CHAPTER 08
From the top deck of the people's hall on Iron Bow Keokuk enjoyed the stunning view of Planet MG 212. The Elders had carefully chosen the water planet as the secret location for this year’s Steel Circle. As a periphery planet, MG 212 was seven hundred galaxies away from the nearest UDA colony or outpost. However, MG 212 was not a dead planet. Its endless oceans teamed with life. The tribes could boat, fish and swim, enjoying all the aquatic wonders the planet offered. Four of the AmerIndian Confederacy's twenty-eight annual Steel Circles had been held here.
Apache tribals filed into the council hall. The older tribals moved down into the closer seats where they could easily see the hard light display. The young warriors were dressed in standard black tactical garb. The older members of the tribe wore softer, more comfortable natural clothing of their choice. Keokuk noticed Peshlakai enter. She was alone and moved briskly despite her age. Only a few strands of gray broke her mane of black hair and echoes of her youthful beauty remained.
“Mother,” Keokuk raised his hand to help her down the stairs to sit closer to the hard light display.
Mother and son settled in. “So, why does your brother not attend the Steel Circle?” Keokuk suppressed a rising anger. The first words out of his mother's mouth, after not seeing him for two weeks, were a question about Wovoka.
“He's on an op, Mother. An important one with a limited window of opportunity. You know he would be here if he could.”
“They're all important. I haven't seen him since January,” she brushed a stray strand of fabric from the thick, colorful blanket that covered the top of her pretty white dress. “But you are right. He would come if he could. They keep him so busy, Keokuk. You would think there were no other packs for the tribe to use. But when you're the best, you are in demand.”
Keokuk nodded without a word. This was an old song and dance, his mother singing the praises of his brother in blatant, infuriating ignorance of his own accomplishment. Wovoka was well known as a rising Alpha and his pack was slated for only the most important ops in the future. But Keokuk was, nonetheless, a Tsimshian superstar. Every tribe chief and every Elder knew his name because every one of them had used his services directly at one time or another. In a major comp crisis, no one but Keokuk would do. This meant less than nothing to Peshlakai. All that mattered to her was his broken promise to a father now thirteen years dead.
Keokuk deftly changed the subject. “Been hearing the swag about White Earth? Word on the Tsimshian deep boards is that Stormseeker is pushing for an acquisition assault within two seasons.”
Peshlakai chuckled, “That's silly, Keokuk. The loss of eighteen thousand lives is not forgotten in thirteen years. Stormseeker is often over ambitious but he is not a fool. What you speak of would be an act of a fool. UDA forces on White Earth have tripled since the White Earth Massacre. AC forces still need to acquire more equipment and recruits before we have the forces we took in the first time.”
Keokuk nodded in acknowledgment. “You're probably right. Just telling you the rumors.”
The lights in the room dimmed until only the stars shining through the glasteel walls lit the room. At the center of the hall the hard light display brightened and scrolling text morphed into an image of the five Elders. They sat in a circle, facing each other, in ornately carved wooden chairs. The image was transmitted from the Zuni lodge ship, Heidegger.
John, the Wisdom Elder, opened gatherings. His level personality set a tone of calm before the hundreds of concerns of nearly half a million tribals were thrown on the table.
“Friends, family, honored members of all tribes, allies to the cause, thank you for gathering here in this far corner of the universe. For the duration of the Steel Circle your daily tasks will be set aside, no projects to press you. This is your time, our time. Enjoy it; relish it. This time will pass quickly. The Elders, of course, have much to consider and we welcome the tribes and our allies to join us in discussion of the many issues that face the AmerIndian confederacy.”
Keokuk observed the group of Elders. John was distinctly different from the rest. He was the only one of the Elders who obviously had no AmerIndian blood. He was a Black male of fifty or more years with short cropped black hair. He now wore his distinct wardrobe by which most tribals recognized him, a light blue pair of dungarees and nothing else. His body was remarkably fit for a man of his age. He was barefoot.
