Ballad of Demise Read online

  “Vivi said I’m supposed to help you get out of here, but this isn’t your whole party. Where’s the rest of them? Where’s Will?”

  Joseph looked her dead in the eye.

  “They’re going after the Chancellor, Ruby.”

  The woman felt her heart damn near stop. The rhythmic slosh of the water melted away as she absorbed what Halsey had just told her. Oh, god.

  Chapter 10- Special Guest

  October 23, 2065

  Night had come to Manhattan. The East River shimmered beautifully. A caravan of Humvees drove through the streets of the city, all protecting a single black limousine. On the sidewalks of every street millions of citizens were out to wave at the vehicles.

  Mari could see all of this from the giant monitor on the Times Tower in Time Square. The news report even offered an aerial view of the limousine, allowing people to see the UNR emblem on its roof.

  The great warrior stuck to the darker areas of the busy intersection, but with her hood on she felt safe. Besides, everyone’s eyes were set on the news coverage. It was one of the few nights where the plethora of ads were not the main attraction.

  She didn’t like leaving her sword back at the alley, but she wanted to see this. Who am I kidding? Even in her Hunter College jacket and jeans, she didn’t belong here with the civilians. What she really wanted was to get to the International Summit at that very moment. She reminded herself how foolish that would’ve been considering the impossible numbers against her. That was logic, and yet she maimed herself over and over with a single word: Coward.

  She didn’t have any particular plan other than wait for the proceedings to be over and assault the Chancellor then. Mari assumed maybe once the event was over security might lessen up. That won’t happen, and you know it. No matter how many UNR soldiers you take down, you will die long before getting remotely close to the Chancellor. It was Maurizo’s voice in her head now, mocking her. Then your body will be taken in by the government and there will be songs of joy ridiculing your defeat. It’s over. Just run away, you stupid girl. Mari resisted the suggestions. If this is my defeat she told herself, then let it be a glorious one.

  ***

  “We’re almost at First Avenue, sir,” Kearney reported. Seated beside him was Captain Howarth, and across from them was Chancellor Venloran and Janet.

  “It’s your big night,” she said as she kissed him on the cheek.

  “For all of us,” Venloran said to her.

  “A whole night of smiling at assholes,” the captain said, but then he saw Janet staring at him.

  “Pardon me.”

  The woman couldn’t stay mad at him and smiled.

  “Why didn’t you bring your girlfriend?” she asked.

  “We’ve only been out twice. Besides, I wouldn’t want to bore her with all the speeches.”

  “You know, he has an excellent point,” Kearney laughed.

  “Still, we’d like to meet her soon,” Venloran reminded Damien. “I don’t want to intrude, but it sounds like you plan on seeing her a whole lot more.”

  “Well…” the captain said nervously.

  “Oh, stop it, Carl. He’ll introduce her when he’s ready,” Janet intervened. She winked at Damien, who allowed himself to relax.

  “Fine, fine,” Venloran said.

  “I can promise you, sir,” Damien proclaimed, “you guys will like her. She’s smart, a hard worker, and not a bad taste in music either.”

  The Chancellor and his wife smiled.

  “As long as she makes you happy,” Venloran insisted.

  “Sir,” the driver said upfront, “we’re here.”

  Already they could see the cavalcade of reporters to greet them all. They could hear one thousand people chattering, some in languages they did not understand. This was their night. The UNR’s night.

  The limousine door was opened by none other than Aliss. He could not join his Chancellor inside, but he was adamant on seeing him in. With the door open, Venloran could see the ocean of journalists.

  “Let’s show our guests a great night.”

  ***

  Chancellor Venloran, accompanied by Kearney, Janet and Damien, entered the UN Assembly lobby. Only months ago, the gigantic room had been empty, a mausoleum. Now it was more packed than it’d ever been in its history. It was a sea of men in suits and women in alluring dresses, and all of them caught up in conversations either with each other or with ravenous journalists. The only ones who kept to themselves were the UNR soldiers positioned sporadically around the room.

