Some of his Republican guards stood outside the building where the fundraiser was taking place, holding chainsaws. The Olmarr Republic must have truly detested trees.
I gave them a small nod as I moved to go past them.
“Invitation?” they asked, with sour expressions.
“I’m Hank,” I said, blinking. As if I was some unknown kid applying for a job.
“Invitation only,” another guard said, walking closer.
They held their chainsaws ready and I knew they flipped on with just a press of a button. But they were deluding themselves if they thought I remotely cared. I could probably shove those weapons in my mouth and it wouldn’t do much except clean my teeth.
“I’m Hank,” I tried to explain again. “I’m in your big book. Supreme Kommilaire. I… destroyed—or helped destroy—the Colmarian Confederation.”
“You’re name isn’t on the list,” one guard sneered, without looking at any list.
“I’m pretty sure it is. It’s listed under ‘People Who Can Kill You,’” I said.
I stomped ahead and they had to move.
Inside there was a front desk and reception where the pleasantly plump ladies scowled and said they didn’t have a name tag for me and that the refreshments were for guests only.
Just for that I took two cups of punch and downed them. Though it didn’t have the impact I hoped since the cups were flimsy and I spilled most of the punch on my hands and vest.
Hadn’t I been some huge hero to the Olmarr Republic? Did they rewrite their big book recently? This was what happened when you didn’t have a publicist. One bad court case and you got second billing.
There was a large auditorium and it was jammed with people sitting knee-to-knee. I couldn’t make out who was in front talking because there was a lot of smoke in the room and people were applauding.
A guard by the door leaned into me and whispered.
“Hey, you’re not supposed to be in here.”
I leaned back.
“Hey, shut up.”
The whole sides of the auditorium were lined with security guards and they were all shifting around now that I’d come in. I wasn’t exactly inconspicuous, I blocked the entire door. If there was a fire, all these people would die if I just stood here. That would teach them for denying me refreshments.
But I couldn’t actually see a way to move forward even if I wanted to. The room was packed to capacity, with only a thin row down the middle and along the walls available to walk. I couldn’t fit down either even if I walked sideways. Not without knocking over a lot of people.
However, I wasn’t going to turn around and sit in the hall waiting like some loser who didn’t have better things to do. By blocking the door they had to at least acknowledge I was here. Peush would talk to me eventually. If he ever wanted to get out.
I leaned against the doorframe while I waited.
It was standard meeting stuff. Talking about how good the people were for coming, how good the staff was, how good everyone was for everything.
Finally, Peush was introduced and he took the stand at the podium. I missed what his title was as I hadn’t been listening. But his designation wasn’t impressive. You tend to snap-to when someone says something like “Grand Lord of Galaxies,” but it was some minor bureaucratic label. It was only when I heard Peush’s name that I woke up.
Everyone applauded vigorously.
“The Republic dawns,” he began.
“Ever always,” the crowd answered with one voice.
That was kind of creepy. How had I let this organization sneak up and not really recognize it? When you can get hundreds of people to sit quietly, applaud, wear name tags, and answer mantras, they were a real thing.
The Sublime Order of Transcendence was organized and had a lot of members, but they were toga-toting wackos. The mere fact they were conned by Hobardi’s phony religion proved they weren’t a great threat and were just looking for some half-baked cause.
But these were real people. I could see merchants and businessmen, gang members, dock workers, couriers, Garm’s employees, just about every walk of life. I scanned for any of my Kommilaire but none were in uniform at least.
“I would like to thank Marshelette for the excellent dinner she served. It’s not easy feeding this many people,” Peush smiled.
The audience applauded a bashful woman off to the side and I found myself giving a few claps. Damn, I missed the food.
“The enemy is still present,” Peush said ominously.
The crowd nodded and muttered.
“The Republic is beset by those who would bring us down for selfish reasons. But they are not the Republic, we are the Republic.”
More agreement.
“The Totki are a pestilential filth that is sapping our native strength.”
No surprise there. They didn’t get along so well.
“The city, the galaxy, is filled with traitors and vermin, mutants and aliens. They are not us and we are not them. They need to go back where they came from. We cannot ever achieve peace with coexistence. It hasn’t happened in tens of thousands of years and every time we try, we poison ourselves. I, for one, am sick of poison. I am sick of killing my children so that the children of beasts might be comfortable.”
Wow. That got ugly fast. But no one was shocked, they applauded.
“The Republic dawns!” He said again.
“Ever always,” they answered.
“There are Gandrine and Keilvin Kamigans and Dredel Led on this station. Dredel Led! Who caused us to begin mutating our own people during the Colmarian Confederation. Why are we consorting with these species that despise us? Why do we welcome them? We should welcome them to leave.”
Vigorous applause.
I had really underestimated Peush. He made the xenophobic Totki look like a take-all-customers prostitute.
“It will require generations to return to purity, but with time, we will govern ourselves. We will not have to compromise for a Boranjame and his countless slaves or a Therezian towering over us.”
Good luck getting rid of Wallow, I thought.
“The government seeks to take our rights. Take our property. It fears us because it doesn’t understand us. Doesn’t understand how great the Republic was and can be again. The Republic dawns.”
“Ever always.”
“The Second Republic will be established once we have severed our links to the corrupting influence of the rest of the galaxy. The Portals must be destroyed.”
I stopped leaning against the doorframe and if I had been drinking punch, I would have spit it out. Was he serious? Destroy the Portals? That would completely isolate all the regions that weren’t contiguous. It would be the Dark Ages that Delovoa had spoken about. And Peush was recommending doing it on purpose.
“We should have the right to choose our own path in life, the right to be free as our forefathers were. We cannot do that the way things currently stand. Look,” he said, “there is the heavy, mutant hand of the government. It has been sent to spy on us.”
Every person turned around to see where Peush was pointing.
At me, of course.
“Uh, Republic rising,” I said, pointing both my index fingers at the crowd in the dead silence. But no one seemed to find it comforting or amusing.
I wasn’t sure if it was the lack of amplified speaking that let me hear it or whether it just started, but the unmistakable sounds of chainsaws and gunfire came to me from outside.
I turned around and left that pleasant group of people to see if my Kommilaire had similarly been refused refreshments and gone on a shooting spree.