Conference at Ticonderoga

by J. Brice Odom

 

The bright sun passed through the large, tinted windows to create an artificial dimness. Josiah shuffled the papers in the folder he was carrying as he paced in irregular patterns across the atrium floor. He had a couple pieces of paper rolled up and grasped tightly in his hand. The paper had some scribbled notes on it. Occasionally, he would stop and look out the big window and hit his knee a few times with the paper.

 

When he looked out long enough above the city stretched far and wide around him, he felt incredibly small. The tower stretched so far into the heavens that buildings below had little discernable detail. He could see the uneven blocks of structures in which people lived, worked, and died. It was a similar experience when he saw a planet from an orbiting spaceship, but no feeling of divine, rather dirt. The tower contained every level and department of Ticonderoga’s government. From the treasury offices to the head of sanitation. Everything ran through here. 

 

This conference room level was given to him for the day. He was staring out trying to focus on what he needed to say to this person and that person. He hadn’t heard the person behind him until the man coughed. Josiah turned to see him in an impeccable suit. It was dark, navy blue with a circular lapel pin on the lapel.

 

The man in the suit smiled, “Rest easy, Josiah.” He almost laughed as he approached the nervous man. “What happens will happen. You can’t worry about that. Be here and now.”

 

Josiah exhaled as he gave a fragile smile in return, “You always were a stoic, Ezekiel.”

 

“Meh, it helps. I didn’t get to be Superintendent of Ticonderoga by sweating every little problem that might happen. You’ve been working for this conference ever since you made it out of the Battle of Buktu alive. A united humanity. Did you even think you’d get this far?”

 

“If I’m honest, not really.”

 

“Then today’s already a success.”

 

“But it could be more. It needs to be more. Has anyone else arrived yet?”

 

“Sir Nelson from Berlin arrived yesterday morning, and Marshall Prior from Dublin shortly after.”

 

“Good the two most important voices from the outer planets. Anyone from the inner planets other than us here?”

 

“General Castor from Sacramento arrived late last night. Saratoga’s ship should arrive today. They haven’t arrived, but they’ve confirmed they’re coming in a message yesterday.”

 

“Good. This whole thing is a wash without us three.” 

 

“The dignitaries from the smaller worlds from Mid Space landed a couple days ago. But don’t expect Bangkok, Cuzco, and Bengal ambassadors to come up here until after they talk to General Castor or whoever Saratoga has sent.”

 

“They’ll follow the crowd.”

 

“Yep. I know. I’ve said this a million times already, but for your idea to have any hope, you have to get Saratoga on board. Without them, no one else will join.”

 

“I know.”

 

The Superintendent grabbed Josiah’s shoulders and looked him directly in the eye. “You need Saratoga’s money and ships. No one else will do this without them, and that includes me.”

 

“I got it, Ezekiel.”

 

The Superintendent slapped him on the shoulder and gave him a smile when the ding of the elevator signaled the arrival of the first dignitary. It was Sir Nelson of Berlin.

 

“Sir Nelson, I am glad the Knights of Orion decided to come personally.”

 

“The Order is intrigued by your proposal and since we both fought at the Battle of Buktu against the invasion, the elders thought I would be a worthy representative.” They exchanged a hardy handshake.

 

The three had small talk until the others arrived. Next came the delegates from Dublin and Bangkok. They joined the conversation. The tone was friendly, but everyone was cautious not to say too much.

 

Cuzco’s and Bengal’s representatives came in with the delegate from Sacramento, General Castor. The Superintendent gave Josiah a knowing glance as the three came in. They gave a handshake to their hosts but moved to the large windows without further conversation. They continued to huddle and whisper. Sir Nelson was talking to the ambassador from Dublin while the Bangkok delegate went to talk with the one from Sacramento.

 

“What do you think, Ezekiel?”

 

“Well, they are taking you seriously. The ambassador from Sacramento is their highest ranked general and their president’s closest advisor. What he says here will matter and what he says when he gets home will actually be listened to.”

 

Josiah listened to the analysis silently. He squeezed the roll of paper in his hand again.

 

The Superintendent looked around the room and then at his watch. “The only question is where is the man from Saratoga? He should be here already. We’ll need to move them into the Conference Room shortly. We don’t want them to think we are beholden to Saratoga.”

