Later Tasnican historians would describe the era as the Age of Great Progress, an assessment one of the Prime Ministers of that time, Wulf Stokkan. Wulf, looking out from atop a balcony of the Magnificent Lighthouse in Tasnicaport, couldnÕt help but be stunned at all the achievements attained two centuries since Belgememnon. The massive, stone lighthouse on which he stood, the full-rigged ships in the harbor that gave the fledgling Republic dominion over the worldÕs seas, and, turning to face North (which Wulf could see in his mindÕs eye), the vastly expanded territory.

       Smiling, he entered the main chamber at the top of the lighthouse. Although the lighthouse was functional, this was the place were great ceremonies and parties were held. This month was the festival for Dryad, the elemental of the trees, and the room was layered in ivy and trees. The place was offensively green. There were people moving as a mass, and it was hard to distinguish them. Since bathing was not a common practice at the time, it was hot, and it stank. But it also had many of the RepublicÕs leading lights, who had gotten in the habit of getting together for these parties in the Magnificent Lighthouse. Stokkan approached mathematician Gottfried Beckwitz, who was wearing a simpl,e tunic rather than the more regal clothing of the Prime Minister.

       ÒHow are things progressing in the field of mathematics today, Beckwitz?Ó asked the Prime Minister.

       Beckwitz, a lithe, bearded old man with bright eyes, nodded enthusiastically. ÒMy work with matrices has yielded great resultsÉI believe very large matrices could be used to model very complicated systems.Ó

       ÒThat will surely prove useful,Ó said Stokkan.

       Beckwitz frowned. ÒUnfortunately, no human could possibly complete the necessary computationsÉ.perhaps if one had a Ôthinking machineÕ of some kindÉÓ and the math manÕs voice trailed off. ÒSo, it seems, for now at least, my work with matrices has come to an endÉI am however discovering fascinating possibilities arising from work relating to determining the area under a curve.Ó

       ÒFascinating,Ó said the Prime Minister, not because he was terribly interested in math, but because he was pleased at the cultural and scientific renaissance taking place in Tasnica. ÒHave you seen my esteemed Royalist colleague, the Proconsul?Ó asked Stokkan. ÒI believe I heard he was looking for me.Ó

       ÒI thought I saw him talking with Muhe earlier,Ó said the mathematician.

       ÒThank you. Good luck with everything,Ó said Stokkan, and walked through the artificial jungle to the philosopher Ernst Muhe, who was arguing with a man from Krace named Orus.

       ÒGreetings, Mr. Prime Minister,Ó said Muhe, smiling. Orus was shocked that one was not required to kneel or bow upon meeting the leader of the Tasnican nation, but he gave a kurt head nod, for his own benefit. In Krace, if not in Tasnica, it was important to show proper respect for authority.

       Orus said, ÒThis fine philosopher of yoursÑÒ

       Stokkan shook his head. ÒHeÕs not mine, heÕs his own. Or the RepublicÕs, if you prefer.Ó

       Orus sighed. He felt distinctly out of place in his foreign garments; he was one of the only people at this party wearing pants. The Tasnicans, after all, were not a horse culture. OrusÕs short, curly hair and clean-shaven face also marked him as a foreigner. Although fluent in Tasnikanze (and most educated Tasnicans could speak Kracian fairly well), he couldnÕt help but wonder if anything other than religion united them with these people. ÒAnyway, Herr Muhe and I were arguing about the nature of knowledge. I contend that reason is the main source of human knowledgeÑÒ

ÒOnly our senses and experience can be trusted,Ó interrupted Muhe. ÒThis so-called rationalism is a pure fantasy.Ó

ÒOur senses can be deceived,Ó said Orus. ÒFor surely have you not heard of a man in the desert, seeing a false oasis?Ó
       
       ÒThe Kakkarans speak of such tings,Ó agreed Muhe, Òhowever, for us to be having this argument, it is necessary to concede that my senses are functioning well enough to hear you, and that yours are functioning well enough to hear me.Ó

       Stokkan couldnÕt help but wonder if there was really a point to all this. Although he dabbled a bit in political philosophy, questions of metaphysics and epistemology did not interest the Prime Minister. After all, none of those ideas were powerful enough to build a nation on.

       ÒRecently a Tasnican physicist claimed that a force of attraction exists between all objects with mass,Ó said Orus. Orus removed a coin from his pouch, and dropped it. ÒWould you contend that the fact that an object falls every time is mere coincidence?Ó

       Muhe shrugged. ÒSure,Ó he said. ÒYou canÕt know that it will fall for certain; you can only know with a very high probability that it will fall. There is a chance it might zing to the side, or even fly off into space.Ó

       ÒYou canÕt know that it will,Ó said Orus.

