Kelly struggled to kick the sleeping bag off. “Arrest you? Why?”
“Because I chose to fi?ght the Ramanthians my way instead of their way.”
“But what about the perfect plan?” the doctor wanted to know. “If it’s perfect, you should follow it.”
“The plan is perfect,” Six replied defensively. “But some of the people who are supposed to implement the plan aren’t. General-453 is an idiot.”
“So you’re a revolutionary,” Kelly said, as she fastened her boots. “Just like the people you detest.”
“Don’t you ever stop talking?” Six demanded. “Hurry up.”
“No,” Kelly said fi?rmly, as she stood. “There’s no need for me to hurry since I’m staying here.” It wasn’t what the doctor wanted to do, but it was what she should do, and Kelly was determined to take a stand.
“We have Sumi,” Six replied evenly. “And the revolutionaries want you to leave in spite of what you did for them. So get ready.”
Kelly felt a strange sense of relief knowing that the situation was beyond her control and went off to pack her things. Twenty minutes later a Fisk led the soldiers plus twentyfi?ve heavily laden Ortovs through a maze of passageways, down what seemed like endless fl?ights of stairs, and out into the freezing cold. The pursuing Seebos were on the other side of the butte, and the chase was on.
PLANET ALPHA-001, THE CLONE HEGEMONY
Consistent with Founder Hosokowa’s master plan, every city of any size had an elaborate water-recovery and purifi?cation system designed to take advantage of rainfall and runoff, thereby reducing the need for dams, wells, and expensive pipelines. Once collected, the water had to be stored, which was why the lake-sized reservoir had been constructed before the city was built above it, and had subsequently been capped with a one-foot-thick duracrete lid. That, for lack of a better location, was where the Revolutionary Council was about to hold its fi?rst and possibly last public meeting. Even though the space wasn’t intended for such gatherings the high-arched ceiling, and the lights that twinkled like distant stars, gave the place a majestic feeling. Folding chairs had been placed on top of the lid, a temporary PA system was up and running, and a ring of pole-mounted spots threw light onto the seats.
Security was extremely tight. Having been given only an hour’s notice prior to the meeting, the attendees were subjected to DNA analysis as they entered and were processed through a receiving area. The precaution was intended to make sure none of the attendees were surgically altered Romos or Nerovs. Once that formality was out of the way, the representatives were funneled into twelve cleaning stations, where dozens of tiny robots were removed from each delegate and they were given new clothes. Then, and only then, were the men and women who had been chosen to represent the various lines allowed to fi?le out onto the concrete lid and take their seats.
Christine Vanderveen hated the cleaning process, but was willing to go through it, in order to be present at the very start of the revolution. Assuming Alan and the rest of the Council could muster the votes necessary to start a revolt. Because in order to succeed, the would-be revolutionaries knew they would need support from all of the genetic lines, and at least 70 percent of the overall population. Many of whom were satisfi?ed with their lot in life —or too afraid to oppose authority. Still, Alan believed suffi?cient support was available, and the Council did as well. So once Vanderveen had clothes back on, she was in a hopeful frame of mind as she walked out onto the lid. Because if the revolution was a success, and the Council kept its word, the Confederacy of Sentient Beings would have a new member. Which would be qualitatively different from the lukewarm alliance currently in place. Could that impact the battle for Earth? Vanderveen certainly hoped so, because her mother, and billions of other humans, were in desperate need of help.
Speed was of the essence, lest the Romos and Nerovs get wind of the gathering, so the last of the incoming delegates were still getting dressed when the meeting was called to order. Vanderveen, who was the only foreign dignitary present, had been given a seat in the fi?rst row, where she had a good view of the seven-person council. Though not allowed to record the proceedings or take notes, Vanderveen did the best she could to memorize what went on for inclusion in the report she planned to write later. But would anyone be willing to read a document authored by a renegade diplomat? Yes, Vanderveen thought they would, but only if the revolution was successful. Because at that point Nankool and his senior staff would be desperate for an “in.”
With the preliminaries out of the way, Alan rose to speak on behalf of the governing council. In terms of appearance, he was almost the polar opposite of Antonio Santana. Because where Alan had light-colored hair— Tony’s was midnight black. And where Alan was idealistic—Tony was cynical. And where Alan was a man of ideas —Tony was a man of action. Yet there were commonalities as well. Both men were intelligent, caring, and funny. So how to choose? Promises had been made to Tony—but the two of them weren’t engaged. All of that was going through the diplomat’s mind as Alan began to speak.
“Welcome to what may very well be a historic meeting. We are gathered here to consider the fi?rst step on a very uncertain path. Which, when you think about it, was the very thing the Founder sought to avoid. Because she believed that all of humanity’s problems, reverses, and tragedies stem from uncertainty. To remedy that, Dr. Hosokowa and her advisors created a plan, a blueprint by which predictable people would do predictable things and produce predictable results.”
Alan paused at that point. As his bright green eyes made momentary contact with hers, Vanderveen felt something akin to electricity jump the gap. “And it worked,” Alan continued soberly. “Not perfectly, not in every case, but across society as a whole. The pain previously associated with familial relationships was eliminated. The massive gap between the rich and poor was closed. Everyone had equal access to health care. Each person had useful work to do. And even nature was tamed to some extent.
“So, why give that up? Well, the answer is simple, if somewhat counterintuitive. A predictable existence may be safe, but it’s also boring, and stultifying, and colorless, and joyless. Because without pain there is no pleasure, and without challenge there is no success, and without freedom there is no opportunity to fail! And ultimately to learn from failing.
“That’s why the Council and I invited you here,” Alan continued earnestly. “To tell you that the time has come. Conditions will never be better than they are right now! Let’s take back our lives, and the right to live them as we see fi?t, even if we suffer as a result. If you authorize us to do so, we will strike a blow for freedom, and the revolution will begin. I cannot tell you when, where, or how for reasons of security. But I can assure you that once the blow is struck, you and your line will recognize the event for what it is. And that will be the moment when you must lead your brothers and sisters to the ramparts—where those who worship the status quo will defend it to the end. Thank you for listening. The voting process will begin now. No one will be allowed to leave the area until all votes have been submitted and counted.”
There was a stir as monitors began to make the rounds, and individuals representing the various lines began to cast their votes. Vanderveen was proud of both Alan, and the speech, and felt sure that Nankool would approve as well had the president been present to hear it.
