“They had experience in the resistance,” Frida said, coldly. “Or doesn’t that count?”
“No,” I said. “As I said, the problems are different. Your resistance didn’t even come close to pushing the UN off your planet. You barely managed to annoy them; they certainly never committed millions of troops to holding you down. You won your war when Admiral Walker” — my close personal friend, I carefully didn’t add — “took the UN out of commission. As far as I’m concerned, your resistance men haven’t seen the elephant.”
That wasn’t the only problem. From what little we’d been able to learn, the real resistance men had come from the mountains, where they could fight an underground war against the UN on their own terrain. The miners had supported them and, from time to time, protected them. The cities had been too firmly under the UN’s thumb to generate much resistance, although there had been some spectacular attacks. The Generals in command of the war, however, had known that they were not going to lose it. They’d only withdrawn when the UN collapsed.
And I was sure that the officers the Government had selected had been selected for their political reliability. I wouldn’t have put it past Frida to try to stack the deck in favour of people she knew and trusted, delivering the army I’d built into the hands of the Progressives. It probably wouldn’t work out perfectly — soldiers are not dumb animals, no matter what the UN says — but if they got their hooks in deep enough, it might not matter. The militia wouldn’t be able to mount a defence.
“I see,” Frida said. She leaned closer, stroking her chin. “May we be frank with one another, Andrew?”
The use of my first name only heightened my suspicions, but I smiled. “Of course, Frida,” I said, with false cheer. “What do you wish to tell me?”
“The Progressive Party currently holds eight seats in the Council,” Frida said, with the air of a woman making a speech. “As you are no doubt aware, we will almost certainly win the next election and with it the government. We want to know where you will stand when we take power.”
I frowned, trying to compose a reply. “I know little about how your government works,” I said, stalling for time. “How can you be sure of victory?”
Frida smiled. “There are twenty-one districts on the planet and each of them elects one councillor,” she explained, with the air of someone who enjoyed lecturing. She probably told her subordinates the same to keep them working towards their goal. “There are, therefore, twenty-one seats on the Council. The President is directly appointed by majority vote and serves as the Head of State. He also has vast influence over the Council and may, if his party holds most of the seats, rule without effective opposition.”
It sounded oddly primitive for a developed world, but I’d seen worse. “I see,” I said. “And you hold eight of those seats? That’s not a majority.”
“No,” Frida agreed. “The Liberty Party holds four, the Communists hold one, the Independence Party holds one and the Conservatives hold seven. In the next election, assuming that the polls are accurate, the Liberty Party will lose at least two of its seats and probably crease to exist as a competitive political party. The Communists support us if pushed. The Conservatives have no appeal to those living in the cities. I suspect that we will wind up with ten to twelve seats; an absolute majority.”
I see,” I said, finally. “And you want to know where I stand?”
Frida nodded. “At the moment, you’re training the army,” she said. “That makes you one of the most powerful people on the planet, unless you piss Fleet off and they send in the Marines to remove you.”
“True,” I agreed, carefully. My objective was to stabilise the planet, but if Frida was right and the Progressives did win the next election decisively, the planet would very rapidly become unstable. “If I may be equally frank with you” — she nodded — “my men and I work for the people who pay us.”
“Mercenaries,” Frida said. She made it sound like a curse. “And you have no loyalty to anyone?”
“Each other,” I said. I couldn’t blame her for her opinion of mercenaries. I didn’t regard most of them very highly myself. “Oh, we won’t switch sides on you if someone offers us a higher price; our contract specifically precludes that, unless you refuse to pay us. You have our services as long as you meet your obligations.”
“I see,” Frida said. Her smile was very cold and calculating. “And then you would support us if we became the planetary government?”
“As long as you pay us,” I confirmed, untruthfully. I would have to give some thought to the matter. The planetary government was unstable, but if one party gained an advantage the other parties would see no choice, but open rebellion. Civil war would break out and spread rapidly. “I might add, however, that I do not tolerate political interference with my men.”
“Of course,” Frida said, having filed me away under ‘easily bought.’ “What do you have to say about the complaints from the police department?”
“Complaints?” I asked, as innocently as I could. “There have been complaints?”
“Your men have been involved in fights,” Frida said, coldly. “Those fights have caused considerable damage and injuries to civilians.”
I matched her tone. “My men, while drinking in bars on leave, have been attacked by street toughs, Communists and protesters,” I said, firmly. “They have authority to defend themselves if attacked. So far, I don’t think anyone’s been killed, but everyone who got hurt thoroughly deserved it.”
“And the demands for compensation?”
I looked into her blue eyes. “They started fights with my men,” I said. “If they survived the experience, they should count themselves lucky and leave it at that. I am not in the habit of rewarding people for accidents and injuries caused by their own stupidity. I note that no one, not even the Communists, have attempted to bring my men up on charges.”
“No,” Frida agreed. “It was feared that you might react badly.”
“Or that my men might prove themselves innocent?” I asked. “Why don’t you send those youths out to work on farms, or something else useful? There’s plenty of land on this planet for expansion. They don’t have to swagger around the city all day, mugging civilians and living off the proceeds.”
“We can’t send them out to the farms,” Frida protested. “They wouldn’t have the slightest idea what to do?”
“Then teach them,” I suggested, knowing that it was useless. The Progressives drew much of their support from the street gangs — those who depended on government largess — and sending them out to farm would deprive them of some of their strength. I made a mental note to look into the possibility of opening new farms, but put it aside for the moment. There would be time enough for that later.
“Besides, the farmers wouldn’t accept them,” Frida added. “We sent experts to advise the farmers on how to grow their crops and the farmers laughed at them. They even drove them away with guns! We can barely take a census, let alone anything else.”
“I’m sure they did,” I murmured. I’d seen the pattern before, but Earth remained the poster child for the end results of such disastrous policies. “It worked so well for Earth…”
“It did,” Frida agreed. “The people there live in a paradise where their every need is catered for by the government.”
I had to bite my cheek to prevent a laugh from bursting out. The hell of it was that she believed it. I doubted that anyone on the planet knew about Earth’s real condition, but they’d all seen the UN propaganda broadcasts, with their claims about how Earth was a paradise and how the Colonies could be a paradise too, if they stopped resisting and accepted that the UN knew what was best for them. Earth had looted most of the Colonies and it hadn’t been enough to keep the planet afloat. I didn’t want to get involved in Earth’s ongoing civil war, but the death toll had already passed the billion-death mark.