

Eddore sighed. "Martial law is temporary, Dougla.s.s. You know that. Once we've put down this insurrection, we'll go ahead with the elections. You must realize I have no interest in turning the position of Secretary General into a dictatorship."

"Youcan't do this. I have the votes to veto this Action, and if you-"

Charles Eddore cut Dougla.s.s Ripper off in a voice that was soft and even. "School's in, sucker. Stop me. Give it your best shot." His smile grew slightly and he leaned forward. "You rank f.u.c.king amateur ex-United StatesSenator. Ican't?"

Ripper said slowly, controlling the fury that threatened to creep into his voice, "You're making a terrible mistake, not just with me, but with Occupied America at large."

Eddore shrugged dismissively. "We'll see."

"d.a.m.nit, Eddore, they'll riot over this, and you know it. It'll mean blood in the streets."

Charles Eddore moved his lips in an easy, generous smile. "Well, it won't be the first time, will it?" He nodded in dismissal. "Good day, Dougla.s.s."

His image vanished.

Shortly after lunch Ripper sat at his table in the Council Chamber, three floors below ground, protected from the rebel laser cannon by three different twenty-meter-thick layers of ferrocrete. He sat alone at the table reserved for New York Metro, watching the debate progress. Considering that there were almost six hundred Unification Councilors-approximately one to every twelve and a half million humans on the planet-it was going acceptably quickly. First-term Councilors had been informed that they would not be allowed to speak, merely to vote; others had been asked, cajoled, and begged, to move forward with all speed. Those whoinsisted on speaking were given only five minutes.

Progress was acceptable. Ripper sat with his handheld plugged into the table, monitoring-like most of the other Unification Councilors-battle coverage from bothNewsBoard and theElectronic Times. The third holo floating over his desk was fromNewsBoard's coverage of the Unification Council proceedings.

About fifty-eight percent of those present-and all but the twelve j.a.panese Unification Councilors, and one who was in the hospital with a stroke,were present; a modern record-were, by Ripper's head count, inclined to vote against the most recent Executive Action. Against were all of the American, Canadian, and English Councilors; most of the Australian delegation, India, the bulk of Pan-Africa, most of Northern Africa, most of the Russian and RussoAsian republics. In favor were most of the South American countries-the Unification had been good to South America-China, and much of Europe.

France, of course. Israel, Spain, Greece, most of the Baltic countries, New Zealand.

China, France, and Brazil, as founding members, had extra votes. They trimmed Ripper's real 58 percent-42 percent edge closer than Ripper liked, to about 53 percent-47 percent.

In question were the Arab and Muslim countries; the Asian countries, most of which did not like the Unification, but disliked j.a.pan worse; a scattering of the Scandinavian countries. And the Lunar Councilors, of course; but Unification Luna held only thirty-three million people, and they had only three representatives. Though they occasionally showed surprising streaks of independence, on this issue tuey would probably vote Eddore's way. Ripper did not let himself worry about it, as he had ten to twelve votes more than he needed.

Some pretty decent speech making transpired during the course of the long afternoon. The senior French Councilor, leading the session off, made an impa.s.sioned speech in defense of the Unification, imploring any undecided Councilors to vote in favor of Eddore's Executive Action. By tradition, voting went in order of membership. The founding Unification countries voted first, followed by those who had joined quickly, followed by those who had been coerced, followed by those who had fought: the republics that had arisen out of the old Soviet empire, and then j.a.pan, and then-last, because it was the last country to surrender to the Unification-Occupied America.

The historical accident that had led to Capitol City being placed in Manhattan, surrounding the ancient United Nations buildings, often bemused Ripper. Sarah Almundsen had probably thought it would be a gesture of healing toward the conquered American republic; even now, fifty years later, it was simply a reminder that they hadbeen conquered.

Ripper would have put Capitol City in orbit, himself. Given a choice.

At the speed things were going, Ripper expected to reach the podium sometime around nine or ten the following morning.

Occasionally other Councilors came by and spoke with Ripper, asking or offering favors; one, a relatively young first-term Councilor from Chile, was actually considering breaking away from her bloc and voting with Ripper on what she claimed were moral grounds. Ripper had spoken with her at length in the privacy of her office, just the night prior. He tended to think she was sincere, and found it both sad and rather grimly amusing. If she made the mistake and voted with him, this would be her last term in the Council; her own people would vote her out of office pretty quick.

Though he had attempted to persuade her to vote with him-that washis job-a part of him hoped she would vote against. Councilors capable of entertaining ethical considerations in their voting-even if they chose to ignore the considerations-were a rarity. It would be pleasant to have another one in the Council.

Toward dinner Ichabod came in through the main entrance, carrying a boxed dinner with him, and made his slow way down through the descending rows of tables, to the next-to-innermost circle facing the podium, where Ripper's table sat.

Ripper popped the stasis bubble and examined what he'd been brought. Not bad; largish shrimp on brown rice, pasta salad, orange juice. He ate while listening to Ichabod.

"There is, so far, no evidence that the Rebs are involved at all. It looks to be pretty much just the j.a.panese."

