Xenophon glanced about, suddenly feeling vulnerable in the street. It looked safe enough, but he had heard rumours of resistance groups looking to restore democracy. Of course, there was no chance of removing the Laconians by force. They were too strong and too well equipped. His way of assisting the Thirty was the quickest and safest way, but he knew deep down that the average citizen would not see it that way. He thought back to one of Earth’s ancient leaders whom he admired greatly, the British Prime Minister, Winston Churchill.
What was it he said? Oh yes, I remember. It was something like the best argument against democracy is a five-minute conversation with the average voter. He almost laughed out loud at the wit and truth of it.
In the distance the plainclothes security men moved into position, and one seemed to be reaching down to something inside his jacket. He looked back at the man, but his interest seemed to already waning, as though he thought he had made a mistake. Even so, the security men looked like they were about to draw firearms.
I can stop this.
He took a deep breath, moved one step closer to the stranger and into the line of sight of his guards. It was a risk, but he didn’t want the blood of his own citizens on his hands.
“Yes, I am Xenophon.”
The man nodded, and a wry smile appeared on his face.
“I thought as much, you spoke after the surrender. You spoke out against violence during the occupation by the Laconians. Difficult decision.”
Xenophon nodded, but said no more. He was already starting to have doubts about that day, but it would make little difference now.
“Any way,” the old man continued, “ I just wanted to say thank you for not running with the herd. I know most people here wouldn’t say that. I’m not most people, though. From one old soldier, I can tell you the Laconians won’t just go away because we throw a few rocks at them. They are a hard people, and they are not easily beaten. It was a mistake to go to war with them, but time will work against them. They are always vulnerable at home and they lack numbers. They don’t want to be here, just as much as we don’t want them.”
Xenophon was intrigued. It was unusual to come across any citizen who had even the slightest inclination as to what was going on in the real world of politics.
“Thank you, friend. Indeed, that’s why I voted against going to war.”
“Really? Well, you were in the minority, then,” laughed the man.
“You said, fought them? The Laconians, I mean,” asked Xenophon, now genuinely interested. There were fewer and fewer veterans of the old wars, and in his experience, they had much to offer in terms of wisdom and general anecdotes.
“Yes, I was part of the Armada that defended our planet in the Archidamian War, right at the start of the Civil War. They came in strong that time, but we smashed them in orbit. Back then our fleet was invulnerable. We had double the ships and were faster, more agile and better armed. Those were the days when Alliance ships ruled the space lanes, and there was peace.”
Xenophon nodded, recognising the battle from his teachings by Kratez.
“My mentor, Kratez, fought at that battle also. He said it was an example of how careful judgement and a steady hand could change the future,” he explained.
“That is true. Kratez, did you say?”
Xenophon turned his head slightly, intrigued that the man seemed interested in his old mentor.
“Indeed, he is a good friend of mine.”
“Fascinating. Yes, I knew him. Actually, he was the XO of my ship. As for timing and judgement, he was all hell and high-water back in the day. Well, when you see him again, let him know Critios says hello.”
Xenophon nodded politely.
“I will. I must apologise, though, I have to return to the civic centre.”
The old man nodded in acknowledgement and stepped aside to let him pass.
“I understand. Watch your back, young Xenophon. I know your heart is in the right place, but most here will see you as one of the anti-democrats. You know what the mob does to enemies of democracy.”
Xenophon nodded and moved past the old man. He knew full well what the mob would do, and it had little to do with law or democracy.
If democracy returns, then at the very least I’ll face exile at a public vote.
He shook his head at the thought of being kicked out of his home. Even so, he knew he had saved many lived already by intervening rather than letting Laconian forces carry out their duties in the city. His local security forces were infinitely preferable to heavy infantry on the streets, at least he hoped they were.
He moved down the hill and towards the heart of the city, the oldest and most significant single location in the entire Alliance. As he moved closer, he could see the great stone structures of the old buildings, and the Ecclesia itself sticking up proudly. Although hardly ancient by the standard of Earth, it was still generations old and made from the finest marble in the Alliance.
A loud noise caught his attention. It was a column of three military transports. They moved in quickly from his right and made their way past the checkpoint and into the secure zone. The vehicles were tall and well armoured. Their six bulky wheels lifted them high off the ground and gave a good view of their ‘v’ shaped hulls. He recognised the configuration.
Laconian heavy infantry.
Once past, he continued on his walk and moved towards the outer perimeter of the safe area that was lightly guarded by members of the city security forces. At first glance the area seemed quiet, but he knew that the full might of the occupation forces were hidden discreetly from view. The men recognised him and waved him through, barely even stopping to check his face matched the authorised personnel on the site. Still, this was all low security, and it was more for show than actual protection.
What was all that activity on Laconia all about? Last time there was something like this was back in the early years of the war, and if my memory is correct, the entire planet had erupted into a deadly period of civil war. I’d better get the Ecclesia and fast!
He moved past a military checkpoint on the main artery road, and it was clear there had been some major changes. He was now past the low security zone, and already the permanent defences and weapon emplacements were becoming more obvious. Two anti-aircraft mounts scanned the sky, and machinegun emplacements covered the main road, protecting this part of the zone from a direct attack. The weapons were all Laconian and looked heavier, more powerful and in their own way, much cruder than the equipment he was used to seeing. He moved further until he reached a series of concrete barriers that blocked access to the old Alliance public buildings. A crude gateway had been erected and was guarded by a group of a dozen security contractors. Xenophon approached them and was quickly spotted.
“What’s your business?” asked the nearest. He was similar in height and build to Xenophon but wore a grey jumpsuit with flak jacket over the top. A dark visor that was part of his helmet covered the upper part of his head, including his mouth and eyes. In his hands, he carried a Laconian issue pulse rifle, their standard issue weapon, and a device that was capable of shredding a man, armour or even a vehicle with a single burst of fire.
“I have business with the Thirty,” replied Xenophon. He cocked his head slightly and looked back at the man.
“You’re local, aren’t you? I recognise the voice.”
The man looked at his comrades then back to Xenophon.
“Listen, buddy, I ask the questions around here. You got an appointment?”
“Of course. As I have already said, I have business with the Thirty. You are welcome to check with them if you want?”
The man looked dejected, almost fearful of the prospect of the Thirty. He nodded to one of his comrades who then brought out a thick case. It was made of what appeared to be dark green plastic but with a roughened surface, much like Kevlar armour. He lifted the lid to reveal a dual display. Xenophon tried not to make a noise at seeing something so antiquated. Nothing like this had been used in the Alliance for hundreds and hundreds of years, and even then it would have been considered obsolete by all but the most basic standards of the day.