After Earth: A Perfect Beast by Peter David Michael Jan Friedman Robert Greenberger Page A

Wilkins submit a plan for the reduction of her forces—and the decentralization of the Rangers as an institution. A series of small police forces, one in each community, would still keep us safe. They could respond even more rapidly than the Rangers do today to local threats. Or if necessary, they could work together, brothers in arms, to deal with larger challenges.
    “Such a reorganization would also mean that services formerly supplied by the Rangers would be supplied instead by the augury or the Savant’s engineers. However, we would be willing to make that sacrifice.
    “Of course, once the Rangers are disbanded, there would be no Prime Commander. Our tripartite form of government would become bipartite. It would be a welcome simplification of what is sometimes an unwieldy process.
    “Mind you, I propose this reorganization with no malice toward the Prime Commander. I continue to hold her in the highest regard, as I do all the Rangers. But now is the time to embrace a new way.”
    The Primus was gratified to see a sea of heads bobbing in accord with his message. Everything was proceeding as he had hoped.
    Watching the Primus’s sermon from her office, Meredith Wilkins bit her lip. Sitting beside her, Bonita Raige looked like a coiled spring.
    “The bastard,” Bonita said.
    “That’s disrespectful,” said Wilkins. “He’s the spiritual leader of the colony, remember?”
    “And he’s a bastard,” Bonita insisted.
    Wilkins nodded. “Damned right he is.”
    She forced herself to watch the sermon to its unsavory conclusion. As far as she could tell, it was well received—as all Rostropovich’s addresses were received. He was that kind of speaker.
    Then came the obligatory press conference on the steps outside the congregation hall. “We are fortunate,” the Primus said to the journalists who had gathered around him, “to have survived Earth’s destruction. Nova Prime has been our redemption—and the Rangers have been God’s instruments in that redemption. For that, we owe them a debt of gratitude.
    “However, there is a time to reap and a time to sow, a time when we must take up arms and a time when we must lay them down. While we can never cease being cautious, our safety has been assured. Should we not free our brothers and sisters in the Rangers to do other work that will let us flourish as a colony? Might this not be the time to turn our swords into plowshares?”
    Abruptly, Wilkins cut the signal.
    “He’s taking it to us,” Bonita noted angrily. “Not only calling for a reduction in the number of Rangersbut the elimination of the Prime Commander from the tripartite agreement. I don’t know who’s the trickier bastard, Vander Meer or the Primus.”
    “Vander Meer is just a showman,” Wilkins said. “It’s the Primus I have to watch. His opinion and influence … well, I don’t have to tell you. I hate to say it, but we have to throw him a bone.”
    Bonita glanced at her. “You mean reduce our forces?”
    “Not yet. But something. Call a meeting of department heads. Tell them I want to hear cost-cutting suggestions. Make it first thing tomorrow.”
    Bonita nodded. She didn’t look happy.
    But then, Wilkins wasn’t happy, either. The idea of skimping on security went against everything she had ever been taught, everything she believed in. She wished there was another way.
    Unfortunately, she didn’t see any.
    When Conner was called into Lennon’s office in the command center, all kinds of thoughts went through his head.
    First, he thought he was going to be disciplined after all for fighting in the barracks. But if that were the case, Lucas would have been summoned to Lennon’s office as well, and Lennon had sent only for Conner.
    Next, it occurred to him that Lennon wanted to apologize for making his response to the fight a personal diatribe. After all, Conner was entitled to his beliefs, and Lennon had reamed him for them. But he rejected that possibility even more quickly than