Ripper grunted. "Don't count on it. It's not the Fourth yet. Let's see if we get through tomorrow."

"s.p.a.cecraft used in the attacks on the laser cannon were primarily Collective, troops primarily j.a.panese; maybe a few private craft, maybe a few Rebs and Claw, but no confirmation on either point. Collective PR issued a statement denying involvement, said that the craft involved were renegades."

"Of course."

"It might be true, Councilor. Your average s.p.a.ceFarer will do anything for a Credit."

Ripper nodded, chewing. "Probably is true. It's not a good call for the Collective to get involved in this.

But it won't change the damage it does them with the Unification."

"Fighting is ongoing; want a list of what they've used the laser cannon on?"

"No. Still military targets?"

"So far. Mostly ports; Unification s.p.a.ceport is abad place to be right now. They've shot down about thirty s.p.a.ce Force craft as they took off, another dozen incoming. No cities yet, though the j.a.panese are saying Paris first, and then Capitol City. s.p.a.ce Force is targeting Hiroshima."

Ripper drank his orange juice in one long pull. "How wonderfully symbolic. Let's hope neither side decides to start shooting at civilians until after the voting is over. That'd screw us good."

"Fighting is cannon to cannon, and we're taking them back, but it's slowed down a lot. We've stopped using Elite in the attacks."

Ripper looked up. "Really?"

"The pumped lasers they're usingwork," said Ichabod quietly. "Nine Elite dead so far. The PKF have pulled out their Elite, Commissioner Vance's call apparently. s.p.a.ce Force is on its own as of about an hour ago. And another thing-"

"Yes?"

"They recovered one of the bodies, at one of the cannon they took back. A j.a.panese cyborg."

Ripper scowled. "d.a.m.n. That's very bad. They think we're winning right now-"

"We are."

"-but if they think we're evenstruggling upstairs we're going to have a lot of undecided voting go over to Eddore."

"I'm surprised the voting's so close," Ichabod commented. "This issuch a blatant power grab on Eddore's part."

"Most of the world doesn't have democratic traditions to speak of, Ichabod. Certainly not three hundred years' worth. To them this simply looks like good business; it makes Eddore look strong. How generally is this business upstairs known?"

"So far, not very. I only got it because of your position on the Oversite Committee; apparently Vance has decided you're an ally."

Ripper chuckled sourly. "Today."

"Last item, I don't know how much faith to place in this; apparently the PKF are planning an a.s.sault directly on j.a.pan as soon as the laser cannon are taken out. Or maybe before, if Commissioner Vance gets his way; clearly Mirabeau is all that's holding him back right now."

Ripper pushed his dinner aside, sat back in his chair, and watched the Unification Amba.s.sador from Sri Lanka speak in favor of a truce that no one, on either side, was going to offer, Even with all of Ripper's pleading to move things along, voting went slowly. About 10:00 em. Ripper left; his bodyguards, John and Bruce, picked him up at the exit, and followed a few steps behind him as he went down a level to the small Chamber office set aside for his use. He rolled out the cot to take a nap, and was asleep in seconds. He awoke around 2:30 a.m., shaved and showered in the office's small bathroom, and dressed in the suit that had been laid out for him. He knocked back two cups of coffee, waited, and when it did not rouse him sufficiently went into his bathroom and took two ephedrine tablets, and then headed back upstairs.

It had gone dramatically slower during his absence; people had been giving speeches for the holocams.

Only a little better than half of the Unification Councilors had voted. So far voting was running 168-151, in favor of declaring martial law. Ripper was not perturbed; it was the nature of the beast that most of the strongly pro-Unification Councilors voted first. To be behind by only seventeen votes after 319 Councilors had voted was two or three votes better than he had expected.

The Council tables were a quarter empty; many of those who had voted had left, returned to their offices, or gone off to nap. Still, for just after 3:00 a.m., it was easily as busy as on any normal day. Even now the air of frantic urgency had subsided only slightly; Councilors stood cl.u.s.tered in groups, murmuring voices establishing a gentle background susurration against which all else took place.

Ripper stopped, spoke briefly with several of his allies, and returned to his table. His holos, turned off while he was gone, automatically relit at his approach, and hovered in the air off to his right and his left.

NewsBoardlooked interesting, a map of near-Earth s.p.a.ce. He turned on his earphone, listened to the excited babble of voice, was aware of the slight reduction of background noise, throughout the Chamber, as others did the same.

"...there are sixteen Relay Stations, most of them small units called talk-to-me's; apparently only the large InfoNet Relay Station at Halfway, protected by a group of s.p.a.ce Force commandos, is still secure. Most of the balance of the -"

The map of near-Earth s.p.a.ce shown onNewsBoard suddenly vanished, as did the voice of the announcer. It was replaced by the image of a clean-shaven, fit-looking middle-aged man wearing what Ripper vaguely tagged as "military" clothing. The man did not look into the holocams for several seconds; he was apparently still setting up, turning on a handheld that was just visible in the holofield. A patch of blurriness in the holofield-b.l.o.o.d.y amateur,Ripper thought-showed where the handheld's field established itself.

