The
Dogs of War
"Dick,
please, just listen for a second. Arthur is recalling all
our
Ambassadors
from the NATO countries, including me. We've been ordered
to
leave within the hour, probably less."
"What
are you talking about? Why would he do that? It doesn't make
any
sense."
"You're
not listening to me. We're being recalled home because he's
going
to declare war and is afraid that we'll be used as hostages."
"He
can't do this. This is insane,"
"I
know that, we all do but he won't listen to any sort of reason.
He
insists
that American sub violated our water space. He says it was
spying
and has declared it an act of aggression by the US and her
allies.
He's saying that he's going to make the announcement as soon
as
we clear allied territory."
"But
how can he force you to leave? You can't just..."
"Dick,
listen to me. There are guards here, Xan and Marcus and I are
being
ordered home. We have no choice. They're going to escort us out
any
minute. The declaration of war will probably come within a couple
of
hours."
"But..."
"He
knows that we can't win a war with the surface nations but
he's
determined
to fight anyway. We'll be annihilated."
"But
maybe it's just a negotiating tactic or something and he's
not
telling
you."
"Our
Navy has been mobilizing for weeks, they're arming to full
strength
and are already moving to blockade major surface ports. As
soon
as they're in position, Arthur is going to issue the
declaration.
We've all been trying to defuse him, but he won't listen
to
anyone. This is real."
"Why
didn't you say something?"
"I
couldn't tell anyone. I was under orders not to talk."
"But..."
"Just
listen. I only have another minute before they realize that
I'm
talking
to you. The guards are just outside. I had my cel in my
pocket
and they're afraid to search royalty—Don't you understand what
I'm
saying? A blockade is an act of war in itself, even without
a
declaration.
The other nation's Ambassadors have been calling and
demanding
meetings for weeks trying to find out what's going on with
the
build up and the movements and we can't give them any solid
answers.
We've been under a gag order." There was some background
noise,
voices and the sound of things falling or being thrown.
"Garth?"
A
loud voice, angry words in Atlan came through the phone. "We're
being
moved out. I'll try to contact you." There was the sound of
a
struggle,
of the phone being dropped or thrown and the line went dead.
Dick
stared at the cel in his hand. Holy Fuck.
Automatically
he dialed Bruce's private number, the one only about
four
people in the world had. It was answered on the third
ring.
"Yes?"
"Do
you know anything about what's going on with Arthur declaring
war
against
some of the surface nations?"
"Only
that he's scaring a whole lot of people. Have you heard from
Garth
what's going on?"
"He
says that it's for real and that their Ambassador's, including
him,
are being forced home under armed guard. Shit, Bruce, he's
gone."
"Have
you spoken to Barbara?"
"No,
not yet. Do you know anyone in the State Department you could
ask?
Does anyone in the JLA know anything?"
"All
I know is that he's been acting more paranoid by the day for the
past
few months and that he's seeing threats under every bed and in
every
shadow."
"Garth
says that they can't win a war with the surface, but he's
determined
to fight anyway. It sounds like he's suicidal or
something."
"Yes,
I think he might be. Do you know if there's anyway that he
could
be removed from power? Has Garth ever told you about any checks
and
balances that they might have?"
"No.
All he ever said is that princes either die of old age or
murder.
And he's mentioned that Arthur is above the law."
"Hell.
Maybe the JLA will have to stop him."
"That
would be interfering with a foreign country."
"It
wouldn't be the first time. I'll get on this. You let me know if
you
learn anything."
The
connection was broken.
Not
knowing what else to do for a second, he clicked on the TV and
turned
to CNN. The breaking story banner was up and some talking head
was
going on about the growing crisis situation that was developing
and
how nations around the world were moving to act to protect
their
ports
and shipping with all possible speed. Navies were mobilizing
and
statements were being prepared. All ships at sea were being
ordered
into the nearest port since no one really knew what the Atlan
navy
was capable of.
He
hit the computer. "Barbara? You there?"
The
screen immediately lit up. "I'm here. Your boyfriend OK so
far?"
"He's
been forced home. What's going on, Barbara? Can they really do
any
damage or are they just saber rattling?"
"Their
weapon capabilities are unknown. No one has ever made an
inspection
and they've never been forthcoming as to what they have
available.
Even Garth has stonewalled me when I've asked him. My
guess
is that with a nation as advanced as Atlantis, though, you
don't
want them pissed off at you if you can avoid it."
"Is
this really war?"
"Not
yet, but it looks like it will be pretty soon. The
Atlantean
government
announced that they would have a statement within about
half
an hour."
The
newsreader at CNN was talking again against the scrolling
banner.
"We've received confirmed reports that the ports of New
York,
New
Orleans, Los Angeles, San Francisco, San Diego, London,
Sydney,
Tokyo,
Havana and others have been closed by blockades of
Atlantean
warships.
Reports are that while no shots have been fired, ships both
trying
to either enter or leave these ports have been warned that
any
attempt
to cross blockade lines will result in their being fired
upon.
In addition, there are reasons to believe that the entranceways
to
these harbors have been mined." The woman looked off camera for
a
moment.
"This just handed to me. The American State Department
had
ordered
a freeze on all assets owned by any Atlantean government
agencies,
businesses or individuals, effective immediately."
She
looked off camera for a second. "We have an analysis as to
what
this
could mean from our economic expert, Dr. Peter Mueser. Peter,
are
you there?" There were a few seconds of blank screen then
another
cut
back to the head. "We seem to be having some
technical
difficulties
but we'll get that to you as soon as we can."
"Recapping.
Atlantean warships have blockaded major ports around the
world
and in response the American government has frozen all assets
of
that country that are registered in the US. England and
Australia
have
followed suit with the freeze. We are going to a live feed now
from
what I'm told is the Senate Chamber of the Atlantean
Government,
located
approximately a mile and a half underwater in the mid-
Atlantic.
A spokesman is ready to deliver a statement."
A
man wearing Atlantean robes was standing behind a rostrum. He
spoke
in
accented English.
"Ladies
and Gentlemen. As of twelve noon, Atlan time, approximately
fifteen
minutes ago, a state of war exists between our nation and the
United
States of America. Any nation in any way siding with the
United
States or in any way aiding that nation against us will be
considered
to be acting in an aggressive manner and the state of war
will
extend to include that nation as well.
