The excitement of repeated emergency sessions was starting to wear off. This time, Chairman Patek didn’t have to call for silence in the Hall of the Political Bureau. Or perhaps the relative calm among the Ministers was simply a consequence of him and the Minister of the Interior having kept the purpose of this meeting secret. That calm, he suspected, would soon end.
“Welcome to today’s session, comrades,” he began. “Sadly, events have transpired that require our attention once again. In the interest of expediency, I leave the floor to the Minister of the Interior.”
If nothing else, the seemingly cordial relationship between the Chairman and Minister Tomar should have been cause for alarm. This was the opposite of the public animosity they had displayed during the previous meeting. But no one in the Hall seemed to pick up on it. No one but Namir All.
“Good day, comrades,” she said as she reached the pulpit. “Let me be brief and to the point. Just after midnight today, one of our shipments of refined plutonium, in the process of being transferred from Refinement Facility B to the prototype bomb construction site at Holver, was intercepted by unknown assailants. The plutonium carried in the transport van has not yet been located. In coordination with Chairman Patek, I have already taken the liberty to instruct the Committee for Jerrassian Security to direct all their efforts toward finding and retrieving the stolen radioactive material. Chairman Patek has further agreed to grant the CJS what is essentially an unlimited budget for the time being.”
The Minister of the Interior looked at the other Ministers seated in the Hall of the Political Bureau. Fear was apparent on their faces. This was not like the previous emergency sessions, where the threat the aliens posed had been mostly abstract. This time, their own lives might be at stake.
“Furthermore,” she continued, “it is now of utmost importance that we consider how we can prevent the aliens from realizing what—”
At that point, Namir rose from his seat next to the now-empty chair of the Minister of the Interior.
“First Assistant Namir,” the Minister called out. “Sit down! This is not appropriate behavior.” Having her own assistant break protocol in the Hall of the Political Bureau was the height of embarrassment, and she now had to try to save face.
But Namir All would not give her the chance.
“Sit down and stay silent, Felt,” Namir ordered his boss. As he reached the pulpit, he pushed her to the side. “Thank you for introducing me,” he said snidely.
“Tomar Felt is right,” he continued, addressing the gathered Ministers of the People’s Council. “Nine hours ago, we, the Jerrassian Liberation Front, came into possession of one of your shipments of plutonium. We thank you for providing us with that. During the morning, my comrades have—at considerable risk to their own lives, I should say—placed those plutonium pellets inside the casing of the largest chemical bomb we have at our disposal. This compound device, which I would like to call a radiological bomb, has now been placed at a location within this city. I will not disclose where, as that will be up to you to find out—if the time comes.”
As expected, the Ministers displayed a wide range of reactions. Some stayed silent in fear, while others shouted in anger. Chairman Patek’s voice was the loudest among them. “Guards!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. “Arrest this man!”
“Please,” Namir said, spreading his hands in a façade of cordiality. “There is no need for that. If you try to arrest me or locate the bomb, I will detonate it remotely. Tens of thousands of people will die, and their blood will be on your hands.”
The guards, who were already approaching the pulpit, hesitated. After one look at Chairman Patek, they turned and went back to their positions at the entrance to the Hall.
“The Jerrassian Liberation Front has two demands. You must meet them, or we will detonate the bomb,” Namir continued.
“The first demand is the immediate resignation of Chairman Patek and the transfer of power to Minister of the Interior Tomar.
The second demand is an immediate change in policy toward the inhabitants of the former capitalist territories. Anyone with capitalist leanings, either in their own history or in their family, must be cleansed. To that end, the People’s Council must immediately order the conversion of the labor camps in the annexed territories—what you call the vacation villages—into extermination camps. To the glory of the worker’s paradise!”
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
His first demand was just for show, an afterthought added to sow suspicion and confusion. He didn’t even like Minister Tomar, though he still found her a tad more impressive than Chairman Patek. The second demand was what really mattered: safeguarding the ideological purity of the nation. The People’s Council had failed in this, and it was up to the Jerrassian Liberation Front to take up the mantle.
And with that, Namir All left the pulpit, exited the Hall of the Political Bureau, and no one bothered him on the way out.
