The Wars of Zegandaria by Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov, Atanas Marinov (find a book to read .txt) 📕

was only ten minutes from here! If we miss reaching it, we're dead!' GORDON

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: GORDON

 

Elmbaum wasn't ecstatic either. He expected his troops to show more professionalism and determination to deal with the enemy. How could these idiots bend like reeds! A new election was approaching and Elmbaum was dreaming of his sixth term, which would make him the longest reigning governor in history. Couldn't figure them military guys out! What were they doing with some civilian objects! Their job was to fight and shoot, not think! Thinking was his job!

He intended to try a cunning option that would buy him extra time, even if it came at the cost of too many casualties.

He sliced off the tip of his cigar with one of those old-fashioned knives and took a deep drag. ‘What's called is what's called. What are we even talking about? About some philosophies and scruples.’ The war for that Kevlarite and Interon fuel was coming to him in spades. Not that money didn't matter, but he knew from his own experience that power, absolute power, was far more interesting and a far stronger opiate.

According to the signals given to him by the police cordons, the crowd wished to hide in the western part of the polis, which was well fortified and formed what was called a second protective ring that the ordinary citizens of the polis never had access to. It was reserved for the senior nomenklatura apparatus of the rulers. Gordon was in the third ring, in the dungeons of a heavily fortified skyscraper, more than forty meters deep.

'After all, communicating with the voters can sometimes be difficult,' he smiled.

In five minutes, the security conference, of which he was chairman, was about to begin. The apparent calm of the polis was also his idea, because he needed some time to transfer some of his vast holdings to the secret tunnel branches beneath his own skyscraper. The illusion that the army was the absolute guarantor of security was also his idea. The eventual Armageddon could kill some of the people who disagreed with his way of governing. And that would only strengthen his power.

‘One bullet, two birds,’ he scratched himself and left his office under the watchful eye of the guards. ‘Playing my cards right will give me an enormous political advantage, even without an election.’

Sir, the police cordons are broken. They're coming towards us. - Trumps one of the military under his direct command.

With wonderfully acted skill, Elmbaum expressed alarm. Even concern. It was fair to say that his nature as a political chameleon was able to build and maintain a diversity of characters that even sometimes argued with each other, came into conflict, but always complemented each other and never got in each other's way in the true sense of the word. Such a long political career was by no means a matter of chance. He was simply a natural talent.

- Mobilize as you must ghost wars, but stop them, he calmly ordered.

- ’But, sir, they are not one of ours. You want us to fight mercenaries?,’ the military man tried to object.

- Do as you're told. No one will hold you to account. Just round them up. We have quite a few captured soldiers. They know what discipline means.

Elmbaum was a fine psychologist and knew that it was far preferable to treating them as deserters to the possibility of treating them as prisoners and as mercenaries. He'd given anyone who'd shown their loyalty to him the opportunity to rise quickly in the hierarchy. Regardless of his past. He'd quickly elevate them, and even more quickly have them stuck in the mud he'd pulled them out of earlier.

Incidentally, too many problems were created precisely by the muddled minds of some of them. They had to realize that they held their fate in their own hands. That was Gordon's methodology, and it usually proved to be a winning one.

- 'Get them any equipment they need,' his voice boomed as he left.

Gordon entered through the solid mahogany door into a sitting room. A sitting that could last until tomorrow even. He had to keep an eye on the details. As well as his nerves!

He had a tougher battle ahead of him for the confidence of the Continental Congressmen, the second governing body after the War Council. Without them, he would not be able to launch a direct attack where he most desired. In the heart of the city. His plan was to wreak havoc and manage to move out before it was too late.

Too bad he couldn't miss the gathering.

 

^^^

Elmbaum definitely knew how to wage political warfare and also negotiate. The problem was that even a governor needed the so-called ‘threads of power’ to be the basis of his rule. He didn't like that at all, but as a well-trained manager, he was well aware of the inevitability of that fact. And he accepted it. No, actually, he didn't accept it, but he had learned to pretend to be happy! So what! Management could have some 'prickly sides'. Apparently his idea of 'complete happiness', which he associated with 'complete power' and nothing else, was not possible.

Around the negotiating table were all the old acquaintances and thugs who had a strong interest especially in the interron fuel, which was the only resource that really mattered, with the martial law thus created. Even Kevlarite was losing its value for a reason in a war of nerves such as they were planning to play out.

