God's Dogs
Chapter 13

Part 2: Five Years Later

Bureaucracy is a giant mechanism operated by pygmies.

Honore de Balzac

The League of Worlds was successful because of its Libertarian philosophical roots. It didn’t care what an individual world chose for its form of government. It didn’t care how they organized their economies, or their social structures, or their long-term goals. All the League cared about – indeed, the only laws on the books – were about force and fraud. You couldn’t engage in either to advance an agenda and be compliant with the League rules for membership.

This created an economic environment that fostered trade, research and development, and allowed social contracts not seen before. This permissive policy allowed for expansion of human creativity that was unique in human history.

It came about in the aftermath of the Corporate Wars. As human space took on the task of rebuilding, the Libertarian proponents, always on the fringe, stepped into the power vacuum and convinced the disparate worlds that this philosophy of governance was the only one that could defend and support their inherent diversity.

Dictators, warlords, pirates, organized crime syndicates, and any organization grounded in force and/or fraud would be out of business if a libertarian confederacy of worlds connected all human space. That idea was okay with the general population. Keeping those that had preyed on them for millennia out of business was a good thing, and the League became the tool to accomplish it.

Even so, bureaucracies have their own identifiable cycle: revolution, a period of creativity, finding a new direction, delegating responsibility to make the new plan work, and coordination among the many moving parts. Or another way of saying it, the movement is from freedom to control to red tape to a new revolution.

The real threat of the Empire was forcing the League into a revolutionary place, which if it was to succeed with the League intact, meant finding a way for the League to collaborate in a more meaningful way with the member worlds. In human history, this final stage of bureaucracy – empowering those a bureaucracy ruled – had yet to be achieved. The historical norm was that one or more departments took the unilateral action they thought was needed to deal with the crisis at hand. In the current situation, those that knew of the threat of the Empire, once they felt they couldn’t convince the rest of the League to take it seriously, would find a way to unilaterally meet the threat. This would result in the eventual collapse of the entire bureaucracy through a process similar to a coup d’etat. Then the bureaucratic life-cycle would began again. Julius Caesar was the historical precedent. He abolished the Senate in favor of Empire.

The League, whether the entrenched bureaucrats knew it or not, was in a revolutionary stage – a death-rebirth process it would have to survive if League space was to overcome the Empire’s challenge. To keep itself intact, it would need to evolve in a way that member worlds, ideally through their senators, found the means of a grander collaboration than had been known before.

At the heart of the now building controversy was the Fleet’s insistence to employ Coyote teams. Since the League’s leadership was a civilian Senate overseeing the Space Navy, a police force (the Marshal’s Office), a military force (the Marines), and a judiciary (Supreme Court), the dispute was primarily political rather than operational – policy rather than pragmatism.

Senator Jonathan Smythe-Wilson, from the world of Brighton, was the spokesman for those opposed to the resolution that became known as the Penglai Exception. Senator Leah Morrison, from the world of Amazonia, was in favor.

They argued their points-of-view on the Senate floor. The Senate included senators from the 396 human worlds and five alien worlds. Attendance was in person or by proxy delegates. The Senate hall was a circular amphitheater with the Speaker at its center. Aides attended each Senator, and the hall was a busy, bustling place.

Leah Morrison had the floor. She was a matronly looking woman. Flowing black hair to her shoulders, piercing blue eyes in a sturdy, square face, she wore a draping white tunic with a clasp at the right shoulder.

“Honored colleagues, I have a prepared statement I’m looking at. It was merely a canned agreement with this body’s wisdom to do what is mandatory for our survival. I hadn’t considered we would hesitate to do what is so obviously necessary.”

She paused to let that sink in. When it did, there was the expected uproar from Smythe-Wilson’s supporters.

It wasn’t entirely true she hadn’t foreseen their opposition. Stupid, in her view, knew no bounds.

“I see the opposition is still smug in its ignorance to the facts before us. So I will muddle through with the few notes I’ve made to hopefully refute the flawed strategy they are proposing.”

The uproar grew and the Speaker called for order.

Morrison continued, “Our strategists tell us we are still playing catch-up with the Empire. The reactive nature of our response has blunted the Empire’s encroachment, and we seem to have achieved a stalemate. However, we cannot mount an offensive in the short term.

“Apparently, the Empire scientists have solved the problem of FTL communication, which gives them both a strategic and a tactical advantage. To our credit, that advantage hasn’t translated into real gains. Our fleet men and women have met every challenge and either prevailed or forced a draw.”

She paused to collect her thoughts. It was true she hadn’t prepared this address, but the opposition needed to be confronted now. She let the feeling of the rightness of her cause fill her entire being and grounded it by visualizing the energy coursing through her to the planet below and then filling her with qi. She breathed in, concentrating the energy in her body until she felt over-full. Then she spoke — the energy empowering her words.

“Penglai is a small, mostly rural Buddhist world. They primarily export a decent wine and llamas, for goddess’ sake.”

There were chuckles throughout the chamber.

“They train warriors. That is true, but their warrior path is also a spiritual discipline. They do not seek to dominate. They do not seek to conquer. They only seek to protect.”

She paused again. That thought had to penetrate. Morrison knew there were those who would not abuse power was a foreign concept to many of the senators, especially Smythe-Wilson’s crowd, but this was the crux of the matter.

“Amazonia is not in the same Sector with Penglai. We are 800 light years from each other. Still, we share a similar value system. We share a similar philosophy. We share a similar training program for our men and women who are called to protect those who need protection.”

