Raising his voice, General Stephens continued. ‘We need a new strategy to fight the Chinese! We need to give our citizens the chance to defend their land, and we need to give our people hope that we can once again be a sovereign nation, free of this infection that splits our nation in two!’ Rapturous applause broke out and the general felt the waves of applause break over him. He looked back at Fletcher and Sarah, both smiling and clapping.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, we will be taking the fight to the Chinese, but not in the conventional way. We need a new strategy: our intention is to frustrate and sabotage their transportation lines so that the cost of excavating our land becomes so great that they realise it makes no economic sense to continue. We will strike at their Achilles heel — their efficiency. Make no mistake, though, this strategy will come at a cost. The Chinese will not take our actions lightly and they will make reprisals. We must all be prepared to accept this, or there is no point continuing.’
Pausing, General Stephens looked around the room. He needed everyone in that room to understand the path Australia was headed down and, importantly, he needed them to want to travel it.
‘Such is the cost of freedom,’ he continued. ‘Australia must stand up and fight. On this we cannot compromise. We cannot back down and we cannot make the same mistakes again. Ladies and gentlemen, from today, we fight back on our own terms.’
Members from all parties stood and clapped, yelling their support. No speech in the Australian Parliament had ever elicited such a response. With that, General Stephens moved to exit the room, shaking hands with the parliamentarians as they swarmed in to surround him.
Once Stephens had managed to get out the door with Fletcher, Sarah and a security detail, Connor Adams took the floor. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he called above the chaos, ‘please be assured, we see no reason to change the ministerial operations that are currently in place, except, of course, the Department of Defence. General Stephens’ office will take control of this department immediately, but everyone else will stay in their respective roles. The general wishes to meet with each and every one of you in the coming days to discuss outstanding issues. Now, I’d be happy to take any questions.’ For the next two hours, Adams fielded questions from the ministers.
Hudson, meanwhile, walked back to his office to collect his things. Suddenly feeling light-headed, he stopped and put his elbow against the wall to steady himself. Overcome with emotion and shock, alone in the hallway, Hudson sobbed. Wiping the tears away quickly before anyone could see, he straightened himself, breathed deeply and focussed on getting to his office.
Once there, he slumped into his chair. He’d known from the moment the general stood on the floor in parliament that he had the backing of the cabinet. Stephens must have been lobbying for this for some time. His stomach twisted with a mixture of shame, humiliation and relief.
What would he do now? The only thing he could think of was to get out of Canberra, for good. Where would he go? Coastal Queensland? New Zealand? It was ironic, thought Hudson, how Australia, for the past 50 years had complained about the number of New Zealanders who migrated to Australia, ‘sapping the welfare system’ and ‘taking advantage of Australia’s superior economy’. The tables had well and truly been turned in the last few months, with hordes of wealthy Australians jumping ship and relocating there.
By the time Hudson reached his office he’d resolved to give himself some time to work out his next move. What was the rush? He was feeling strangely good, considering the embarrassment of what had just occurred. For the first time in months, James Hudson felt a glimmer of hope for himself. Free at last.
Later that day the news broke in the national media. The Australasian was first to get it online and the digital headlines were astonishing. Across every connected digital device, the news was entirely dedicated to the ‘Silent Coup’, as the media had dubbed it — describing how General Stephens had simply stood in front of Hudson and took control without uttering a word. The Australasian had a stock photo of General Stephens looking dignified and resolute. They called it the ‘stare that won a nation’. The Sydney Morning Herald was running with the ‘Silent Coup’ headline and had managed to get photos of Hudson walking back to his office looking lost in a world of his own.
The news headlines were instantly spread across the world. The ramifications of the general’s actions would be felt the world over. China, too, had the headlines on the front page of every news site in the country — much to their government’s dislike. In the old days there was no way this news would have been declared in such an honest and immediate way. The government newsroom would have put a positive spin on it and hailed it as a further victory to China.
Finn was at his parents’, sitting at the kitchen bench when the news came through of General Stephens’ coup. Listening intently to the report on the screen in the kitchen, Finn was immediately galvanised, his mind racing at the possibilities now that Australia was being led by the military. Finally, he thought, looking around the room in elation, we can start to actually do something.
Tom entered the room, obviously having heard the news in the other room. He looked worried.
‘How good is this? Finally we can start taking it to the Chinese,’ Finn said animatedly, oblivious to his dad’s state.
‘Son, you seem pretty damn keen to see more young Australians getting blown to bits out there in the desert. I don’t think this is good news at all. This is just a commitment to more dead Australians,’ replied Tom, leaning on the kitchen bench.
‘Come on, Dad. Are you serious? At some point we need to do something, otherwise do you really think they’ll stop at our mines in South Australia? Western Australia will be next, and then who knows? Maybe they’ll move in on the farmers so that they can feed their growing population. Then we’re all screwed. There’ll be no resources and no food!’ Finn felt the all-too-familiar sense of rising irritation at his father.
‘Look, all I’m saying is, hasn’t there been enough bloodshed? Do you really think that military tactics can beat an army like the Chinese?’
‘Well, Dad, if England had that attitude back in the 1930s imagine what the world would be like now.’
‘You can’t compare wars, Finn. This is a very different scenario—’
‘Is it?’ interrupted Finn, ‘Is it really, Dad? I don’t think it’s that different at all.’ He’d risen from his seat and was leaning tensely against the kitchen cupboards, arms folded defensively across his chest.
‘Finn, war was very different back then and the Nazis were a very different enemy, with different motivations. The Chinese are in Australia for one thing. Let them have it and let us get on with rebuilding Australia the right way. It’s pointless wasting energy and lives on fighting the Chinese.’ Tom was becoming more agitated by Finn’s naivety and ignorance.
‘Maybe, Dad, but at least we’ll be trying to do something, and it may even force the Chinese to take a diplomatic route to resolve the conflict,’ said Finn, desperately trying to convince his father.