  Venloran heard over a dozen different languages as he made his way through the crowd. Most other politicians either greeted him with a nod or simply got out of his way. Venloran had instructed the guards to keep their distance from him to not scare off the other leaders, but so far the tactic hadn’t worked.

  “How’s the guest check-in looking?” Venloran asked as he walked with his wife. Kearney and Howarth tagged along behind them.

  “Everyone’s made it,” said Kearney, checking his phone. “We can begin in thirty with no hassle.”

  “See? I told you no one would want to miss an event his big, Carl,” Janet replied. “Now all we have to do is endure all the speeches.”

  Howarth turned to his left where many of the guests had congregated. There was a series of tables along the wall, all draped in red cloth. Enough food and drinks to feed an entire army, I bet.

  “I still think you need to learn the art of dialing it down, Kearney,” Howarth teased. “I mean, on top of the buffet we have servers handing out drinks and even more food. How much of this stuff do you think will end up going to waste?”

  Kearney rolled his eyes. “Should I have ordered pizza, instead?”

  “Redford wouldn’t object with all the money we would’ve saved. Hell, I bet he has some charts and models all set to go.”

  “Dear, Kearney spent a lot of time getting this just right,” Janet cut in. “I think it’s all extremely well done.”

  “Thank you, Janet,” the assistant said with a big smirk.

  “Tonight, the rats of the city get to eat caviar in bulk,” the relentless Howarth jested.

  Even the Chancellor himself chuckled at that one. The group was almost at the big doors that led into the General Assembly Hall. The Head Director couldn’t wait. As the youngest member of the UNR Cabinet, he was also the only one who’d never been inside before. Ever since the International Summit’s conception, he’d done extensive research on this building. He knew all sorts of trivialities, from the seat count to the fact that years ago smoking had been allowed in the room. I bet some of these people miss having those convenient ashtrays, Damien mused. He didn’t want to give a speech or even talk with any of the other leaders. All he wanted was to walk into that room with his beloved and take in its enormity. His stomach churned at the thought of it. Perhaps I should have eaten.

  “Chancellor Venloran arrives at last. Seeing so many neglect the opportunity to speak with you is a tragedy in itself.”

  Venloran and the others all turned to see a man in a black suit and a purple tie. Unlike the other guests, he wore nothing indicating the country he was from. He did have a pin on his suit, a golden dove surrounded by an eight-pointed star.

  “Secretary General Vanzetti,” he said. The man did what all other shad been afraid to do and approached the Chancellor. He even opted for a handshake. Venloran accepted, and right after their shake he gestured to Janet.

  “This is my wife, Janet.”

  “Good evening, sir,” she said politely.

  Only then did Vanzetti bother looking in her direction. She had her chestnut brown hair in luscious curls and wore a ruby red strapless dress, but he looked on these details in short-lived interest.

  “A pleasure, ma’am.” Vanzetti looked at the two others with the Chancellor. “And the Head Director of the PSID and the Chancellor’s assistant himself, an honor to meet you both.”

  “Likewise, sir,” said Captain Howarth flatly.<
br />
  “Good evening to you,” Kearney said warmly. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

  “Honestly, I’ve been a bit bored. I’ve already met many of the people in this room once or twice before, but to finally meet the Chancellor Venloran is a first. In fact, I was hoping you’d indulge me one-on-one before we start.”

  “Certainly,” the Chancellor answered. He turned to the people he’d arrived with. “I’ll see you all shortly.”

  “Sure, dear, we’ll get something to eat in the meantime,” Janet agreed. Kearney and Howarth both bowed and then followed the woman to the tables.

  Vanzetti and Venloran walked away from the doors and over to the opposite side of the room, eventually settling on a corner where they were as alone as they could get. Soldiers eyed them constantly, but none got any closer.

  For tonight’s occasion, various pieces of art had been borrowed from museums and arranged on the walls of lobby. Of all the pieces, Vanzetti settled for one of Venloran’s favorites.