At John's left sat Stormseeker, Elder Warrior. He had served the AmerIndian Confederacy every day of its twenty-eight year existence. Even now he wore light micromesh, poly-plate battle armor and a hand cannon strapped to his thigh. A combat knife and thermite grenades hung from hooks on his chest plate. His AmerIndian blood was evident and he wore his straight black hair long, no braids or adornments. His face was handsome, yet scarred in several places where combat duty has taken its toll.
Morgan Weaver, the son of Potlatch Weaver who was the father and now guiding spirit of the AC, sat regaled in full AmerIndian Chief costume, headdress, ornamental bone chest plate, buckskin pants and moccasins. His father had worn these symbols well. On Potlatch Weaver these symbols were reminders of days long past but soon to be regained. On Morgan Weaver, the Operations Elder, they were ostentatious reminders of what was lost and might never be recaptured.
Kugan, the Resource Elder, was dressed neatly in a simple, stylish suit. Even now he stared blankly into his comp set ignoring John's greeting and introduction. He was handsome with a mix of Hispanic and AmerIndian features, approximately fifty. His well-groomed beard did little to hide his age.
The fifth Elder stood out even among these unusual individuals. Celetain Prax, the Elder Shaman, was the only woman among them and younger than any by half. She was strikingly beautiful with pure blood features. She wore a loose hunter green leather coat over a tight black jumpsuit. Thin, black wrestling shoes covered her small feet. A string of large diamonds circled her neck.
This remarkable necklace was one of the few surviving pieces of evidence that Malgus IX had ever existed. The huge planet had been covered with a layer of poisonous gas that made settlement impossible. However, diamonds as large as escape pods could be found just twenty meters below the surface. The UDA had twenty-four outposts that served no other purpose than to support a brisk intergalactic diamond trade. It took UDA leaders only three days to have Malgus IX blown into fine space dust using 127 Goliath nukes. All reports of the planet had been stripped from UDA files and the UDA ship that discovered the planet was attacked and destroyed by a UDA hunter ship. The UDA officially reported that the ship had been destroyed by an AmerIndian Confederacy ambush.
Five Elders. Five points of power. Five voices leading the AmerIndian Confederacy through the struggles of survival and growth. Each played a distinct role in governing the tribes.
Morgan Weaver, who suffered the burden of his father's shadow, played the less than desirable role of administrator. A weak leader, Weaver, however, was a consummate politician. He held strong influence in economic, military and religious circles. Hundreds of favors were owed him and strong ties to the Zuni information network insured his power. Weaver wielded enough influence to ensure no other Elder or tribe chief could ignore his input. He could facilitate or frustrate the plans of any of the other Elders and often did.
Stormseeker's role was obvious. He was the warrior; revered by every tribal warrior for the length and quality of his service to the AmerIndian Confederacy. Stormseeker oversaw all three of the battle tribes. The chiefs of the Apache, Brule and Nez Perce answered directly to him and he could countermand their orders.
John, the philosopher of the group, was its center of knowledge. He held the Elders and the tribes to a high standard. Serving as mercenaries and bandits, it often became difficult for AC leadership to see the thin line between freedom fighter and killer. What kept the 416,000 members of the AmerIndian Confederacy fed, clothed and sheltered was combat and confiscation. The AmerIndian Confederacy was preparing for a crusade to win ba
ck the Homeland. When they were honest about it they referred to their operations as merc work and Robin Hood justice. The UDA called it terrorism and thievery. However the tribes viewed their work, there were serious concerns about where the line was drawn between efficiency and savagery. John helped all of the tribes reconcile the blood on their hands without ever letting them forget their goals.
Merc work and confiscation of UDA property had been AmerIndian Confederacy monkeyshines in its inception year, 2164. In 2192 it was big business. The AmerIndian Confederacy was grossing over ninety billion creds per year and the one man responsible for the safety and growth of those funds was Kugan the Moneychanger. An economic genius and ruthless business manager, Kugan was building an economic empire for the AmerIndian Confederacy. Many tribals wondered if the economic force Kugan wielded did not already outweigh the military might Stormseeker commanded.