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“I know nothing about this!” Minister of the Interior Tomar’s voice was shrill with denial. “That… that orvat-var. He’s worked with me for years. The CJS vetted him. I trusted him. We all trusted him. But he’s a terrorist and a traitor to the nation!”
The Ministers gathered in the Hall now showed visible distress. At any moment, their families, children, husbands, wives—or they themselves—could fall victim to the invisible radioactive cloud silently spreading through the city. There were five million people living in Kerrma-non. Even with teams equipped with radiation counters, searching every building in the city would take months. And if even one of those teams were spotted by the so-called Liberation Front, the bomb would be detonated.
Chairman Patek was furious, and once again, his anger was directed at Minister Tomar. She had—knowingly or not—brought a traitor into their midst.
In the chaos following the revelation, Minister of the Interior Tomar knew her only chance for redemption was to side with Chairman Patek, despite his vitriolic words. “I will immediately retask the Committee for Jerrassian Security to locate this terrorist bomb,” she said, attempting to regain control of the situation. “I will… we will do everything in our power to bring those responsible for this heinous act to justice.”
“How?” Chairman Patek demanded. “How will you even… where would you even begin? Even if we sent in the entire Crimson Legion to search the city, we would never find the bomb in time.”
“The Crimson Legion is our army, not an intelligence division,” Minister of Defense Dareem interjected. “They’re neither trained nor equipped for such a task. Solving this crisis falls squarely on the shoulders of Minister Tomar and her Committee for Jerrassian Security.”
“They can do it. I have full confidence in their capabilities,” Minister Tomar declared. “The CJS is dedicated to the welfare of this nation. With increased resources, they can find the bomb without the Liberation Front noticing.”
“It’s all well and good that you believe in your own creation, Minister Tomar,” Chairman Patek replied. “But I don’t. It’s one thing to say you believe they can do it. It’s another to tell us exactly how they would do it—and I have yet to hear that explanation from you.”
She stood there in silence, trying to think, trying to find something to say. But every attempt at forming a plan to salvage the situation turned up nothing. In the end, she had to admit, at least to herself, that Chairman Patek was right. Her trust in the secret police would not be enough to solve this. The whole situation was getting out of hand.
It was Palomar Tor, the Minister of Education, who eventually broke the stalemate. A comparably small woman, she rarely spoke up during meetings of the People’s Council—unless first addressed. She was the quiet thinker, the one who almost never said anything, but when she did, you’d better listen.
“I know how to solve this,” she said in a low voice. Then louder, “Let’s ask the aliens for help.”
The voices in the Hall turned once again into a roar. The aliens. Feared, mistrusted, with an unknown agenda. The Council still viewed them as a threat to the continued rule of the Party.
“Have you lost your mind, Minister Palomar?” the Chairman demanded. “Just days ago, we…” He nodded, indicating with “we” that he really meant the Minister of the Interior. “…we assassinated the alien captain. Now you want us to bow, apologize, and ask them for help? And you expect them to just drop everything and come do our bidding? On top of that, you realize asking them for help means admitting we lied to them about our plutonium enrichment program?”
It was Minister Dareem who came to her defense. “No,” he shouted, “Minister of Education Palomar is correct. This could be the solution we’ve been looking for. The aliens have advanced technology: planes that can fly without wings, engines that can move them between stars. With such technology, they probably even have electrical computers small enough to fit into their ship. They might have the resources we need to locate the bomb.”
Chairman Patek considered the suggestion for a few seconds. He didn’t trust the aliens, but Minister of Defense Dareem was right. “It’s a very interesting proposal, Minister Dareem,” he said. “Particularly in terms of how we might handle the fallout if the plan fails. If the aliens don’t succeed and the bomb goes off, we can present the plan in such a way that it’s clear to the people we did everything in our power to stop it, but ultimately, not even the aliens could prevent the disaster.”
“Indeed,” Minister Dareem responded. “If the plan fails, we’ll simply blame the aliens. And if it succeeds, we take the credit.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Minister of Education Palomar said quietly. “That’s not right. It’s not how we should—” But her voice was drowned out by the rising shouts of support for the plan from the gathered Ministers.