 

Josiah went up to the delegates and invited them to move into the adjacent room with the long, ovular table at which they would sit. There were small flags of their planets at designated seats. Each took their place.

 

The Superintendent waited a beat after they sat and then stood himself. “Gentleman, thank you all for coming today. This is indeed an important day for us all. A conference of all of our planets has not been held in seventy-three years and not a moment too soon. The events of recent years have shown us all that there are grave threats beyond. Attacks on planets in the outer regions and on Buktu Station shows these are not just raiding attacks on our outer edge, but a threat to us all. Captain Barton has brought a proposal that I think is an idea worthy of our best aspirations. Humans on all worlds working together for our safety, prosperity, and future. Captain, the room is yours.”

 

Josiah stood and shook his leader’s hand. The Superintendent sat. Now all eyes were on the Captain and his rolled-up notes. He looked at each face. They were a mixture of curiosity and skepticism and hope. He took a deep breath and unrolled his notes. Just as he opened his mouth to begin, the doors burst open.

 

A man in a dark, burnt orange suit stood framed in the doorway with his arms spread wide. He wore a huge smile. His jacket stretched to his knees and billowed as he moved with sure steps toward the table. “I’m so sorry I’m late, gentleman. We had trouble checking into the hotel, but I am Judd Arnold, Assistant Chief of Staff of the Minister of Finance, and Saratoga’s ambassador to today’s proceedings. We’re honored for the invitation and intrigued. I hope I’ve not missed anything.”

 

With hardly concealed annoyance, the Superintendent encouraged the loud man to sit. “Just the pleasantries. Saratoga is right on time.” He signaled to Josiah to continue.

 

Josiah looked for a friendly face. Sir Nelson gave him a nod. It was the confidence he needed to walk through his plan. He began. He talked about lowering trade barriers between planets. He talked about a committee that could coordinate needed supplies between planets to prevent famine and suffering. He talked about the increased cooperation of each world’s military to respond to any threat.

 

“If we can do this we can create a realm of human space that will allow all of us to thrive and give opportunity to individuals on even the smallest planet.”

 

Saratoga’s ambassador coughed.

 

“Yes ambassador? You have the first question?”

“I assume that last bit was a knock on us. A compelling presentation, Captain, but bringing the incident on Hudson into this was uncalled for.”

 

Josiah stumbled over words, then the Dublin ambassador shouted. “You took over an entire planet.”

 

“If we weren’t there, Hudson would have fallen.”

 

Before insults went flying, Josiah found a firm voice. “We are not talking about the past and I didn’t mean to imply anything. Let us talk about the plan.”

 

The Dublin ambassador sat back with an exhale, and the Saratogan leaned back with a smug smile. The Sacramento delegate asked about the plan for moving surplus supplies for relief.

 

Josiah jumped into talking about the structure of a committee with representatives from each planet. The Cuzco ambassador followed up with a question about asking about the formula for how much each planet should contribute. Now in the heat of the battle, Josiah did not have tremor in his voice. He knew his plan and was fielding their questions with authority and confidence. 

 

General Castor of Sacramento spoke up, “So the fuel we harvest beneath our waters is just going to be shipped out?”

 

“Not all of it, but some of it. Keeping power on means that defense systems won’t fail. It means harvests can be processed. The threat of hunger is as much a threat to all of our security as a warship.”

 

Judd Arnold scoffed. “Preposterous.”

 

General Castor looked at the colorful man across the table, “I have questions, but why are you so dismissive?”

 

“The only thing that ensures safety is weapons and big enough ships. Everything else is window dressing for theft.”

 

Josiah hopped right into the mix. “Look, Ambassador Arnold, if people are going hungry, if their needs aren’t met, then they will be perfectly fine with cutting a deal with whoever will make them an offer that takes care of those needs, even enemies. It’s in the inner-planets interests to help fill in gaps to prevent desperation.”

 

With a wave of his hand, Judd Arnold signaled to just move on.

 

The Bangkok representative asked about tariff negotiations. Josiah explained how there would be another committee to coordinate tariff rates.

 

Another dismissive laugh from Judd Arnold. He looked around and muttered to no one in particular, “Another committee.”

 

Josiah looked at him. “Ambassador Arnold, do you have a question?”

 

He put his hand up in a mock concern. “Who me? Oh no not about this.”