"We
do not make this decision lightly, however, our national
boundaries
have been violated innumerable times and our people
poisoned
by the intentional dumping of toxic wastes in such a manner
as
to intentionally kill and maim. Efforts to negotiate treaties to
put
an end to these violations have failed.
"We
have no choice but to defend ourselves and protect our
population.
"In
accordance with this announcement, our ambassadors have been
recalled
and are, at this moment, enroute home. Any treaties already
in
place are subject to review on a case-by-case basis. Several
major
surface
ports have been blockade so as to prevent military and
private
shipping from interfering with out national interests. At
this
time we also wish to state that we cannot guarantee the safety
of
any foreign vessel found within the limits of our legal
boundaries.
Our National borders are to be crossed only at your own
risk."
From
a central room on the surface, there was a babble of voices from
the
assembled reporters who were assigned to cover the
announcement.
"No questions at this time." The spokesman walked out.
The
screen shifted to one of the national talking heads. "To recap;
A
man
identified as The Duke of Panos, has just announced that war has
just
been declared against the United States by Atlantis as a result
of
what they term repeated violations against their national borders
and
what was referred to as the deliberate dumping of toxic wastes.
He
further stated that a number of major ports around the world
have
been
blockaded and that worldwide shipping and passenger ships can
not
expect safe passage should they attempt to cross any of
their
national
lines. There have also been reports coming in from reliable
sources
that some harbors have been mined."
The
screen cut to a graphic of the area claimed by Atlantis.
"Since
official
contact with the Atlantean government was established less
than
a decade ago, there is a tremendous amount that we simply don't
know
about this country which is known for rejecting almost all
outside
contact. We do know that it's ruled by King Orin who is,
apparently,
an absolute monarch. We know that they have some sort of
parliament
or representative council from the fifteen separate city-
states
that make up their nation. We do not know their population,
their
GNP or, unfortunately, their military capabilities. We do know
that
they are quite advanced technically. In some areas they
are
acknowledged
to be significantly ahead of surface nations."
Another
head broke in. "Does that mean that the threats could be
backed
up with real weapons?"
"Unfortunately,
no one knows for sure, but the American State
Department
is apparently acting under the assumption that they can do
pretty
much whatever they claim they can."
"There
has been some speculation for several months now that King
Orin
might be under a tremendous amount of stress and that he might
react
in an inappropriate manner should something occur which he
perceives
as a threat. Could that be what we are seeing now?"
"A
number of people in the State Department have considered
that
possibility,
especially in light of the fact that the King has
recalled
his ambassadors out of alleged fear for their personal
safety.
That would hint at paranoia. For a more in depth analysis of
that
possibility, we go to out medical expert, Dr. Frank Carver."
Dick's
phone rang, causing him to jump. "Yes?"
"Dick?
Mr. Grayson? It's Ann Ryder, the Prince's assistant. Have you
seen
what's happening?"
"Yes,
he called me. Do you know anything?"
"Not
all that much. Look, I'm really scared and I think you're the
only
one who might understand what I'm going through right now. I'm
sorry
to break in like this, but could I come over to your place?"
She
heard the pause. "I could be there in five minutes, I'm
almost
across
the bridge now."
"Yeah,
of course. Top floor."
The
Medical expert on CNN was going on citing past examples of
Arthur's
temper and various neurosis. In all the years that he'd had
a
passing acquaintance with the King, Dick never had liked the
man.
There
was something about him that just seemed—off. He was a loose
cannon
and when you coupled that with the crap he had pulled on Garth
over
all those years...yeah, well Dick knew that there was a pretty
good
chance that the guy would flip out at some point.
It
seemed that flip point had arrived.
He
wasn't even all that surprised when he had a minute to let it
sink
in.
It seemed that he had started getting weird a few years ago when
his
son had been killed and his marriage headed south. Whatever he
had
been using to hold himself together, at least most of the time
seemed
to have unraveled then.
He
heard the knock on the door.
Ann.
She
stood there, took one look at him, put her arms around him
and
started
crying. He hugged her back, for himself as much as for her.
"It
was a nightmare. We were just working in the office. It wasn't
even
lunchtime yet. The Prince was on another floor talking with the
rep
from South Africa. I was in the front, near the reception desk
when
one of the UN guards came in and said that there were some men
who
demanded to see the Ambassador and Marcus and that they were
armed,
but they were from Atlantis and insisted that they were there
under
orders from the King.
"They
pushed their way in—I don't know how they got up to our floor,
but
they did. We couldn't use the phones to warn the men, they
wouldn't
let us. When Gar....the Prince and Marcus walked back in from
their
meeting, they walked right into it. They had no idea.
"The
three of them were taken back to Gar..." She started to
apologize.
"It's
OK. That's what I call him. Go on. Who was the third man?"
"They
took them back to Garth's office. Oh, I forgot. Xan—you know
him,
their Ambassador to the US? He was up with us today for
meetings,
too, so he was with Garth and Marcus. I couldn't understand
what
they were saying because it was in Atlan and they were
speaking
really
fast. I'm starting to learn it, but it was too fast for me and
I
think they were using some slang, too.
"About
an hour later their guards took the three of them out. Garth
asked
me to tell you what happened."
Dick
moved her further into the apartment, sitting her on the couch
beside
him, his arm still around her shoulders. "He called me from
his
office, I think. He had his cel with him. I knew that he was
being
forced back against his will."
"Then
I started hearing the reports of what's happening. We didn't
know
what to do, so I stayed there, answering the phones and the
questions
that were flooding in from everybody—the other
countries,
reporters,
the White House. Then after about an hour, we got a call
from
the Council in Atlantis. We were ordered to shut the office,
lock
the door and go home. I heard that the town house is under
guard,
too. The city of New York has stationed cops in front to avoid
any
retaliatory damage happening."
"Ann,
did you know any of this was going down before it happened
this
morning?
Were there any warnings at all or were the Ambassadors all
kept
in the dark?"
"I
don't really know. I think they had an idea that something was up
a
week or maybe two ago. There were a lot of things going on
behind
closed
doors and they were making a point of speaking in Atlan so
that
no one would know what they were saying. And it wasn't even
just
Atlan—some
of us can understand that a little. They were using some
weird
dialect that no one up here knows. I know that Garth moved a
lot
of money out of this country—both official accounts and his
own
stuff.
