before. Not just on Arcadia, either. People on Mars and
Elysium had similar stories to tell. Not that I could even publish that, of
course."
Ulla
looked disturbed. "But..." she said and then trailed off.
"The
UEN does lots of things that are less than savory," Aran said.
"I
know that," Ulla replied, annoyed. "No one intelligent really thinks
the UEN is prefect. But the UEN system works. There's been no major wars on
Earth since the UEN took over from the old UN system, and under the UEN system,
everyone has access to a fair share of the world's resources; medicine, shelter,
education. And everyone has rights.
"Here,
though, it seems like no one has any rights. You could be sick and starving to
death on the street here, and unless one of those private charities took pity
on you, or you allowed some biotech company to experiment on you, no one would
help. It's insane.
"I'll
grant you this place looks OK to us, but Aran, you have to remember that we're
only getting to see the nice side. I mean, I could show you Frankfurt like this...
or Berlin, or Munich... going to the high-tech company offices, the museums,
the nice parts of town... and it would look like a utopia. So long as I was
careful not to drive into the Turkish districts, say, or the Siedlungen , the public housing areas. And
I bet you could show me the same in Jakarta, or anywhere in Australia. But the
dark sides would still be there; the Aboriginal residence zones, or the Papuan
or Timorese communities in Indonesia. Except in all those places, the refugees
aren't shot on sight by the army.
"And
these Arcadians sound proud of the fact that they have what amounts to a
military dictatorship; you have to serve in the military to even have political
rights. I bet that if we talked to people who didn't want to serve in their
military, or who their 'charities' didn't approve of, we'd hear a different
story about this place."
Aran
nodded, but said nothing, and Ulla smiled, looking a touch embarrassed; her
tone had become rather intense. But Aran only smiled back at her, reassuring,
and she reached out and put her hand on his.
"I
mean, look, I understand that the Arcadian colonists weren't happy with UEN
policy," Ulla went on, "but that can't be an excuse for violence. And
there has to be a better way. If these people had worked with the UEN in the
first place, instead of pretending to be independent..."
"Remember
who the colonists were, though," Aran said.
"Right.
Extremists. People who couldn't fit in to modern society," Ulla said.
"Maybe
so," Aran said, and let the matter drop.
11.
The
embarkation was proceeding almost on schedule, which was, General Bannerman
thought, something close to a miracle. The man standing next to him, Colonel
Martin Mbala, looked pleased while the troops from his native Cameroon were
embarking; less pleased when the Russian contingent began their embarkation. He
also looked like he wanted to say something, and Bannerman nodded his
permission.
"Sir,
with all due respect," the Colonel began, "I have to question your
refusal to use drone combat vehicles in the mission plan. The entire operation
would be simpler if we reduced the number of people needed. It’s a way to avoid
altogether the use of contingents that are... less than reliable. With the
accepted doctrine of three drone-vehicles to one manned vehicle, we could cut
our total required personnel in half without reducing infantry forces. And we
could cut even more if we increase the number of indigenous fighters and assign
some of them to infantry duties."
At Bannerman's side, Major Hafez raised
an eyebrow and looked at his general. Bannerman shook his head slightly. Hafez
had the bureaucratic know-how to make Mbala go away, reassigned to something
menial and useless, like border patrol in the Arabian peninsula. But Bannerman
needed Mbala... or at least someone just like him.
An operation
like this one would normally have seen Bannerman in charge of
Elysium had similar stories to tell. Not that I could even publish that, of
course."
Ulla
looked disturbed. "But..." she said and then trailed off.
"The
UEN does lots of things that are less than savory," Aran said.
"I
know that," Ulla replied, annoyed. "No one intelligent really thinks
the UEN is prefect. But the UEN system works. There's been no major wars on
Earth since the UEN took over from the old UN system, and under the UEN system,
everyone has access to a fair share of the world's resources; medicine, shelter,
education. And everyone has rights.
"Here,
though, it seems like no one has any rights. You could be sick and starving to
death on the street here, and unless one of those private charities took pity
on you, or you allowed some biotech company to experiment on you, no one would
help. It's insane.
"I'll
grant you this place looks OK to us, but Aran, you have to remember that we're
only getting to see the nice side. I mean, I could show you Frankfurt like this...
or Berlin, or Munich... going to the high-tech company offices, the museums,
the nice parts of town... and it would look like a utopia. So long as I was
careful not to drive into the Turkish districts, say, or the Siedlungen , the public housing areas. And
I bet you could show me the same in Jakarta, or anywhere in Australia. But the
dark sides would still be there; the Aboriginal residence zones, or the Papuan
or Timorese communities in Indonesia. Except in all those places, the refugees
aren't shot on sight by the army.
"And
these Arcadians sound proud of the fact that they have what amounts to a
military dictatorship; you have to serve in the military to even have political
rights. I bet that if we talked to people who didn't want to serve in their
military, or who their 'charities' didn't approve of, we'd hear a different
story about this place."
Aran
nodded, but said nothing, and Ulla smiled, looking a touch embarrassed; her
tone had become rather intense. But Aran only smiled back at her, reassuring,
and she reached out and put her hand on his.
"I
mean, look, I understand that the Arcadian colonists weren't happy with UEN
policy," Ulla went on, "but that can't be an excuse for violence. And
there has to be a better way. If these people had worked with the UEN in the
first place, instead of pretending to be independent..."
"Remember
who the colonists were, though," Aran said.
"Right.
Extremists. People who couldn't fit in to modern society," Ulla said.
"Maybe
so," Aran said, and let the matter drop.
11.
The
embarkation was proceeding almost on schedule, which was, General Bannerman
thought, something close to a miracle. The man standing next to him, Colonel
Martin Mbala, looked pleased while the troops from his native Cameroon were
embarking; less pleased when the Russian contingent began their embarkation. He
also looked like he wanted to say something, and Bannerman nodded his
permission.
"Sir,
with all due respect," the Colonel began, "I have to question your
refusal to use drone combat vehicles in the mission plan. The entire operation
would be simpler if we reduced the number of people needed. It’s a way to avoid
altogether the use of contingents that are... less than reliable. With the
accepted doctrine of three drone-vehicles to one manned vehicle, we could cut
our total required personnel in half without reducing infantry forces. And we
could cut even more if we increase the number of indigenous fighters and assign
some of them to infantry duties."
At Bannerman's side, Major Hafez raised
an eyebrow and looked at his general. Bannerman shook his head slightly. Hafez
had the bureaucratic know-how to make Mbala go away, reassigned to something
menial and useless, like border patrol in the Arabian peninsula. But Bannerman
needed Mbala... or at least someone just like him.
An operation
like this one would normally have seen Bannerman in charge of
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