 

“What questions do you have?” 

 

“We in Saratoga are most concerned with this plan’s military provisions. We are doing more than anyone, but who is going to step up and help us? Not a single one of you.”

 

“We all stood together at Buktu.” Sir Nelson leaned forward with his hands together on the table. 

 

“The Knights may be the best soldiers in the outer planets. We’ve a small number of capital ships to protect Berlin, and fighters that can assist protecting merchant ships, but we don’t have the resources to patrol space lanes…if you can call what Saratoga does patrolling.”

 

Judd Arnold’s fist hit the table. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“Setting aside what you did at Hudson, anytime a trade ship from Berlin encounters a Saratoga capital ship, they’re made to pay a fine.”

 

“It’s a toll.” Ambassador Arnold rolled his eyes.

 

“Whatever it is you want to call it, you force them to fork over money for a space lane that they we have been using for generations.” Sir Nelson’s volume was on the rise.

 

“Without the tolls we can’t be out there. How else are we paying the crews to protect you?”

 

“We didn’t ask for your protection!”

 

General Castor inserted a comment, “Neither did we, but before we lose the point. Joint operations will allow us to respond to any attack faster. We see this as the easiest part of the proposal to get behind.”

 

Judd Arnold practically laughed in his face. “So, you are begging for our ships to come bail you out too?”

 

The General straightened his back. “We don’t need you to bail us out.”

 

“And we don’t need your help either, so what are we doing here? All we know about these attackers is that they can be beaten. Every time. So, far we’ve done it without being ruled by any of you.”

 

Josiah stepped in, “That’s why I’m proposing this committee system. We’re helping each other, but not ruling each other. We have strengths, talents, and resources. If we talk, just keep talking, we can make our defenses better. We can make our lives better. All of our lives better.”

 

Judd Arnold, for once didn’t look performative, but genuinely confused as his nose scrunched up and his eyes narrowed. He raised an eyebrow. “Our lives are already good.”

 

His hands on the table, Josiah looked down and exhaled deeply and replied without looking up. “If you’re unable to care about people beyond your own world, if you’re that short sighted, then I’m not sure what else I can tell you today.”

 

Judd’s confusion seemed to dissipate to anger, “You’ve been allowed to get this far because you’re the cousin of the Superintendent. Don’t pretend that we owe you anything.”

 

General Castor chimed in, “Tensions may be running a bit hot, but we think this plan merits further discussion. I will need to take it back to Sacramento to discuss it with our government.”

 

Sir Nelson spoke up, with his eyes on the Saratoga Ambassador, “We on Berlin are very interested in this proposal and want to continue these discussions.”

 

The Superintendent nodded his approval. “We are also interested to continue this conversation. We are happy to continue to find a way of ensuring better security and abundance for all human worlds.”

 

The delegates from Cuzco, Bangkok, and Bengal all spoke similar sentiments.

 

All eyes now were on Judd Arnold who sounded almost robotic. “Saratoga understands the desires of the others to continue conversations along these lines. We will grant our curiosity to see if any agreement can be reached to all of our mutual benefit, but we only demand that the next meeting shall be held on Saratoga. You are clearly asking much from us, so we believe that it is only fair that our next congress shall be held there.”

 

Josiah smiled. Saratoga had not tanked the project after all. “Of course.”

 

The others murmured agreement. The conference broke up and Josiah and Ezekial were left alone.

 

Josiah looked at his cousin, “Do you think Saratoga will go for this in the end?”

 

“Josiah, who did they send to meet with us?”

 

“The Assistant Chief of Staff to the Minister of Finance.”

 

“Precisely.”

 

“I don’t get it?”

 

“If Saratoga was taking even the smallest part of your idea seriously, the Minister would have come himself. That’s why they sent the Assistant Chief of Staff. Saratoga can say they tried, but they’re never going to say yes to all this. I’ll be shocked if we meet again.”

 

“But if they already don’t care, why did they demand to host the next conference?”

 

“If they are in charge of the next meeting, then they ensure it never happens.”

 

“But they have so much to gain. We all have so much to gain.”

 

“Saratoga sees it as too much to lose.”

 

“So…”

 

“Your utopia is already dead.”

 

The two men, shoulders slouched, left the room quietly with the galaxy as broken as when they started the day.