Really a lot of money. Tens of billions of dollars. The
Federal
Trade Commission and the SEC and the Wall Street watch dogs
were
calling but I guess that it was all legal because it all went
through
to protected off shore accounts." She took a Kleenex from
the
box
on the coffee table, blew her nose. "He must have had a reason
to
suspect
that the assets would be frozen or something. I don't know,
maybe
he was acting under orders."
Their
attention was taken by the TV. "This just in. There
are
confirmed
report of shots being exchanged near the border claimed by
Atlantis
in the Atlantic Ocean, about one thousand miles east of New
York
City. The first reports are that an American destroyer has been
fired
upon and has sustained what could be serious damage. Other
Naval
ships are responding to this exchange and are moving to aid
the
damaged
ship. There is no immediate word of casualties."
"Oh,
shit." Dick sounded so—sad. It was really starting. "Ann,
the
news
reports and what I've gotten from some friends is that even
with
the new openness and the treaties and Ambassadors that
Atlantis
has sent to the surface the last few years, we really don't
know
much about them. Not the real nuts and bolts. I heard that it
isn't
even known what their population is. You work with them
everyday—you
must have heard something."
"Well
you live with him. You would know as much as I do. OK, I'm
sorry.
I just know mostly what everyone knows about them, they're
smart
and nice and they have incredible artwork. They're
sophisticated
and advanced but they kept all kinds of things
classified.
They were always very nice about it, but the reports
would
always be encrypted and even basic stuff like how their
government
worked, the line of succession, their GNP—all of that was
glossed
over. Major things like their military capabilities weren't
ever
open for discussion."
"Well,
they must have been asked."
"Of
course they were. They'd either politely change the subject
to
something
they were willing to discuss or just say they couldn't talk
about
it."
"How
did they get away with that? I mean they were dealing with the
UN
and the State Department?"
"They
wouldn't have been able to pull it off much longer, I don't
think.
They were just so charming and they milked they whole mystique
about
being from underwater and being the stuff of legend for all it
was
worth. They knew exactly what they were doing. If they were about
to
be cornered they would come up with a major change of subject
like
that
art exhibit at the Met they hosted."
"That
was calculated? I mean beyond a PR thing?"
"Of
course it was. They were starting to get tough questions about
their
sources of power and the size of their military. They wouldn't
answer
that sort of thing. That was all Garth's idea when they knew
that
they were close to being busted for hard answers."
"Did
Garth ever come out and say this to you?"
"Of
course not, but being there every day, it was pretty
obvious."
"Shit,
he even told me that it was a big cultural thing so people on
the
surface would start to get to know them."
"And
I think that was part of it—but a small part. It was a big
smoke
screen."
"What
about Marcus? You two were getting pretty tight there. Did he
ever
talk about any of this?"
"Marcus?
God no. He was—is completely loyal to his government. He'd
do
anything they asked and he's so cowed by the whole royalty thing
that
he's wipe Garth's shoes if he was asked. They wouldn't ever
leave
anything lying around at night or even if they just went to
lunch.
Security was subtle, but it was tight. No one knew anything
that
they weren't supposed to."
The
TV caught them again. "We have breaking news. It has just
been
announced
that the USS Potomac has been sunk with heavy loss of life.
We
have live pictures and we are...are we?...Yes, we are going to
the
scene."
The screen shifted to a shot of the Mid Atlantic on a sunny
day
taken from a helicopter. There were several ships surrounding
a
burning
oil slick and men were being pulled from the water by means
of
other copters and small lifeboats.
"We
have no word yet as to the number of sailors who have been lost,
but
the first reports are that at least several hundred crew are
missing.
We're going to a radio report from aboard the aircraft
carrier
USS JF Kennedy at the scene.
"Yes?
This is Captain Jon Thatcher speaking. We were cruising
together
about half an hour ago when we heard and saw a large
explosion
from the Potomac, which was just astern of us at the time.
It
appeared to be some sort of powerful torpedo or something similar.
It
appeared to hit near the ordinance and within about two minutes
the
ship just went up."
"Captain,
are there many survivors?"
"We're
bringing them in now, but it seems that there was heavy lose
of
life."
"Is
there any question as to whom is responsible, sir?"
"Several
minutes the attack we received a radio warning from a
voice
purporting
to be a Naval officer of the Atlantean Navy warning us to
change
course."
"And
did you do so?"
"No,
we don't recognize the border they are claiming."
"They
issued a second warning, we continued, they told us that they
would
start shooting and they did."
"Did
the Atlantean ship ever show itself?"
"No,
it's some sort of sub. It hasn't surfaced."
"Have
they offered to aid the men in the water?"
"No,
but they did say that they wouldn't hamper rescue efforts."
"Have
they?"
"No,
we haven't been impeded."
Dick
turned the sound off. "That's that. Now there will
be
retaliation
and it will escalate."
"You
know the thing about them that really struck me all the time I
worked
with them?"
He
looked at her, shrugged. "What?"
"They're
smart. I mean they're really smart. Even the people they
brought
up here to be menials, the cooks and the maids are really
smart
people. Well read and informed. At first I just thought that
they
had decided to bring the best helpers they could, but then I
started
wondering why someone who could discuss the great
philosophers
was dicing vegetables or making beds."
"You
think they were spies of something?"
"I
don't know, but it seemed odd."
"I
never really paid that much attention to the others besides
Marcus.
I think I spoke to one of the maids a couple of times, but
that's
about it. I know Garth and Marcus are both pretty damn bright.
Hell,
Garth is miles ahead of me when it comes to all that stuff he
was
doing. Half of the time he would talk about something and I
hadn't
a clue."
"They
used to wipe the floor with the other reps at the UN, but they
would
do it with so much charm that no one ever really noticed that
they'd
just been hosed. And after a dinner or something they would
talk
about it and what had been said and they would nail every nuance
and
little slip—they were always doing that. A lot of times they
would
laugh about how easy it was."
He
got up to get the phone. "I'm going to order some dinner.
What
would
you like? Chinese?"
"Sure,
Fine. Anything is fine." The food ordered, they returned to
the
couch.
"You
think that this whole thing at the UN and all was a cover of
some
kind?"