As the daughter of the greatest Shaman the AC had ever known, Celetain Prax now held the position of spiritual leader. Celetain was also the creator of Cybershamanism; a mixture of traditional Shamanism, Wicca, Chinese Ancestor Worship and Yoga, all filtered and manipulated by complex agent programs. Cybershamanism's performance had dwarfed the slow, methodical results of traditional shamanism and ushered in a new day of power and influence for the Haida tribe. She was a prophet, healer and spiritual leader. Stormseeker had attempted to remove her from the Council several times, but failed due to her support among the Haida and the Diegueño.
Between the five leaders a strong, flexible government was woven and the future of the AmerIndian Confederacy rested in their hands.
John leaned forward and tapped his fingers lightly. “Our first matter tonight is the loss of Turquoise Shark, third lodge ship of the Kichai. Currently over thirty-one thousand Kichai are crammed into Chimera and Shoeless Joe. The Nez Perce and the Apache have been gracious enough to accept many temporary residents onto their lodge ships, but the situation has gone on for eight months and their hospitality has understandably grown thin. The time has come to execute plans to secure a replacement lodge ship for the Kichai. The Brule strategists have set the force requirements at twenty outrider ships and the monetary requirements at forty-five million creds. Stormseeker, can you release twenty outrider ships for the lodge ship acquisition at this time?”
“I am -” Stormseeker's voice was interrupted.
A young warrior, a perfect human specimen obvious to all as a clone, stood shouting from the second tier. The hard light display shrank and shifted its view to show him in the corner. “You have nothing available, wise and brave Elder for acquiring new lodge ships. You made that clear to the clones at the last Steel Circle.”
“Nez Perce Quill has spoken out of turn,” John was quick to address the outburst. “Ex-checker, please deduct five wampum from the primary accounts of each Nez Perce and place the units in the general education fund.”
Quentin Low appeared on the hard light display. He was a powerful Zuni clone and had influence to command speaking time at any Steel Circle. “I grant two minutes of my time to my excited brother. I wish to hear the rest of what he has to say.” Low was known as a sympathizer of Humanitace, a radical clones right group that started in the AC then spread to hundreds of outposts and a few colony planets.
Quill stood again. “We must be allowed our own tribe. The AmerIndian Confederacy has been kinder and more willing to fight for the rights of clones than any other group in any galaxy. But if we are to be considered true brothers, true blood, we must be allowed to establish our own tribe.”
John answered this assertion quickly. “Quill, I understand your frustration. The Elders are aware of the difficult social, religious and ethical issues every clone faces. But since the birth of the AmerIndian Confederacy we have strived to make an equal distribution of clones in all of the tribes in order to strengthen and support the idea that clones are not different from other humans. All tribes have clones just as all tribes have skinny or left-handed or redheaded members. Forming a tribe exclusively of clones will only intensify the alienation we have tried so hard to eliminate.”
Many tribals nodded in agreement with John's tempered words. He was a careful orator and a peacemaker and his words often muted the anger of one tribal toward another.
Quill continued, his voice level. “But we are different and most of us do not wish to deny that clear fact. We have served the AmerIndian Confederacy with valor. We have earned the right of tribal representation; a chief, a lodge ship, a focused occupation and the right to appoint an Elder. If the AmerIndian Confederacy continues to deny that we are a people unto ourselves, yet brothers nonetheless, we will be forced to separate from the body.”
Murmurs and angry shouts rose from the crowd. Quill's statement was the first public declaration of the clones' intent. There were clones that did not wish to form a separate tribe but they were now a small minority. Quill would not have made his statement if not confident he was backed by the majority of AC clones.
The Elders were silent for a moment contemplating the magnitude of Quill's statement. Each knew the timing of the statement was deliberate. The Steel Circle was held only once a year and a decision on whether to allow a ninth tribe would have to be made during this Steel Circle. If no decision was made, Quill might make good on his threat and there would be no or few AmerIndian Confederacy clone tribals at the next Steel Circle.
Stormseeker stood. He walked forward on the platform and pointed a scarred finger at Quill, “Do you think, boy, that you can threaten the Elder Council; make a political power play against the five?”