  “Kind of odd for you to have chosen this painting to be presented tonight,” commented Vanzetti, “but still more tasteful than most of the other decor.”

  Vanzetti was referring to the UNR banners that hung from multiple spots on the ceiling. The painting was Frederic Edwin Church’s Our Banner in the Sky. Depicted was what appeared to the untrained eye as a mere landscape at twilight, but both those men knew better. The red-orange clouds going across the sky were meant to be the Union flag. A branchless tree in the foreground served as a ‘flagpole.’

  “It was made after the Confederate’s attack on Fort Summer. I think it’s fitting,” Venloran said firmly.

  Vanzetti didn’t challenge the Chancellor’s sentiment. He took a gander at the crowd. Most were beginning to head to the next room, but he saw plenty of politicians and reporters alike gazing in their direction.

  “You deserve to bask in the limelight, Venloran. For all the UNR is known for, to see so many gathered here is really something. There is bound to be talk of a new era beginning, beautifully spun by the media who will call this night a beacon of hope. After all that babbling, by noon tomorrow there will be reports of the same old dreck. Citizens demanding solutions for the immigration crisis, calls to put a halt to a genocide in one part of the world or another and some CEO assuring the public he’s not a parasite.”

  “Did you come just for the photos and small talk? I expected more from the AEF Secretary General.”

  “Why would I recycle the same rubbish? There will be plenty of leaders who will do the usual like demand you pull your men out of a country and you’ll do as expected and decline. Real change is bad for business, but everyone plays the part of hoping for results by attending tonight. In that, you do not differ from the rest of us.”

  “You talk a good yarn, but you tend to gloss over much, Vanzetti. To compare yourself to me is laughable. When I became Chancellor, I did as I promised and sold all my holdings in companies that for years had unfettered sway in policy. That included my father’s shares that he’d invested in Primetech Industries. They would’ve been worth billions now, but I’m sure that comes as no surprise to you. Men like you denounce war while getting rich off it. No amount of charity will obscure the reality that your family has profited from every conflict since World War II. That is your legacy.”

  Venloran didn’t hide the contempt in his voice, but Vanzetti wasn’t fazed at all. Not a single bead of nervous sweat and not a single wrinkle on his brow. The Chancellor saw a smile snake its way onto the man’s face.

  “That’s why I almost admire you. When you want to make a statement, you don’t hold back. Those records were sealed at the behest of my grandfather before I was even born. He had a way with lawyers, and my father spared no expense on file encryption. The PSID has their claws into more than just the backs of their neighbors and families, I see.” Vanzetti leered in the face of his opponent’s scorn. “Information really is the most sought-after commodity. Between your espionage and brute force, you still think you can maintain your grasp on the world, but we both know that isn’t the case.”

  “Maybe the world is bigger than the UNR and the AEF,” Venloran interjected. “Don’t you think if we start acknowledging that, then real change is a possibility?”

  ‘“I follow but one thing in my life and that is the will to power,’ correct? At least that’s how Oswald quoted it in that biography of his. I’ll tell you what I think; it took a humiliating defeat for you to realize that every empire eventually reaches its peak and then it crumbles to pieces. Not all at once, either, but brick by brick. Your lies can only accomplish so much and now the cracks are beginning to show. Every time I see your precious Cabinet, it seems to get a little smaller. Surely, the mighty founders like Major Johnson and General Berenger didn’t have better plans on such a vital night, but who am I to speculate?”

  Vanzetti observed the seething rage in the Chancellor’s face. He took delight in the distinct vein that had appeared on his forehead. Oh, my! The Secretary General got in close, patting Venloran on the shoulder as if they were old friends.

  “I think I’ll head inside now. Do tell Mrs. Venloran that I found her dress a breath of fresh air. I’m sure she’s lovely in black.”