"No—maybe—I
don't know. I don't want to think that it is—was. I like
them.
I really like them."
"You
think that they were just using us and the UN and whatever else
to
gather information for their government or something?"
"I—I
think that they genuinely like us and that they were here to
open
doors and negotiate the treaties and all of that, but I believe
that
there was another agenda. Sure I believe that."
"Like
what?"
"I
don't know, but I do know that their loyalties are to their
country
and their King—especially Garth. Isn't he the next in line to
the
throne? He always downplayed it, but he's as royal as you
can
get."
"Did
you ever hear them talk about Arthur—Orin?"
"Only
bits and pieces. I think they thought that he was nuts and had
to
be contained."
"If
Arthur found out then he'll see Garth as a threat to his power.
He's
in danger going back home. Do you think that Garth would look
for
a way to supplant Arthur?"
"I
think that Garth loves his country and would whatever he thinks
is
necessary
to protect it."
"If
Arthur thinks Garth is a threat to him...shit."
TBC
3/29/03
Dogs
of War 2
Part
Two
Garth
and the others, the other Atlan ambassadors to the various
surface
nations and their senior staffs had been taken, against
their
will almost two weeks ago. They had finally arrived back in
Posidonis
and had been kept, cooling their heels in various rooms of
the
palace waiting for King Orin, Arthur, to deign to see them.
They
were still waiting.
Garth
was ensconced in his usual private quarters, the ones he'd
used
since he was a child so at least he was slightly more at home,
more
at ease than the others. His own books were there and his own
things,
though it was apparent that they had been searched. The two
doors
were locked, but at least it wasn't an actual cell, just a
literal
one.
The
balcony overlooking the courtyard, the one where he had
enjoyed
quietly
reading by himself when he was younger and alone, that had
been
shut off. His communication devices, what on the surface would
be
phones and e-mail, were removed.
The
only contact allowed was through servants loyal to Arthur. They
would
appear twice a day with food and see to whatever needs he
might
have. Though polite, they would answer no questions. His
own
retainers,
people who had been with him since his childhood, were
nowhere
to be seen and he could only hope that they were safe.
Arthur
had, as far as Garth could figure, finally snapped.
There
had been some concern among the others, Garth's close friends
in
the diplomatic corps, that Arthur couldn't handle the strain
any
longer,
that he was becoming dangerously unbalanced and was
losing
perspective,
but no one would say anything for fear that the results
would
be deadly.
Arthur
was known, among the people in Atlantis, as uncompromising
when
it came to any perceived threats to his nation and a coup or
attempt
to either remove him from the throne or to control him would
not
have been taken well. Unless it succeeded of course, and no one
was
willing to take the chance of trying and failing.
They
would speak among themselves during the last year or so, when
they
knew no one could hear, but had not yet been able to make any
moves
to mediate his growing anger against the surface nations.
It
had been a fairly ordinary day at the UN, Xan as Atlantean
ambassador
to the US was up from Washington to go over a couple of
trade
agreements which were ready to be finalized and Marcus, the
Under
Councilor at the UN—basically Garth's right hand man— had been
in
on the meetings as well.
The
first round of meetings over, the three men had taken the
elevator
upstairs to the 23rd floor to their own mission offices and
had
walked into an ambush.
Atlantean
soldiers, Arthur's personal guards from the looks and
demeanor
or them, had surrounded them in the reception area. They
had
been hustled back to Garth's office, the rest of the staff told
to
shut everything down, and had been effectively imprisoned for
twenty
minutes while they could hear the outside offices being
ransacked.
When the UN security guards had attempted to intervene,
they
had been told that it was an internal matter and didn't
concern
them.
Cowed,
slightly, by his royal status Garth had been spared the body
search
the others had been subjected to and so had been able to
secretly
make one quick call to Dick, letting him know what was
going
on before the cel was smashed against a wall when one of the
guards
walked in mid call. The armed Atlans won their argument
against
the UN officials; the men had been escorted out of the
building
and to a ship waiting in the river. They had been brought
directly
back to their own capitol with no outside contact, either
to
or from the men was allowed.
The
news reports they had gotten while enroute home confirmed that
the
Atlan Navy had blockaded a number of major surface ports and
had
fired
upon and sunk an American warship with heavy loss of life.
The
official
announcements and the declaration of war had been paranoid
and
irrational. The fear around the world was real and well founded.
No
one on the surface knew the extent of the Atlan
military
capabilities.
No one knew their abilities in technology. They had no
idea
if they had one ship or a thousand. There was no information on
the
surface about their population, the number of cities they had,
the
internal workings of the government or what any long-term
policies
were.
No
one knew what they could do.
No
one knew what they would do, or why.
That
had been the unofficial position for years and nothing Garth or
any
of the others said would sway Arthur in the slightest. He
refused
to release any information that could possibly be used
against
them.
It
had been Arthur's firm policy, one Garth had fought, that
nothing
substantive
would be forthcoming during the last two years of
opening
talks and treaties negotiations with the surface. Everything
was
classified, everything was secret. No matter how he had argued
that
to have a true alliance there had to be some degree of trust,
no
matter what was said or what proof was given, Arthur would allow
no
real information through.
The
Atlans, the ones in direct contact with the landsmen, knew that
they
would have to divulge information soon. Hard questions were
being
asked and no amount of charm or diversions would satisfy the
men
on the surface much longer.
They
were running out of time.
Finally,
in the last month Arthur had seen every slight, real or
imagined,
as a prelude to war. Three and a half weeks ago Garth had
been
ordered to start moving all Atlantean assets out of any bank or
stock
or fund based in any member NATO country. Billions, tens of
billions
had been moved. He'd pulled every string he had to allow
the
off shore transfer of that much capital, but it had finally
been
allowed.
Listening to the rumors that were swirling, he had become
convinced
that there was a real danger accounts would be frozen and
so
had moved his own surface held holdings along with the rest.
Three
weeks ago he had been informed through secret diplomatic
channels
that an American Naval sub had strayed into waters claimed
by
Atlantis. Arthur was convinced that the ship was there on a
spy
mission.
Garth
had been the only Atlan rep who was kept completely abreast of
the
situation, with strict orders to keep everything top secret. No
one
was to be told anything, not even his most trusted advisors.
