At last, the time had come. Tongana shifted, her fingers tugging at the tight formal dress that Venus for All had insisted the women wear. They had even managed to get Hengsha to wear one. Mazda only knew how they had convinced her.
Now it was happening. Here in the Venusian United Nations auditorium, they stood behind an ocean of polished-wood benches that stretched down the twenty-meter slope to the beautifully lit stage in the sunken center of the room. Tongana could hear high heels clacking on the floor above her, where another bank of benches overlooked the stage.
Tongana had once gone on leave in a rich city and gone to the theater, and now this auditorium brought back memories of it. From the hot, stuffy air to the heavy yet gentle lighting all across the walls, even the unnerving way the thick carpet muffled her footsteps, this place felt exactly the same. The only difference was the people. Instead of businesspeople and the sons and daughters of the middle class, the benches were now packed with politicians and magnates, all dressed in the same stark, feminine black. Even the men, who comprised almost a quarter of them, were dark and slick. Some looked bored, and a few were even browsing on their projectors, but the important thing was that they were here. They were here to listen to Venus for All's case for intervention, and if the presentation, which was starting to feel more like a performance, went well enough, then help would come to Bonde Wakulima, funded by the most powerful governments on the planet.
In a foreign place, wearing clothes she wasn't used to and surrounded by people she had never met, Tongana felt like she was back on her first day of deployment in the Atanuan Colonial Peacekeeping Force.
Down on the stage, at center of the semicircle-shaped room, stood a well-groomed man, mature, handsome and poised. He finished his opening speech, saying, "It is my distinct honor to present to you our Acting First Secretary, Avina Volta."
Tongana recognized that name. According to Doctor Ortiz, Volta was on their side.
The man sank into the background. Polite applause rattled off the slick walls and the high roof as an ancient South American woman stepped carefully onto the stage and took the podium. For one moment, she paused, almost as if she had forgotten what she had come to say. Suddenly, her voice boomed out from a dozen speakers at once, "My friends. When the first colonists arrived here in the north, three hundred years ago, they had a vision. A vision of a Venus united, full of prosperity and wellness." She stood up straighter. "And for the last three centuries, we have done well. Through determination, talent and raw Venusian spirit, we are now the pinnacle of civilization!" A wave of applause rose in response, and the First Secretary took a deep breath as it subsided. "But," she said starkly, "Not all of the planet enjoys the same luxuries as we do. Every day, millions of Venusians on the equator live in squalor, going day to day without the comforts that we take for granted. As if that were not enough, one little town in Tahna Planitia has experienced a catastrophe. And now, friends, they have come to us for help. We will hear their case now."
The man materialized again. Swallowing and taking a quick breath, he said, "It is my distinct honor to present the head of the Metis Regio chapter of Venus for All, Doctor Amanda Ortiz."
Applause babbled through the air again, and Doctor Ortiz strutted onto the stage in a dress even more ostentatious than the others', made of some iridescent grey material colored with graded grey vertical stripes. If not for the introduction, Tongana would not have recognized her. She began a long-winded lecture, which seemed to deal more with the sufferings of the western continent than those of Bonde Wakulima.
Tongana smirked, leaned over to Hengsha's ear and whispered, "That dress makes her look like a beetle."
"Yeah..." said Hengsha. "Shouldn't we be up on that stage instead?"
Tongana sighed. "Yes. Yes, we should."
"You don't like them, do you?"
"No." Tongana's frown hardened. "I don't trust them one bit."
"So? Just keep your gun to her head, and she won't cross you."
"We can't exactly do that."
"Then why are we dealing with them? Morgan said this is how you got started with the CSF."
"When you've run out options-"
"Look! Look!" Hengsha's arm shot forward. "It's me!"
On the stage, Dr. Ortiz had stepped aside, and a house-sized projection dominated the screen behind her. In spectacularly sharp resolution, the screen showed Hengsha sitting at the interview table, rendered stark against the sanitary white background of the interviewing room. At the bottom of the screen, serious golden font spelled out the name, 'Cloudy Hengsha: Former Child Soldier.'
"They just teach you to kill everything," said Hengsha, on the screen. "Your war-mother teaches you everything. She feeds you, she orders you, and if she thinks you deserve it, she gives you your gun. When she tells you to kill, you kill. You don't get to question it."
The camera cut back to Dr. Ortiz, saying, "Typically, this type of violence is restricted to the western continent. Girls are kidnapped, then indoctrinated with this primitive warrior culture. It's a vicious cycle that only we can end."
Another cut returned to Hengsha saying, "Most of the new girls are born in the clan. We're not like the Mauves. As long as you're part of the clan, you're allowed to get pregnant whenever you want, so we all have lots of daughters. But whenever we conquered someplace, we'd take in all the girls who were young enough. Blue Stoli was like that. She was the meanest of the group, easy. She wanted to prove she wasn't soft like other outsiders."
An unfamiliar South American appeared on the screen, captioned as 'Ineza Descoto, sociologist.' "They sustain themselves off the rich natural resources of the Venusian frontier," she said, in a rough accent. "It's a cycle that will not stop itself. But a few military defeats can break the clan the structure."
"It takes more than a few," grumbled Tongana.
"No, really, just a few," Hengsha mumbled back. "As soon as your clan's lost three or four battles in a row, there'll be talk that you're weak. The other clans will tear you apart."
"...the third world," boomed the first secretary, using the old Earth term, "is not a world apart. Friends, this cannot go on! I call on the council to send in the troops!"
Above and all around, the crowd erupted, not with polite applause, but with real passion. Some of them even stood up. Tongana looked around, baffled. Why are they doing this? What selfish reason could they possibly have to care about us?
She felt a soft punch on her side, looked and saw Hengsha grinning up at her. "It's happening."
"It is," Tongana sighed. "Still, I smell a rat."
Hengsha gave her another smack. "Would you perk up? Yeah, we can't trust them, but stop whining about it. Either let them come over or tell them to go soak themselves."
Tongana's first thought was to shut her down,then she remembered that Hengsha was a veteran too; she deserved respect."I suppose you're right. We've made our choice." She took a deepbreath. "Whatever happens next, one thing's certain. We've just signed theCSF's death warrant."
