“Fellow Magentans, if the civilisation already living on the sixth planet would have allowed us to share their world then all would have been well, however, following our reconnaissance from space your government has decided that this would be impossible. They are a mixture of paranoid cultures, and ones who are always at war with one another; if we put our trust in them then war would be the result with one faction or another. The only option open to us would be to wipe the sixth planet clean of the indigenous intelligent life form, an option being voiced now from all four corners of our doomed planet. It is a thing that only an evil and monstrous people could undertake, an option that I am quite obviously firmly against and will never authorise. Desperate we may be, but monsters we are not. An advanced civilisation such as ours would soon regret such an action, and we would come to see ourselves as abnormal, a hideously twisted species, we would finally self-destruct in an orgy of violence. And so the search for a new home for our people will have to continue even further afield, our fully automated deep space probes will never stop looking, and if god wills it so, we will be successful.”
The president looked very sad and exhausted by the end of his broadcast, for he felt that this would not be the end of the matter, and unfortunately, he was right. The Chosen Ones disagreed with Mortise, they believed that only the sixth planet would be suitable for the people of Magenta, and so they decided to force through their agenda, and win the sixth planet for Magenta. To this end, Orebetus Phairlis stormed into the presidential palace following the broadcast by the president and demanded to talk with President Mortise.
“Mr President, I am here to voice my protests regarding the content of your television broadcast regarding the sixth planet. To put the interests of a planet of barbarians before those of your own people is beyond contempt. I ask, no, I demand that you create a commission to look more fully into this most important matter before making your decision a final one.” Phairlis demanded, his voice carrying to the furthest rooms of the building, and winning applause in some quarters of the palace. This applause carried back to an anxious Mortise and stressed his need for caution and advice.
“Consul Phairlis, I already know your thoughts on this matter; I for one do not need to hear your demands.” Mortise replied angrily. “This is a matter for the full council and not just two of its members, however senior. If you want to raise this matter at the next council meeting, then I will be only too happy to listen to your demands.” Mortise said and he stood up and confronted Phairlis, their bodies only inches apart, their eyes locked together in anger. It was Phairlis who moved away first, for he had got what he wanted, the audience who had heard the heated exchange, and who would tell the worlds press of his determination to fight for his people over the matter of the sixth planet. He certainly did not want the confrontation to degenerate into a brawl that might lose him some of the more moderate of his supporters.
Oh I will Mr President.” Phairlis replied, fairly spitting out the last two words. “Do not think that the fate of our people will be left in your weak and feeble hands.” Phairlis then turned away and stormed from the room.
Mortise looked after him; he knew that he would have to endure more from his consul before long, and that he would have to look for allies to stand by his side, the side of civilisation.
Consul Phairlis smiled as he walked down the stairs of the presidential palace, ‘That went quite well.’ He said softly, for it was for his own ears only, he smiled as he thought of how the president had reacted. ‘The president still appears to have a little of his courage remaining, who would have thought it.’
In fact, President Mortise had just needed a little encouragement to show it, and a cause to fight for, unfortunately for the people living on the sixth planet he now had one.
As Phairlis left the palace, he went over in his mind his plans for the future, and for the future of those living upon the sixth planet. ‘Yes, what I have planned should be acceptable to the members of the grand council, poor buffoons, as for Mortise; well he would have to follow along no matter what he thought privately, I will see to that.’
Many people watched in amazement, as he walked along with a wide grin upon his face, normally he was such a serious individual.
‘But when to launch my proposal? Well, just before the next council meeting should be ideal. My television broadcast to the citizens of Magenta telling them of my plan to save many more of the people of this world will soon force the president`s feeble hands, and those of the council, as for me, I will not have to do anything.’
Phairlis was the owner of one of the major television studios on Magenta, a station that he had used to further his desires for power many time before, so getting approval to have his proposal broadcast to the people did not pose a problem. Moreover, he did use it to great effect on one fateful evening, just two days after his argument with Mortise, breaking into prime time television to give them his stupendous news. Advertised for the past thirty-six hours as the final solution to their woes, he ensured a large viewing audience, for everyone on Magenta knew of the danger posed by the rogue planet.
“People of Magenta, as our beloved president recently informed us, the civilisation that lives on the sixth planet is paranoid, constantly at war, and no better than the barbarians that use to live here on Magenta during our dark ages many centuries ago. He is correct in this, as anyone would know who reads the daily articles printed in my newspaper, the ones concerning the people of the sixth planet. I designed these articles so that you will always be well informed about the sort of people living on the sixth planet. And why, so that when the time comes to choose between your life and your family`s death, you will make informed decisions. These reports, carefully written by a dedicated team of investigators, have made me ask the question, why should their civilisation be allowed to grow, so that sometime in the future they can spread across the galaxy, when our own civilisation will be condemned to stagnating upon five miserable and very inhospitable worlds.” Phairlis`s voice filled the homes of the citizens of Magenta. He paused now to allow his massive audience, almost all of the citizens of Magenta, to take in his opening salvo before continuing.