Even
Dick had been kept in the dark.
The
next day orders to mobilize the Atlan Naval, already standing
at
alert,
had gone out and the first moves to blockade surface ports
had
begun.
The
blockades were put in place and within hours the representatives
had
been forcibly recalled and a declaration of war had been issued.
In
hours the first surface ship had been sunk.
Garth
could have told the surface navies that they stood no chance
against
Atlan weapons, not in or on the water.
They
stood no chance. None.
He
had laughed as a child the first time he had heard the
song,
Rule Britannia'. Britannia didn't rule the waves. Atlantis
did.
They had technology that hadn't even been thought of on the
surface
yet. They knew things about the waters and the oceans of the
planet
no one on the surface could imagine. They had harnessed power
and
created weapons that...
The
surface nations stood no chance against them, not on or
in
water.
There
seemed to be a pervasive view on the surface that the Atlans
were
either myth or stupid. In fact, they were neither. They were a
nation
of people who had almost eight thousand years to develop
their
technology and their arts with no interference from the
surface.
They were intelligent, highly educated and fiercely
independent.
They were a people who were proud of who they were and
what
they had accomplished. Living for countless generations
underwater
they had not only adapted, they had thrived. They would
not
be defeated easily.
They
had ships the surface had no concept of, with weapons
and
surveillance
capabilities and methods of evading detection that were
beyond
the best imaginations of even the science fiction writers.
The
surface ships, the men and women in them would be sitting
targets
and there was nothing they could do about it. They wouldn't
even
know they were in danger until the ships were hit.
Equally,
they stood no chance at retaliation. The Atlan ships were
equipped
with devices and means that would make them invisible to
any
sonar or radar now in existence. That was how that American ship
had
been so easily destroyed. No one knew the Atlan ship was there
or
that it had stood quietly below the surface, a hundred fathoms
down,
while the rescue efforts had been underway.
They
had done nothing to impede the rescue, after pleadings from
Garth
that to hinder attempts to help would not only be inhumane,
but
a public relations disaster and one they would likely never
recover
from. It was the best he could come up with on short notice
and
luckily it seemed to work. It was one of the only concessions
he'd
managed from Arthur during the previous week.
Even
after the ship was damaged and starting to sink, the surface
ships,
even the satellites, had no way of detecting their
attackers
whereabouts.
They could come and go at will.
The
surface navies had no way of knowing that every Atlan ship was
coated
with an surfacing that deflected any radar or sonar. They
could
be ten feet away and would be undetectable to the surface
technology.
It was one of the thousands of pieces of information
that
was listed as classified.
No
one of the surface knew.
They
might have suspected, but no one actually knew any more than
they
knew about the completely silent propulsion units on every ship
built
in an Atlan dockyard. No one could see them, no one could hear
them.
For all practical purposes they were invisible.
They
were also faster than any surface ship and could dive deeper.
They
were almost unstoppable.
He
turned as the door opened, two servants he hadn't seen before
were
coming towards him. They were older than he was, maybe in
their
mid-forties.
He could see the armed guards standing outside,
waiting.
Assuming the royal mask he knew gave nothing away, he
simply
waited for them to say something.
"Your
Highness."
He
nodded, waited. With a nod to the guards, the second man closed
the
door. The three men were alone.
"We
trust that you are being treated well and that all your needs
are
being attended to?"
"Yes,
thank you." The two men exchanged a glance.
"Is
there anything that we could get for you or that would make your
stay
more comfortable?"
"Thank
you, I have everything I need." It was a lie, but they all
knew
that. It didn't matter. Asking had been a mere courtesy. It was
time
to cut to the chase.
The
taller man of the two moved closer, turning up the music that
had
been softly playing in the background, speaking softly enough
that
the sound wouldn't carry. The other man checked to make sure
that
the doors were secured and that they were as alone as they
could
hope for under the circumstances. "Forgive my speaking
bluntly,
My Lord, but time is short. We believe that you may not be
in
complete agreement with the course of action our government
has
decided
on."
Garth
gave nothing away. He didn't know these men. They could be
anyone.
They could be working for Arthur. In his years living in the
palace,
he'd learned nothing if not discretion. Besides, he had
assumed
years ago that his quarters were bugged. He had
assumed
correctly.
"I
am, as I have always been, the King's man."
The
taller man spoke again, "As are we all, and as such we want
only
what's
best for him and our nation."
"Of
course."
"There
is some feeling that you, your Highness, may be able to
deflect
some of what is happening...We all want only what is best for
our
people."
They
wanted him to somehow stop Arthur and they probably had some
kind
of idea of how to go about it. On the other hand, they could
be
working
for Arthur and gathering a reason to have him executed to
remove
him as a rallying point for the factions who didn't support
the
current policy.
"I
would be pleased to speak with the King to see what course he
has
decided
on, if he would be willing to share it with me."
"With
all respect, My Lord, we fear the King may be too consumed
with
his present course to give you his full attention."
"And
I take it that you have a proposal you wish me to consider?"
"We
do, My Lord. If you would be so gracious as to lend us your
ear."
"And
His Majesty is aware that you are here speaking with me?"
"We
wouldn't further burden the King, Your Highness." So
Arthur
didn't
know. "Sir, we are mere Councilors from the Outer Cities,
hardly
worthy of His Majesty's time when he is so busy. We were
hoping
that you might be able to convey our concerns and our
suggestions
for us. We know you have his respect, My Lord."
"I
see." They understood one another now. How had these guys
gotten
in?
Were the guards working for them? Had they been bribed? Would
they
report back to Arthur? "But I fear that His Majesty may be
too
busy
to speak with me, either. If that should be the case, have you
other
thoughts?"
The
odds that Arthur would agree to see him now were pretty remote,
as
these guys must have known.
"We
do, My Lord. We have a letter that has been prepared and signed
by
a good number of the representatives of the Cities. Perhaps you
might
present this to your many friends on the surface to make our
position
more clear. In a time like this, certain actions can so
easily
be—misunderstood."
"And
do you have this letter with you?"
"My
Lord, we do not as we would in no way wish to compromise your
own
safety. If a letter were found in your personal apartments,
it's
meaning
could be misconstrued." In other words, he could be brought
up
on charges of treason and killed. Of course he could probably
be
killed
just for listening to the men anyway.