As the man looked up into the holocams, his image abruptly appeared in theElectronic Times holofield next to it; and a moment after that, in the feed from the Council Chamber itself.

Ripper barely had time to notice the man's stiff features, characteristic of a PKF Elite of some twenty years ago, before the skin treatments had been improved to allow PKF more facial expressiveness. The thought flickered through his mind briefly, in a bright confused flash-PKF Elite, did we take back the Relay Stationsalready?-and then the man spoke. "I am the representative of the united Erisian Claw and Johnny Rebs. Today we have taken a step-" The Elite's voice was drowned out in Ripper's earphone, underneath a growing wave of noise from the a.s.sembled Councilors. The man spoke several sentences that Ripper could not hear at all; Ripper yelled at the top of his lungs,"Shut up!"

The babble died slowly; Ripper pumped up the volume on his earphone to its highest volume and the voice of the man in the holofield grew audible again: "-complete control of the Halfway InfoNet Relay Station, and all supporting Relay Stations. A fierce battle is being fought, even as we speak, for the laser cannon platforms. We have reinforced our j.a.panese allies, and before the day is out we expect to have the cannon entirely in our hands." The man paused. "We have chosen this day and this time to bring you this message. My name is Christian J.

Summers, and I was once a Peaceforcer Elite. Today I am a member of the Johnny Rebs, an a.s.sociate of the Erisian Claw; and today, in a meeting of the banned United States Congress, the following resolution was approved for release."

Ripper knew what was coming; surely most of those in the Council Chambers had to. Nonetheless the knowledge did not prevent the sudden fierce chill that ran down his spine, the p.r.i.c.kling of the hairs at the back of his neck.

It was 3:10 a.m., just after midnight on the West Coast; for them, the first moments of the TriCentennial.

Christian J. Summers spoke in measured cadence, solemnly, words carrying to all of Earth, broadcast beyond Earth to the rest of the Solar System: "In Congress, July 4th, 2076. The unanimous Declaration of these unlawfully occupied United States of America: "When in the Course of human Events, it becomes necessary for one People to dissolve the Political Bands that have connected them..."

This time the roar of sound grew until Ripper, standing motionless and watching Christian Summers speak, could not hear a word though the volume control on his earphone was pumped all the way up.

Ripper found himself coming to his feet, stood motionless, and watched Summers speak. In his heart was an utter emptiness, a complete absence of feeling. He had once been a United States Senator, and he would until his death be an American at the very core of his person.

But in the bravery shown by Christian Summers, in the slow reading of what newsdancers would, in half an hour, be calling the Second Declaration of Independence, Dougla.s.s Ripper saw nothing but disaster.

After a while he turned and made his slow, solitary way from the Chamber. No one tried to stop him, no one spoke to him as he left; virtually no one even noticed him leaving.

He knew the words by heart; though he could no longer hear Summers' voice, could no longer even hear the noise of the Chamber, the somber phrases rolled on through his awareness.

That to secure these Rights, Governments are inst.i.tuted among Men, deriving their just Powers from the Consent of the Governed...

Ripper did not realize that tears were running down his cheeks. He knew only that he could not remember having felt such vast pain since his mother's death, nearly twenty years prior.

That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these Ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it...

Dougla.s.s Ripper sat down abruptly, sat at the base of the stairs leading up to the Chamber, and in front of thirty Peaceforcers and half a hundred newsdancer spyeyes, buried his face in his hands and through his tears whispered to himself, "Oh, G.o.d. You stupid f.u.c.ks."

- 17 -.

"We areout of here."

"Whaa?"

It was Trent, fresh clown makeup applied, a sad face this time, rousing me from where I slept at my desk. He was grinning at me. "Wake up, Neil. Time to go."

The briefcase with the gold was next to my desk. I said groggily, "What's happening?"

"Rebs just declared independence. Twenty minutes ago. And we got attacked by a group of Rebs who clearly had no idea that s.p.a.ce Force was protecting the Halfway Relay Station-"

"Wait-"

"We made noises like a couple of battalions, exploded a nuke close enough to them to scare them a bit-"

"What's the hurry?"

"Eddore," said Trent impatiently, "has what he needs. j.a.pan rose, the U.S. is rising, he'll get the martial law he wants. Now he can sendreal s.p.a.ce Force in to protect the InfoNet Relay Station, and he doesn't have to worry about the Rebs not rising, 'cause they already have. Clear?"

"He doesn't need you anymore."

"Need me?"Trent laughed aloud. "As of twenty minutes ago I'm the most dangerous enemy he has left.

Come on, Neil, grab your gold and let's get out of here."

Trent wasn't kidding; his Collective crew was boarding theLew Alton, moving at an easy trot, when Trent and I, the really big clown right behind us, pa.s.sed through Lock Ten on the way to Marc's private yacht. We stopped at the yacht's airlock. "Somebody's going to go let Marc out, aren't they?"

Trent blinked. The big clown loomed behind him. "Sure. I mean, eventually. I suppose."

"I can't leave him in jail for s.p.a.ce Force to find him. That's not-"