Leah smiled as she paused this time. Most people didn’t want to believe they needed protection. The idea of it distracted them from what they considered important – their careers, their families, their long-term goals. In the past, people just paid a military or police force to worry about protection, which caused its own problems. The League was in that category, to be sure, but its mandate was limited to prevent the typical abuse of power that the strong exercised over the weak. As a result, the people carried an instinctual fear of the strong. Knowing restrictions existed to outlaw abuses of power didn’t cancel that fear. Emotion had a habit of trumping reason. The attempts to outlaw weapons, for example, or institute gun control were examples of that fear-driven agenda. Weapons were extensions of human action and not problems in and of themselves.

What the people didn't seem to appreciate, as it was outside their experience, was the fact that there were those who freely chose to protect the weak. Those strong people were not a threat. Morrison knew this because she was a retired general in Amazonia’s militia.

“What do protectors do once the job is done?” she asked in a looming voice. Then she adopted a more sardonic tone. “Well, the loyal opposition seems to think they would take over everything – the League, the Empire, and eventually the whole galaxy.

“Think it through, my colleagues. Why would the simple world of Penglai want to take on that kind of bureaucratic nightmare? Well, they wouldn’t. They would be content, I’m sure, to return to the simple life they have made for themselves. It is we who would be stuck with the defeated Empire. I think we can handle that task, but we must first defeat the Empire!”

The floor erupted again in spontaneous debate. The Speaker let it go for a while before he called for order.

Then he said, “You have two minutes to finish up, Senator Morrison.”

“Thank you, Mister Speaker. I will conclude with a call to pass the resolution to negotiate with Penglai, or any other world, mine included, to hasten our victory over the Empire. Amazonia relinquishes the floor.”

Master Chin of Penglai clapped his appreciation for Senator Morrison’s argument. The ancient master was sitting in the booth with the Penglai delegation. He smiled at the Penglai ambassador, Kim Than and said, “She is good. I must meet her.”

Than turned to an aide, who nodded and busied himself with a computer tablet. After a few minutes, he said, “I’ve scheduled an appointment for tomorrow morning.”

Chin smiled. “Splendid.”

On the floor, the debate continued, but Chin could feel the energy had shifted. The vote would be in favor of the Penglai Exception. Penglai would gain an exception from the prohibition on nationalist forces formally serving with League forces.

The next morning, Master Chin arrived alone at the Amazonian Embassy. It was located aboard a massive space station that housed the League bureaucracy. The space station orbited Central, which was the primary support world for the League’s various endeavors. Also circling Central were shipyards, factories, and the other industries to build and maintain the fleet. Since the beginning of the war, other worlds hosted similar factories and shipyards, as well as recruit training facilities for both spacers and marines.

The Amazonian Embassy was along a wide promenade known as embassy row. All the embassies were located here, along with hotels, restaurants, entertainment centers, and upscale shopping malls.

Master Chin pressed his hand to the pad next to the ornate door. A female marine in a brown-accented blue uniform admitted him.

“I am Chin from Penglai. I have an appointment with Senator Morrison.”

“Of course, sir,” the marine said. “Please follow me.”

She escorted him through a spacious entry hall to an elevator. On the second floor, they entered a well-appointed sitting room. It was lined with bookcases, potted plants, and a cozy seating arrangement of sofas and end tables.

“She’ll be right with you,” the marine said, somewhat breathless.

Chin smiled at the young woman, who was clearly struggling to keep her cool. “I’m sure she will be. You need to breathe from your belly or you’ll pass out.”

The woman’s face flushed. “I’m sorry. It’s such an honor to meet a Coyote.”

“No need for apology. You have done well. Breathe and remember we are all striving for the Light together.”

“Yes, sir,” she bowed her head and took deep breaths.

Senator Morrison strode into the room and caught the tension. “Anything wrong, corporal?”

“No ma’am. Can I get you anything?”

“We’re good,” she replied. “Unless Master Chin would like something.”

“I’m good,” Chin smiled.

The corporal left, a bit more relaxed than before.

Leah wore a dark blue tunic that draped her six-foot form in graceful lines. She sat across from Chin.

“I’m intrigued by your request for a meeting. You’re not part of Penglai’s diplomatic team.”

“I oversee the Coyote program.”

Leah sat back and brought her hands to her thighs. “I see. Do you feel comfortable telling me? No information is available about the structure of the Coyote program.”

Chin laughed. “No one asked. No one who had a legitimate need to know, at any rate.”

“And I do?”

“Most assuredly, Ambassador.”

She nodded, charting her way through the surprises. Then she took a breath and said, “I’m honored to meet you. What do you want to discuss?”

“We will need more Coyote teams than we can field. I think we would like to recruit from your people.”

Taken aback once again, Leah merely arched her eyebrows.

“You explore the same realms of Spirit that we do,” Chin elaborated. “Indeed, the corporal sensed who I was. And yesterday you manipulated the qi-flow on the Senate floor in a masterful way.”

“Awen,” she muttered. “We call it Awen, the breath of the Mothers.”

“It goes by many names.”

Leah focused on Chin. “I’m wondering how we could make something like that work.”

“I’ll send a team to consult with your military staff. Who knows? Maybe we will both learn from the experience.”

Leah nodded again. “I’ll set it up.”

“Thank you,” Chin said and rose. “Please include the corporal. She has Coyote potential.”

Leah grinned. “She’s my niece.”

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