"It
is the King's pleasure that I await his attention here in
these
rooms.
I'm in no position to deliver a letter, or anything else,
to
anyone."
"Indeed,
My Lord. In times like these such things are not easily
arranged,
but there are ways, sir."
"I've
no doubt."
"If
such a message were to be sent, where might it have the
attention
we would hope it would receive?"
There
was a good chance that his speaking to these men would cost
him
his life. These men could be Arthur's, this could well be what
Dick
would call a set-up. If it was he knew that he'd be executed
within
twenty-four hours, just enough time for the charges and a
mockery
of a trial.
On
the other hand, he knew that he could probably count his
life
expectancy
in days anyway, with what was going on. What did Dick
say?
Nothing ventured, nothing gained? That was it.
"I
would think that such a letter delivered to the Secretary General
of
the United Nations with a simultaneous release to the major
news
services
for the surface would ensure it receiving the proper
attention
it would deserve." He stopped. Even suggesting that much
was
enough to implicate him a conspiracy. In fact the Justice
League
would
be a good bet as well, but he didn't bother to mention it. It
was
too obvious. "Good, My Lords, you ask much. What proof have
I
that
your desires are those that would be best for our nation?"
The
other man, the one who had been holding back, came closer.
Close
enough
that Garth could see his eyes. They were purple, not as vivid
as
his own, but purple, never the less.
"Your
Highness, we both had the honor of friendship with His
Majesty,
your father and hold you—as do many others—as our true
king.
You are of the blood born and the throne is yours by right of
law
and custom. We would see you take the position you were bred
to."
"You
flatter me, but my position on this is clear: I've no interest
in
any throne. I believe whatever talents I may have are better used
as
an Ambassador, not as a monarch."
"Yes,
My Lord and forgive me, your position has been stated often,
however
we must all serve the larger good and you are the true King,
whatever
your personal wishes may be."
Garth
looked at the two men. He knew there was a group who wanted
Arthur
gone and him on the throne in his place. He knew what his
bloodlines
were and where he stood in the line of succession. He
also
knew that his legal claim to the throne was significantly
stronger
than Arthur's and that fact was becoming common knowledge.
It
was not something he had ever really wanted known. He didn't want
the
throne, any throne and he knew that Arthur wouldn't hesitate to
kill
him if he thought that he'd accept one.
King,
Prince or servant, he was just a pawn in this, whatever the
outcome
ended up being.
What
he wanted was for this all to have been a nightmare and to wake
up
with Dick's arms around him in their own bed.
There
was a good chance that he wouldn't ever see Dick again.
"Have
you any news from the surface? How goes the war?
What
casualties?"
There
was a good chance that soon he'd be another causality.
"Our
blockades are still in place and there has been one large
surface
Naval ship sunk every day, each one in a different part of
the
world. Our own losses have been minimal as the surface navies
seem
unable to detect our ships." Of course they couldn't.
Stealth
and
secrecy were among their best weapons. "The King refuses
any
negotiations
and insists that this will continue until they accede
to
our demands."
"Which
are?"
"Immediate
and stringent pollution controls, acknowledgement of our
borders
and full political equality with access to all ports and
inclusion
in all relevant treaties, payment for injuries and birth
defects
and illness caused by ocean dumping. There are more, but
those
are the main points. And His Majesty demands that this all
be
enacted—or
at least started— within two weeks."
It
would never happen. Never. It wasn't possible.
"And
if the surface nations don't accede?"
"The
sinkings will continue, one a day and the blockades will remain
in
place at most major ports. Ports not actually blockaded will be
mined
and off shore drilling rigs will be considered hostile
and
destroyed."
And no one on the surface knew how to disarm Atlan mines
or
bombs.
They
might have had a chance at some concessions if they could be
proved
to be economically feasible for the surface nations, but they
would
never agree to these terms, not at gunpoint.
Atlantis
would be depth bombed back to the Stone Age first. If the
surface
Navy's couldn't stop the Atlan ships, they would try to
destroy
the cities. Atlantis would defend itself, but eventually
they
would be annialated. Even with their weapons and the safety of
being
a mile underwater, they would be vulnerable.
Yes
they had a number of other cities and not all of the exact
locations
were known on the surface, but their nation would still
suffer
tremendous losses, both in terms of causalities and damage
and
in loss of credence and ethics to the land nations.
They
had managed to survive, even thrive while the rest of the
world
believed
them to be legend and out of reach. Now that they were
real,
not even their technology could withstand an extended assault
by
all the surface nations. And the surface nations would have
good
reason
to need them stopped soon if worldwide shipping was now
disrupted.
The economies of most of the world's nations would be in
serious
trouble if it continued.
And
Garth believed with all his heart that most wars were based
on
economics.
"And
you wish me to become the rallying point for forces and
factions
you say are opposed to the King and our current situation?"
Hell,
the room was bugged, these men were probably working for
Arthur
and even if neither of those things were true, the chances
that
they would succeed in unseating the King and making the
surface
nations
believe them were almost nonexistent.
Garth
knew that he was likely already sentenced to death on some
trumped
up charge or another. What difference would it make if he at
least
went down for his beliefs...better to be hung for the crime
he
commits
then for the crime he didn't. Just the fact that he hadn't
called
the guards and had the men arrested when he knew why they
were
there would be enough to condemn him.
What
was the phrase Richard used? Oh yes—either way he was
screwed.
"What
use can I be to you locked in here?"
After
Arthur was killed or otherwise disabled, along with his
chief
supporters,
Garth would be put on the throne as a moderate voice. He
would
declare an end to hostilities and assume the Monarchy on a
permanent
basis.
Their
plan was for him to tape a message that would be smuggled out
to
the UN or the surface news agencies along with the letter signed
by
a large number of the councilors from the different cities. It
would
state that the war was not what Atlantis wanted, that there
were
forces which had been working against the King and that by the
time
the message was delivered, the situation would be contained.
Garth
was highly thought of and had a deep well of good will and
support
among the Atlan people. He also had the respect of the
surface
nations and he was well known to the surface leaders. They
would
make clear that he would be able to unite the cities, or at
least
most of them and Atlantis would come out of this stronger in
the
long run.
If
they succeeded.
If
he wasn't killed.