  The Chancellor remained in front of the painting. He tried desperately to calm his nerves, careful not to clench his fingers into a fist. Carl looked across the sea of people and saw Kearney, Damien, and his wife all staring his way. He could see the dismay in her face. She can see you’re upset. Pick yourself up. Venloran put on a smile and proceed to join them at the tables.

  Chapter 11- Clemency

  October 23, 2065-United Nations General Assembly Hall

  Ever since 1945, this room had served as the keystone of unity for the world. It was here where resolutions had once been debated by the leaders of the world. For the first time in two decades, people were seated in the room. The UN emblem still shone agelessly, those olive wreaths caressing the map of the word they all shared.

  Tonight, close to eighteen hundred people were in the gigantic room. It retained the features of old, down to its forest green carpet and wooden panels along the walls. Each delegate still used one earphone to listen to the speeches in their own native tongue and electronic signs identified each country. The leather desks and chairs had been restored, courtesy of Venloran.

  For tonight’s occasion, two of the world’s largest telescreens had been placed over the enigmatic murals on the left and right of the main stage. Currently, they displayed news coverage of the festivities outside, namely all the UNR soldiers marching endlessly around the building. The only other change the UNR had made was converting the main stage into a podium for one instead of the usual desk that sat three speakers. This gave whoever was presenting quite a great deal of free space.

  At present, the Norwegian Queen Camilla was speaking.

  “I for one am enthralled that this ceremony finally got to take place. For too long we have allowed political differences to detract our attention from the very serious problems in our world today. There are people in Guayaquil who are spending the night on their rooftops in a flooded city. There are record pollution levels in Taiyuan, and even in the AEF, there are still citizens who go to bed hungry. Now we can begin a new era where we will work together to solve these problems. With our resources, leaders have an obligation to the afflicted. To neglect those duties is a crime in itself.”

  The woman wasn’t overly forceful, but she spoke with enough scorn to ensure she meant everyone in the room.

  “We owe a higher standard of living to the people in our care. I firmly believe with our combined efforts this can become a reality! Tonight is the first step toward it, and let us continue to move forward! Thank you.”

  The applause was stupendous as the Queen began to leave the stage. The entire hall was in an uproar. Oswald and his camerawoman, Cameron, were seated in the balcony section with the rest of the admitted press and non-leader attendees. She aimed her camera at
Oswald.

  “Queen Camilla has concluded her address, and so we move to the final two speeches of the International Summit. The next speech will be delivered by the Secretary General of the AEF itself, Cristiano Vanzetti!”

  ***

  Miles above Manhattan, within the clouds, was the remaining Peregrine. It hovered for now, waiting on Alex’s command. Gabby was in the pilot seat, observing her radar. Below them were a number of UNR aircraft, from Ospreys to helicopters.

  “Enemy aircraft activity remains consistent,” she reported.

  In the cargo bay, Bri checked her gear near the back. She was seated and only had one thing on her mind: the condition of her gun. Will and Alex were watching the Summit on his telescreen set-up. Vanzetti was now preparing to take the stage. Unlike all the previous speakers before him, he treated the UN Hall as his own group of friends. Vanzetti waved at them all before even making his way to the podium, inciting cheers all around.

  “Quite the socialite,” Alex commented.

  Because he knows exactly what’s about to happen, Will thought. Queen Camilla was one of his ten targets.

  “Especially after losing a plane,” Bri analyzed.

  “And still not one announcement regarding last night. That’s just downright strange,” Alex said.

  Will looked on this with growing frustration. Only he knew why the man could smile after all that happened. Actually, I don’t even think I really know, Will admitted to himself. He didn’t truly know Vanzetti, but one thing was blatantly obvious: the man was adaptable, a strategist, and an opportunist. Such a man always believes in insurance. Will could say that for certain because he himself believed so. If he was going to do this, he needed insurance of his own.

  “Alex?” Will said as he watched Vanzetti step up to the podium.

  “Yes?”

  “We’re all counting on this plan of yours. Thanks for organizing this. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, Will. This operation is our riskiest yet and quite frankly full of maybes.”