Stormseeker shook his head and paced. His left hand rested on the massive Sledge Raider hand cannon at his side. “Quill, stand again. Do you know how much the AmerIndian Confederacy has given to the clones; how hard every member of this council has strived to give AC clones rights and privileges that are unheard of on any UDA colony or outpost? In the AmerIndian Confederacy clones are treated as equals. They have every right afforded any other tribal. For decades the clones have fought to be equal. The AmerIndian Confederacy was the first group in any galaxy to treat clones as true brothers. And because the AmerIndian Confederacy's progress in incorporating the clones is not complete enough, not fast enough, you threaten the council with abandonment of all the tribes. You threaten to turn away from brotherhood. You threaten each Elder; myself, Kugan, Celetain Prax, John and Morgan Weaver as though proper discourse will be ignored; as though the Elders will turn a deaf ear to your pleas; as though we will not listen. So it is the clones’ decision that an ultimatum is to be leveled at the Elders, not a discussion or communication, but threats. Is this what you think of us, Quill?”
Quill had no more time allotted to speak but by asking him a question Stormseeker automatically allotted two minutes for him to answer.
Quills anger was apparent. He did not appreciate the tone Stormseeker was using and he shook slightly. He was silent for a moment before his muscles relaxed. “Elder, you are wise and you have never turned away a tribal at the Steel Circle without first hearing him in full and listening with an open heart. I spoke in anger. I conveyed the anger of my clone brothers. We ask that the ultimatum be forgotten and that the Elders hear our request to form a new tribe in light of the genuine wish of the clones to serve the AmerIndian Confederacy in a new and vigorous spirit.”
Celetain Prax responded. “Thank you Quill for your words, and for your submission to the Elders. I will insure that each Elder gives honest consideration to the requests of the clones.”
Keokuk smiled. The Elders were wise leaders, strong when strength was needed, caring when gentleness was needed. This confrontation with Quill was a sign of serious unrest among the clones. The Elders would have to make some concessions or there would be more problems. There was already a great deal of friction between tribals and clones. Clones were inherently stronger, more handsome or beautiful. Many were intellectually superior and these differences caused friction. Disagreements between
tribals and clones caused inefficiency and miscommunication. Of the nine lodge ship murders committed by tribals last year seven had involved a clone.
But for now the issue was settled. John was already steering the conversation back to the issue of a new lodge ship for the Kichai. Keokuk was curious exactly how critical the need for lodge ships was. He tapped up a data column on his comp set showing the eight tribes.
The AmerIndian Confederacy currently maintained 30 lodge ships, 620 outrider ships and 5,100 ready fighters. Since the last Steel Circle the AmerIndian Confederacy had grown by eleven percent and the rate of growth was increasing. At each AmerIndian Confederacy campaign the group picked up tens if not hundreds of new member candidates. At least three new lodge ships would be needed this year alone.
Keokuk turned his attention back to the Elders. They were now fielding questions on the White Earth situation. As always the Brule pushed for an attack soon, citing the fact that while the AmerIndian Confederacy had fewer bodies than at the time of the last attack, the ships, fighters and arms were all superior. The average AC trooper was stronger, smarter and better trained. All of this was true, Keokuk thought to himself, but as the Haida were quick to point out, the UDA also had better equipment and more of it than they had eight years ago.
Thirteen years ago Potlatch Weaver led 400 outrider ships and 200,000 tribals, into battle to take White Earth as the AC's home planet. The assault was a catastrophe for the AmerIndian Confederacy, 18,000 tribals dead in two hours. UDA Captain Lige had found the secret location of the AC's non-combatants and wreaked havoc on the lodge ships before they could retreat. Potlatch's assault on White Earth was proceeding as planned until the fleet got the news and the tide turned. It was the single bloodiest battle of the twenty-third century. Keokuk did not think it was time to try again. There were still thousands of widows from the White Earth Massacre and only now was recovery starting to be evident.
Recruitment was more a matter of turning away than accepting and the creds were rolling in faster than they could be calculated. Keokuk felt the AmerIndian Confederacy needed time to enjoy this prosperity before it was once again plunged into the turmoil of full war.
The Elders spoke eloquently, each making valid points. The White Earth debate raged for another hour and did not seem to be coming to an end any time soon. Keokuk got up and hugged his mother before he left. He would read the rest of the speeches on the ship server later. He had numerous projects to get back to and talk could wait.