"And
what proof do I have that you are who you say?"
The
taller man came closer, pushing back his left sleeve. On the
inside
of his forearm was a tattoo of the crest of Garth's family,
the
one that was on the shields and their flag and any number of
other
places—in Shayeris. It had been banned everywhere else as part
of
Arthur's ongoing plan to marginalize Garth over the years.
Of
course, it proved nothing, it could all be part of a plan but he
had
nothing else to go on. The second man also approached, he, too
had
the tattoo.
"We
served your father, sir. We would serve you and see you in
your
rightful
place."
Gods,
all his life he had dreaded the thought. His father had been
murdered
as king. Arthur was insane as king and he, he knew his duty
and
his responsibility but he didn't want it. He never had.
It
was inevitable.
Yes,
he would do it if he had to but he knew it would likely kill
him
one way or another. He would either be murdered one day or
killed
with stress and overwork.
No
matter. One life forfeit to stop a war was more than a
fair
bargain.
Poor
Richard. He would be forfeit, too. Their happiness would
be
forfeit.
He
had an idea. "Are you in contact with the surface? Is it
possible
to
get a message out?"
"It's
difficult but it can be done."
Garth
went into his private sleeping chamber. Writing quickly he
penned
a letter to Richard. He would ask the men to deliver it. He
would
have to trust them since it was impossible for Arthur not to
know
that he'd been contacted by the peace coalition. He had
no
choice.
He
went back out the main chamber. "Deliver this to the person
named
on
the envelope. If what I ask is done, then we may have a chance."
The
two men exchanged glances. "You will work with us,
your
highness?"
The
room was bugged. This was enough to have him killed.
He
was going to be killed anyway.
He
nodded, saying nothing the microphones could pick up and knowing
that
there were likely cameras recording his response anyway.
Relieved,
they bowed and signaled for the guards to let them
out.
"We'll do what you wish, sir."
Back
in Haven, Dick Grayson felt like he had been going quietly
crazy.
Garth was evidently under some kind of house arrest in
Arthur's
palace and Arthur himself was obviously nuts.
They
hadn't been able to contact one another at all since he'd been
sent
back and no one knew if he was even still alive, though Bruce
and
the others tried to reassure him that even Arthur wasn't crazy
enough
to kill a popular member of the blood royal when he was
sitting
on an unstable government.
Two
weeks now. That's how long it had been since it had all started
and
every night there was another report of some naval ship being
blown
up without warning. The ships destroyed were always military,
never
privately owned, though there were no guarantees that would
last.
Every night there were pictures on the news of sailors being
rescued
and of the ships going down in less than five minutes.
For
two weeks he'd slept alone in their bed and even though he knew
it
was selfish and almost childish—damnit—he wanted Garth back
to
hold
him and make love to him and just smile that gentle smile he
always
had when they saw each other at the end of a long day.
God,
he missed Garth and he was so worried...
He
wanted to know that Garth was safe. Even if he couldn't come
back,
even if he had to stay in Atlantis for the rest of his life—
just
so long as he was safe.
Ann,
Garth's assistant had been a help for a while. They had tried
to
support each other, but it was wearing thin. Neither of them
knew
anything,
neither of them knew what might happen. Once they had
gotten
past the obvious, they didn't have much to say to one another
and
so they had fallen apart pretty fast. They'd call every day or
two,
but it was always the same—no news.
Dick
had even been questioned by the State Department and the
Department
of Defense. They had wanted to know what he might have
been
told about the Atlantean defenses or their capabilities or
anything
that might be in any way useful. In fact he knew nothing
they
hadn't already heard. Garth would never divulge anything
classified
and little of anything else, not even to him.
Whatever
Garth brought home to work on had always been written in
Atlan
or encrypted. He never left anything lying around. He never
shared
anything about his work that went beyond pleasantries like
who
he'd had lunch with or that a speech seemed well received.
Garth
was too professional and too good to slip up like that.
Then
one day, almost two and a half weeks after the war had begun,
Dick
walked out of his precinct house to get lunch and saw the
man
watching
him from across the street.
He
followed Dick into the diner and sat, without being asked,
across
from
him in the booth. He was a tall man wearing a pair of khakis
and
a sports coat. He looked like he could be anyone.
He
was one of the men who had been in Garth's apartment at the
palace
a few days before. He had the letter the Prince had asked to
be
delivered.
"Forgive
me for my boldness. I thought it would be safer if I wasn't
waiting
outside your home." God, he had that accent. Dick loved
Garth's
accent.
"Do
I know you?"
"We
have a mutual friend. He's asked me to see that you get this."
He
slid the sealed envelope across the table.
He
put the envelope in his pocket without opening it. "Is our
friend
alright?"
"He
was two days ago, yes." The man got up to leave, smiling at
the
waitress.
"I don't think you'll have to contact me about that, but
if
you should have any questions, you can reach me at this number."
He
put a business card by Dick's glass of water.
The
card just had a name and a phone number written on it. Nothing
else.
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
The
man smiled, slightly. "Thank you, but I believe that we
have
things
under control, or will shortly." He walked out of the
diner.
Opening
the letter--which had been written on Garth's personal
stationary,
the stuff with the crest on the top--he saw immediately
that
it looked like Garth's handwriting. There was no mistaking it...
well,
probably not.
It
was dated a few days ago.
"Rob-
I'm
writing this in my chambers and you're not to worry about me.
I'm
fine. I'm unharmed.
You
are not to fear for my safety.
I
would like you to do something for me, though. Call Kal and
his
friends
and see how they are. I meant to talk to them but had to
leave
suddenly and never got the chance.
I
have some friends here who think that they may be able to
simplify
things
somewhat—I know they would like to try.
I
am hoping that things will be getting back to the same old
boredom
soon.
I
believe that, if giving the opportunity, my old co-workers
may
understand
that this is a misunderstanding that can be righted if
they'd
be willing to sit down about it when I get back to them.
I'm
looking forward to it in fact, though there may be some things I
have
to do here first, possibly with those old friends.
I
think about you often and hope you haven't forgotten about me
while
I've been gone.
With
regards,
G"
What
the fuc...?
OK,
he's under house arrest and wanted Dick to get the JLA to
intervene
and end this stupid war. Sure--that made sense. Bruce had
said
they'd been about ready to go in and see how nuts Arthur
really
was.