“As there is no immediate rush to colonise the sixth planet, I propose that our scientists create a concentrated version of the chemical Trichlorian, one that we can release into the drinking water of the planet. It will be a gigantic task, but we shall succeed, we will make all the people on the planet infertile and prevent them from reproducing, stop them from inflicting their barbaric presence on the universe. For each decade that passes, over one billion of them will die naturally, with no births to add to the population, the population on the sixth planet will all but disappear within seventy years. Our mass migration can then commence, and without having to handle the guilt of murdering nine billion people.”
What Phairlis did not say was that he had no idea how effective this method would prove. How the Magentans would be able to ensure that the Trichlorian reached every corner on the planet before they came to the attention of the inhabitants, and the length of time dependent on using this method would leave little time to benefit many Magentans? However, there were other ways to rid the sixth planet of its indigenous population, ones that the president or the people of Magenta did not need to hear about. He for one would not wait for upwards of seventy years to cleanse the planet of most of its indigenous people. Once in orbit around it with his fleet, he would find an excuse to cleanse the planet quickly, then many more of the Magentan people would praise his name, when they began to move to their new home world.
“I have only one more thing to say to you all, the time to choose between our family`s life and death is already upon us, choose well.”
The viewers now watched as the studio darkened, leaving only the words of Phairlis printed on their screens.
**********
A grim faced president listened to Consul Phairlis speaking on television to his nation, and at a time when the protest marches by the c
itizens grew ever more in size and violence, and ever more frequent. United for only seventy-five years; he feared that the people of Magenta would remember old enemies, old scores, and that war would break out across the globe before the rogue planet finally destroyed Magenta. Whether it struck Magenta or plunged into its sun, the result would be the same, death for anyone living on their beautiful planet.
With the president that evening was his friend Doctor Mikel Baris, the planet`s leading medical research scientist, it was he who had found a way to greatly extend the life of Magentans, it was by cloning their bodies. As they talked over what Phairlis had said, the noise from a protest rally came through the partially open windows. The rally had started in the middle of the city, at the banks of the river that ran through it, and had finished at the presidential square, a march of just two miles. As the march progressed, the television viewers came onto the streets to join it, inflamed by what Phairlis had said on air, and solidly behind him. The noise coming from the protesters increased as they neared the presidential palace, and the peaceful protest march now turned violent, as a few specially chosen agitators chose this moment to strike. Two aluminium crossbow bolts crashed through two of the windows and flashing past the heads of Mortise and Baris, the crash of breaking glass startling them, but not as much as the two crossbow bolts. Glass from the broken windows was hurled everywhere, some finding its way to the two men, thankfully the crossbow bolts only found the solid rear wall. The two men threw themselves to the floor in fear for their lives, and stayed there until they were both sure that no more bolts were coming their way.
“My god, Mr President, his speech has turned them into a crazed mob!” Baris cried out in fear.
Mortise reached up and turned off the lights within the room, and then hugging the sidewall, he moved cautiously over to the side of one of the two large shattered windows, to look out at the scene below, Baris hesitantly went to the other broken window. The square, filled with the noise and demands of 100,000 citizens, was a scary sight for those within the palace. Some amongst the crowd carried protest banners with demands painted upon them, some of them wanting the president to go, while others demanding direct action concerning the sixth planet. ‘6th planet for Magentans,’ or ‘Out with Mortise, he is a Barbarian too,’ or ‘President Phairlis will look after us.’ Mortise got the message, he would have to speak again to his people in an attempt to quieten the ever growing unrest, and soon, before it made his cities burn.
The crowd was now moving towards the railings that surrounded the palace, and alarmingly, the palace guards who had been keeping the protesters at bay were now either moving back behind the railings, or if this was not possible, they were fleeing along the railings and seeking sanctuary at the rear entrance to the palace grounds.
“Is this some sort of treachery Baris?” Mortise asked in surprise at seeing such a well-trained force actually fleeing from mainly unarmed protesters.
“I believe it is Mr President, Councillor Marchland is your interior minister, this morning he publicly admitted to being on the council of the Chosen Ones; maybe he should be replaced by another minister, one who is not a Chosen One?” Baris suggested.
The crowd, now turned mob, were now at the railings, and only the actions of a dozen of the presidential guards, who appeared to have remained loyal to Mortise, prevented them from climbing over them. Looking down through the broken windows, Mortise and Baris watched as a member of the mob load another crossbow bolt into a weapon resembling a grenade launcher, and seconds later the bolt crashed through the last unbroken window. The weapon had shot the crossbow bolt with so much force that not even the strength of the double glazed windows could prevent it from breaking through.
