He was typical of the scum that crawl out from underneath their rock during periods of anarchy for their time in the sun.
To ensure there was no loss of discipline and control while he was gone, Rennedee ordered Rodomontade to arrest fifty people—men, women and children—every night, and execute them the next morning. Rodomontade was a toad, but he wasn’t stupid. He had to consider what would happen should the revolutionaries be defeated. He did have the people arrested, but stayed their execution. With this duplicity he could seek leniency, claiming to have saved hundreds of lives by defying a direct order from Rennedee. Should Rennedee be successful and return to Oria with the nuclear weapons, Rodomontade could just execute the people then, thereby confirming his loyalty to Rennedee.
The general paused. There was no discussion among the Committee members, no stray remarks or chatter. Everyone knew Raton’s thoroughness. Most of their questions would be answered even before they were asked.
“Our second option, to be implemented concurrently, is also military. Let me introduce General Abgeo Ribbert, head of our Special Missions Unit.”
The general was one of the other two officers in the room. His chair was off the table, behind the Chairman and General Raton. The Chairman moved his chair slightly to the left to allow Ribbert to stand comfortably at the table while addressing the Committee.
Aside from the Chairman and General Raton, none of the other Committee members had met, seen or even heard of Ribbert. This was as it should be. Ribbert’s unit was the most secret, hush-hush, elite, high-tech in the Armed Forces. Many of the Unit’s operations had political implications with foreign powers. The politicians had to have plausible deniability of their operations. General knowledge of any of their operations could be terribly embarrassing. Aside from the Cube insignia on his collar denoting the rank of general, and his obviously excellent physical condition, although not approaching the physique of General Raton or anywhere near the other officer in the room, he looked like almost any other early middle-age male on Oria.
As always, Ribbert was efficient and to the point. “Thank you, Sir,” he said, looking at General Raton, the Chairman, and as he glanced at the other Committee members, “Ladies and Gentlemen. Our plan is to kill Rennedee on Earth, before he can return to Oria with the nuclear weapons. There is time to send only one man. Because of Rennedee’s four day head start, we cannot intercept him before he reaches Earth. However, we do hope to make up two, or possibly even three days, of this head start by having the quark-drive fighter transporting our man receive an energy boost beamed directly from the Cube. Just as Rennedee is planning to do, our man will take over/assimilate the body of an earth man and assume his existence. We’ve already identified a ‘human,’ as they call themselves, we feel will provide a perfect cover for this operation. Our man will stalk and kill Rennedee on Earth, before he can precipitate nuclear war and leave Earth with the weapons.
“After discussions with Chairman Rommeler, General Raton and my senior officers, we feel we must keep the mission’s parameters as simple as possible. Because any virtual photon transmissions coming from the direction of Earth would immediately alert the rebels to our intentions, communications can be only unidirectional. There are many variables that will be impossible to predict in advance. We must reduce all factors to their basics. Our man must have maximum flexibility to make decisions based upon his judgment of the situation. We have thus decided that this mission will have only two directives. The first is to kill Rennedee on Earth. Nothing, I repeat nothing, supersedes this directive. At all costs, Rennedee must be stopped on Earth.”
As Ribbert spoke, he used no particular gestures or body language, facial expressions or voice inflection. Only his determination was obvious.
“The second directive, superseded only by the first, is that our soldier’s alien identity must remain a secret. The repercussions to their society that an alien was on Earth, much less to kill someone in a position of great importance, would be impossible to determine. Anything at all that could point to an alien origin, including weapons and our man’s identity, will be camouflaged. Our man will sacrifice the secret of his alien identity only if it is required to kill Rennedee.” Ribbert glanced at the younger officer seated behind him. “To complete this mission we have chosen Major Hoken Rommeler.”
The other officer stood up and took a step forward from the shadows toward the table, to stand just behind Raton’s right shoulder. Hoken was the youngest of Chairman Rommeler’s three sons, and at thirty-three, the youngest major in the service. He was well known to all, not only because of his father, but even moreso because of his service record. It was his unit that had broken through the Grog lines in the recent Grog-Azark War to change the course of the battle and lead to final victory.
General Ribbert continued. “Major Rommeler was chosen because he has the combination of skills that makes him best suited to complete this mission. He will leave for Earth in eight hours. As General Raton has noted, both of our military options will be implemented simultaneously.”
Ribbert nodded to Raton and Chairman Rommeler that he was finished with his presentation. He and Major Rommeler stepped back and stood at ease, legs spread apart, hands clasped behind their backs.
General Raton looked back at the soldiers and said, “General, Major, you are dismissed.” The two walked briskly to the door and let themselves out.
Chairman Rommeler waited for both men to leave the room and then immediately got back to business. “Our third option requires a political, not a military, decision. It is whether to use our ultimate weapon, the Rankin Cube. Everyone,” he paused and repeated, “everyone on our planet has known from the outset that the revolutionaries could be defeated at any time were we willing to use the power of the Cube as a weapon, to scorch the land held by the revolutionaries. The practical consequences of incinerating the surface of 11 percent of our planet, and in the process killing as many as 7 percent of our citizens, hundreds of million of our people, and the consequences to our consciences”—he said with an almost painful look—“were so abhorrent that none of us even mentioned this terrible but obvious option. We must never forget that our enemies are really our fellow citizens, many of whom are merely innocent bystanders in this tragedy.
“However, it is my opinion that Rennedee cannot be allowed to bring nuclear weapons to this planet. Billions could die. I formally recommend to this Committee that if both of the military options just discussed fail and Rennedee brings nuclear weapons to this planet, that the power of the Cube be unleashed on the revolutionaries. I ask for your opinions.”
Hwaet Wir-Gardena, the senior member of the Committee, spoke first. Wir-Gardena always sat to the left of the Chairman. At age 132, he was the senior member both in age and in length of service, 59 years. Wir-Gardena was Chairman Emeritus of the planet’s second largest industrial concern. He had twice been offered the Chairmanship of the Committee but declined. The only award he ever accepted was the Decoration of Biro, the equivalent of an intergalactic Nobel Peace Prize. Wir-Gardena was simply the most respected man on the planet. His sincerity generated trust and his honesty and character were above reproach. He was Chairman Rommeler’s personal hero. Rommeler considered him “The Great One of Our Age.” Because of his stature, a word that seemingly originated to describe a man such as him, it was uncommon for any major issue to pass without his support.
Although Wir-Gardena seemed, especially as time went on, to be the ultimate of the corporate-establishment type, it was only after he died, and his biographers examined the record, that they came to a really startling observation: Wir-Gardena valued and furthered the careers of the people who others would consider mavericks or individualists; the people who broke new ground, the people like current Chairman Metetet Rommeler.
Wir-Gardena said very little at the meetings, letting the issues of lesser importance be decided without his input. He often just leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed, giving the appearance to new members that he might even be asleep. He was never asleep. Wir-Gardena didn’t have to worry about his image because the proceedings of the Committee of One Hundred and the Committee of Ten were never broadcast. Normally, they would have narcotized even the most shrill political activists, putting them asleep.