His
old co-workers--the UN, obviously. He wanted diplomatic help as
well.
He wanted to get back to the surface or somehow get a hold of
them
and make them understand that the Atlans wanted a cease fire-or
at
least a lot of them did.
Old
friends? Dick had no idea who the hell that could be except that
guy
who'd given him the letter couldn't be working alone and Garth
must
have trusted him enough to give him the letter.
An
internal coup? It sure as hell sounded like that.
If
he'd really written the letter.
That
was easy enough to check. He could do handwriting analysis and
see
what he could learn about the man he'd evidently entrusted to
deliver
the thing.
Five
minutes later he was talking to Bruce on the com link.
"Well,
it looks authentic to me, at any rate. The handwriting checks
out
and it's definitely Atlan paper and ink."
"Do
you think there's some sort of overthrow on their end
being
planned?"
"It
looks that way and they want JLA backup."
"Will
the JLA help?"
Bruce
was nothing if not decisive. "I'll talk to them, I'm sure
they
will.
Arthur can't be allowed to continue this insanity much longer.
The
surface nations are looking into ways to blow Posidonis out of
the
water." Bruce paused for a short moment. "You do realize
that if
Arthur
is removed then Garth is the next likely ruler down there—he
won't
be back up here."
"I
know. So does he. We'll deal with it."
"Alright
then. I'll call the JLA now." The line went dead.
Things
moved quickly after that. Almost too fast, judging by the
reports
that were filed later. Twenty-four hours later the JLA had
gotten
through the various security walls and made it through to the
palace
to find that things had, indeed been gotten under control.
They
walked into a situation that was essentially resolved. The JLA
hadn't
been needed after all and the announcement was broadcast over
almost
every station on the planet.
It
was Garth who spoke to the world.
He
was standing at a podium, calm, relaxed but professional and
in
obvious
command.
He
was introduced as His Imperial Majesty. Lord and Liege of
Atlantis
and all of her Protectorates and Dominions, King Garth'.
Like
almost everyone else on the planet with access to a TV, Dick
was
watching.
"I
would like to start by making clear to the surface nations
that
earlier
this morning I ordered all hostilities to cease immediately.
I
have recalled our forces and all blockades were ordered ended as
of
approximately one hour ago. All mines and bombs have been
ordered
disarmed.
No surface ships will in any way be hampered and should
there
still be any surface vessels in need of assistance of any
kind,
our people will extend any and all aid. Official confirmation
of
these orders has been sent to every nation's leader and to the UN
as
well. Full verification by whatever means are considered
acceptable
will be met.
I,
and the nation of Atlantis, want it understood this conflict
was
implemented
without warning, nor by general consent, by our former
national
leader, King Orin. Though he is essentially a good man and
has
been a capable and fair monarch for a number of years, it
became
increasingly
clear to many of us that he is suffering an illness
that
caused him to perceive threats where there were none. We moved
as
quickly as was possible to contain the situation.
He
was removed from authority last night and is at this moment,
unharmed
and being giving the medical attention he requires. Our
custom
dictates that no punitive punishment will be exacted on him.
He
acted only in what he thought to be the best interests of our
nation
and we will allow no war crime charges of any kind to be
leveled
against him.
The
loss of life which was a direct result of his orders are
something
which will remain a dark shame in our nation and one we
regret
deeply. I have ordered that restitution be made to any
families
who have suffered loss and while I'm under no illusion that
will
in any way make what has happened right, we will do what we can
to
ease the pain of those who have suffered.
Reparation
will also be made to any nation for financial losses they
may
have suffered at our hands; ships will be replaced, cargo will
be
paid for."
He
paused for a space of several seconds.
"On
a more personal note; I've lived and worked on the surface for
a number of years. Many of my closest friends—both personally
in
my own life and professionally in the diplomatic corps, are
landsmen
and the last few weeks have caused me tremendous anguish.
The
actions, this war are not things that Atlantis is proud of and
it
will be years—decades—before the damage is healed. I know
that
these
friends haven't understood what was happening and for that I
can
only offer my deepest apologies that they couldn't be told and
so
were forced to come to their own conclusions.
"There
is much to keep me here now, much to do, but as soon as my
duties
permit I intend to return to the surface, if only for a
visit,
to explain this all in person and in more detail.
"We,
the people of Atlantis still want to ally with the surface
nations.
I still believe that there's much we can do together and
will
do everything in my power to make that happen.
"Today,
we start to begin again."
Garth
faded out to be replaced by one of the network's talking
heads.
"...That
was extraordinary. I've never seen a head of state speak so
openly
and with so much seemingly genuine candor...We are getting
reports
that the blockades are indeed lifting, that ships are moving
freely
again...yes, another report that an Atlan ship in the Pacific
is
offering medical assistance to a damaged British destroyer..."
Dick
started dial twisting; it was the same of every channel. The
war
was really over.
Garth
was king.
The
computer chimed.
"Dick?
I have a secure relay call for you. You ready?"
"Sure.
Who is it?"
"Who
do you think?"
Of
course. The screen faded and reformed. "Garth. God—are you
really
OK?"
He looked so tired. He looked like he'd never slept in his
whole
life.
"I'm
fine. I wasn't hurt and now I'm, I guess that I'm fine. Arthur
had
to be sedated and he's still under restrain. It
was—difficult."
Garth
was king in Atlantis and he had a country to put back together
and
about fifty nations to placate. Dick could hardly ask when he
was
coming home. He was home. Atlantis was home for him now. "I—I
miss
you. I was worried and..." God, he was talking in trite
clichés.
"I
know. I, look, I can't come up to the surface for a while.
There's
too much to do here, but could you come down here? Would you
be
able to do that?"
He'd
swim if he had to. "Of course. When?"
"I'll
arrange a ship for you as soon as I can. I'll call your
State
Department;
ask them to let you travel. I think it's still forbidden
for
Americans."
"I'm
half Rom. I can travel on that passport." Anything, just so
he
could
see for himself that Garth was alright and touch him, hold
him
again.
"Good."
He paused again. He looked so damn tired. "I need you
here."
"...As
your consort?"
"As
my friend and lover. I'll order the ship now. It will be there
by
morning. And Rob? Plan on staying for a while."
6/1/04