Gene Paley stood behind one end of it, which was a combination of composite elements and holographic decorations. His faithful adjutant Isongdar was also in the corner at a respectful distance. He wasn't very enthusiastic himself, and definitely felt out of place, even though he was the first advisor to such an important man as the Governor. But he would be one of the links in Elmbaum's plan to contact the General. Still, the conflict of interest was obvious, but only to those present here. Isongdar was not an official advisor, but he was an adjutant to a full staff.

The Intendant members were on the other side of the table, Elmbaum himself on the third. This was the basic idea of the trinity of powers - political, military and administrative and operational. Through deft moves, Elmbaum had managed to keep his skin in the political arena and secure obedient pawns. Few would have guessed that the eco-protests were his doing. It was hard to get a dozen students to shout for his cause, but he found them. All the others who had steady jobs and skills had moved out or were living in less accessible areas of the polis. But he still needed some opponents. And since there were virtually none, he'd have to create and model them himself. He would even train them to argue and fight with him. Or perhaps more accurately for him and his interests. He would have helped them ‘vegetate’ and survive almost forever in a perfect cycle. By ‘protecting’ them, he was actually protecting himself. Things were quite connected, as squishy as it seemed. He was just following his own path. He had no contempt for Paley or the members of the Intendant, nor did he consider them beneath him, but he was all too determined to do everything in his power but not become theirs. It was just that the situation as it was was changing his plans a little.

'Nothing will distract me.,' he mentally told himself. 'They can talk all they want, and try all sorts of means. I know all their numbers, and they know mine, but I read their minds completely, and they don't read mine completely.'

Given the extreme conditions, there was little preamble or unnecessary emotional verbiage. These were business men and they were deciding important business matters.

Paley started first. He thought he had prepared himself well and would defend his cause to the end.

- The situation was serious. The partial breaking of the second fortified ring speaks to the fact that the third is coming next, and then we are.

- 'There is no room for panic, Gene,' the Chairman of the Intendant addressed him directly. 'Your people will do their job properly. I'm confident.'

- 'Do you have anything to object to, Governor Elmbaum? Or do you have a suggestion to make?,' the voice turned to the Governor without circumlocution.

Elmbaum had assumed a somewhat good-natured and calm expression, his gaze fixed as if on nothing. He stood thus for about two or three seconds.

- 'Gentlemen,' he began quite businesslike, 'it seems to me that no one here realizes that this has long since become a war for existence, and not one of ideals and so on. The conflict has long since been over that interron fuel. Nor is it about the guarrons ...'

- 'Make yourself clear,' Isongdar almost snarled, drawn out in typical soldierly fashion. He was starting to turn pale, but he was still trying to control himself. Gene Paley's dignity prevented him from speaking directly, so his adjutant was the convenient pawn for that purpose.

- 'All I'm saying is, if these people want to get to us, let them,' the governor continued calmly, 'What's the big deal?'

Although he had seen a lot on the battlefield, Gene Pailey gave him a somewhat peculiar look.

- 'Why did you order us to do the opposite just a few hours ago?,' he stammered, filled with some resentment. 'The entire polis is now in blood and filth!'

- 'Because a few hours ago the situation was different,' Elmbaum was extremely laconic.

- 'Excuse me, Gordon,' called Congressman Chris Zonrethis, 'don't you have some better solution or super evacuation plan?'

He was a dignified man over forty-five. And he hadn't done anything else outside of politics.

- 'No, I have something better,' Elmbaum nodded meaningfully.

- 'And what's your brilliant idea?,' Zonrethis asked impatiently.

- 'See the transition between the second and third rings?,' continued Gordon, pointing to one of the holographic images hovering in the air above the conference table. 'There, your fighters,' he turned, but without looking directly at Paley, who was frowning slightly, primarily because he didn't grasp the point of the Governor's whole game, 'will make a controlled micro-blast out of the embedded Esonium blanks of the combat detonators. When the human wave passes that track, they'll fall into the open crater!'

- 'Impossible,' Paley almost shouted, 'so you want to open a crater to the underground geothermal vent we use to power this part of the polis! This is pure madness!'

- 'Listen to me carefully,' Elmbaum said quietly. 'I haven't been in this position for five terms just now. This is our only chance to survive!'

- 'How long will it take for this wave to wash over us?,' called Chris Zonrethis again.

- 'No more than three hours. At most four ...,' added Isongdar, who was well informed by his intelligence.

- 'If the Ghost Warriors squeeze by then,' Gordon added with a touch of irony, 'we can't rely on them alone.'

- 'And the proton missile launchers?,' called Admiral Paley. ’Still, they're an option too.’

- 'No, this mass of men must be buried once and for all,' Paley stretched his grin wryly. 'Otherwise we'll all have our heads blown off by the uncontrolled perimeter of the explosions. The platforms