“Baris, that must be the weapon that they used before, simple but lethal, especially in the hands of an agitator.” Mortise declared grimly.
Baris was becoming fearful for their life, worried what might happen if the mob burst into the palace. There was no telling what orders might have been given to them by the organiser of the riot.
“Mr President, where the hell is our police force, a full scale riot is threatening the safety of their president and they are skulking elsewhere, probably watching the riot on the television,” Baris complained.
Mortise glanced at across at his friend and then picked up the telephone and called Commander Denit, the most senior police officer within the capital city of Magenta.
“Commander Denit, where the hell are the police, there is a riot happening at the presidential palace, or hasn`t anyone told you?” Mortise asked.
“Yes Mr President, and after watching Consul Phairlis on the television it really is not much of a surprise, but do not worry Sir, I have already despatched one hundred specially trained officers to ensure the safety of yourself and anyone else within the palace.” Denit assured Mortise.
Even as Denit spoke, Mortise saw the riot police entering the square before the presidential palace. With the help of the remaining presidential guards, they began to push the rioters back, but not without some injuries to their men, for people amongst the crowd threw petrol bombs at the police officers, thankfully their riot shields protected them from the worst of the resulting explosive fires. Even so, the officers in the square below the president`s private rooms were getting fearful of the mob, however, it was the original peaceful protesters who finally decided the matter. Already unsettled by seeing their protest march highjacked by the agitators, they now chose to flee the growing violence. This movement of people out of the square left the agitators seriously exposed, and so the riot quickly fizzled out. Mortise turned away from the window in relief, just as the forces of law and order chased after the last of the agitators, who fled away down the streets and alleys that surrounded the square.
They arrested Captain Langer, the officer in charge of the presidential guards, just as the sun rose above the horizon. Information received from the few remaining officers who had remained loyal to the president told how he had instigated the cowardly act carried out by some of the presidential guards.
“If you want to be spared the ordeal of imprisonment, tell me now, who was behind your decision to flee your post last night, tell me quickly or else suffer the consequences?” Mortise demanded angrily.
Captain Langer looked shaken, for he had not expected this, he had assumed that Marchland would protect him, but he had seen the interior minister arrested by some of his former comrades. He told his president everything, of how Marchland had promised that he would be amongst the first of the new colonists on the sixth planet, and promoted to the rank of Commander. The new captain of the presidential guards led Langer away, to be held until Mortise ordered his release and dismissal from his prestigious post.
The presidential guards brought Councillor Marchland before the president; and Commander Denit now formerly arrested him. He chose to say nothing when he heard the charge, conspiracy to overthrow the legally elected president, and he remained silent all the way to his prison cell. He did not argue, for he assumed that Phairlis would soon have him released, or a lawyer would, one in the pay of Phairlis. He was wrong though, for he died two hours later when he fell down a flight of stairs inside of the Magenta central prison, an accident Mortise was told, by the prison governor, who also happened to be a friend of Phairlis.
Mortise spoke to his ministers at a hastily called Council meeting, and after hours of talking over their position regarding the sixth planet, he surrendered, they would do as suggested by Consul Phairlis, who was sitting opposite Mortise. Mortise had to stop himself from striking the man as he watched a cold smile of satisfaction come to the face of his Consul. Mortise would have liked to arrest his second in command, but unfortunately, he had no proof available to him to allow him to carry out this act. Instead, he advised the council that he would go on television that evening to inform the citizens of Magenta of their unanimous decision. That evening saw Mortise appear on every television channel on Magenta, appearing because he felt it nece
ssary to obey the terrible demands of the people, demands that went against his own principles.
“People of Magenta, your government having listened to your pleas, we have bowed before your demands to proceed with the plan put forward by Consul Phairlis, even though I still have some misgivings about it. If we succeed in our aim then we will have won for our people a planet that is very similar to our own beautiful planet, which will be violently destroyed in the too near future. However, there are still problems with the method that Consul Phairlis has proposed to use.
Problem one is that before I can authorise the use of the chemical, our scientists will have to assure me that they have found a way to ensure that it will not have any effect on the other animal life on the planet; otherwise, we would be condemning our colonists to a new life on a barren world.
Problem two concerns the limited time scale involved, will we have sufficient time to move enough of our people to this planet, for this can only commence when the population of its inhabitants has fallen to a low enough number.
Problem three concerns the state that the planet will be in why we finally arrive. For war will almost certainly break out between the nations when they realise what is happening, followed by anarchy as the last desperate survivors struggle for power. However, at least one of our space cruisers will always be in orbit around the planet, if nuclear war breaks out it will destroy any missiles launched that carry weapons of mass destruction. The clones working on the planet should be able to ensure that germ warfare is never carried out, as by then they will have replaced most senior politicians and the senior echelon of their armed forces.