       ÒPrecisely,Ó said Muhe, Òand I canÕt know that it wonÕt, either.Ó

       This was about enough for Stokkan, and he asked the philosophers, ÒHave you seen Proconsul Heinkel? I heard he was talking to you later.Ó

       ÒHeÕs not very happy with you,Ó said Muhe.

       ÒI imagine not,Ó said Stokkan. ÒThat is why I would like to speak with him.Ó

       ÒHe was going to speak with the Hauptmann Principle, I think,Ó said Muhe. ÒHeÕs worried about this coming war.Ó

       ÒThere might not be a war if the Doge of Centwerp would free their Tasnikanze slaves,Ó said the Prime Minister.

       ÒSlave of Tasnikanze extraction,Ó insisted Orus, well aware than some of the Kracian Khans also held Ôslaves of Tasnikanze extraction.Õ

       ÒNo Tasnican shall be made slave,Ó said Stokkan, ÒitÕs right there in the Code of Belgememnon. And IÕm not about to allow the descendents of slaves captured before the Republic to remain in chains.Ó A large transverse crest of feathers on a helmet caught StokkanÕs eye; it was clear that the helmet rested on a man at least a foot taller than the rest. The feathers were clearly those of an eagle; only Hauptmanner were allowed to were them, and at this function, there was a good bet that that was the Hauptmann Principal . The Hauptmanner were long-service military professionals; though every male Tasnican was expected to have some degree of proficiency in combat, it was the chain-mail clad Hauptmanner who turned the citizen soldiers into an army, and since Belgememnon has abolished the title of War Leader, it was the Hauptmann Principal who was, in effect, the Head Head Man. The current Hauptmann Principal was called Feygar Akesson, and he was one of the very few in Tasnica to still follow the old religion of Aesimond and worship the war god Zahd. According to legend, he was descended from a Valkyrie, and looking upon the stout, muscular warrior it was easy for Stokkan to believe, especially as the soldier stood across from the relatively diminutive Proconsul.

       Stokkan approached the Hauptmann, and as he approached Proconsul Heinkel interrupted his conversation with Akesson and focused on Stokkan.

       ÒMr. Prime Minister,Ó said Heinkel, Òthe good Hauptmann, here, was just telling me about the defenses that await us if we embark on the foolish and disgraceful course you and your Conservative Party seem intend on pursuing.Ó

       The soldier nodded. ÒCentwerp is the wealthiest, most prosperous city on the continent. The Doge himself is a clever commander, and has managed to prevent the Pan Dore horseclans from moving any farther west.Ó

       ÒOne out of every five people under the rule of the Doge is a slave,Ó said Prime Minister Stokkan.

       ÒThatÕs not our problem,Ó shrugged Proconsul Heinkel. ÒWe need to focus inwardly. We have adequate military resources to defend ourselves; I donÕt see the need for this sort of adventurism.Ó

       ÒI would use the term idealism,Ó countered Stokkan.

       ÒOf course you would,Ó said Heinkel, condescendingly. ÒWe need to preserve TasnicaÕs cultural integrity and solidarity. Do you realize Senator Bestl doesnÕt even speak Tasnikanze? Unless measures are taken, Tasnikanze might not be spoken in Tasnica anymore.Ó

       ÒIf we are still a Republic, does it matter?Ó asked Stokkan. ÒIn fact, the ideals of the Code should stand for everyone. Democracy should not uniquely benefit us alone.Ó

       ÒAnd you are prepared to use the sword to spread it?Ó asked Heinkel.

       ÒA free society must be willing to use force in the name of the values of liberty,Ó said Stokkan.

       ÒIf you Conservatives end up in charge, the term Tasnican will have no meaning. What about our people?Ó

       Stokkan smiled; he did not believe the Royalists would maintain their hold on the Senate for long. Although their talk of cultural integrity and solidarity might earn them some points, he did not believe their call to have a King to serve as a national symbol and unifier would work. ÒYou Royalists want a Tasnica thatÕs always the same, thatÕs homogenous; but the Republic would benefit many peoples. I want a cosmopolitan Tasnica with many different races.Ó

       ÒHow much is enough?Ó asked the Proconsul.

       Stokken smiled, slightly, and muttered to himself, Òall in creation.Ó

       ÒWhat say you, Hauptmann?Ó asked Stokkan. ÒThe zeal of the ideals of the Republic wedded to martial prowess has allowed us to triumph so far. Can we defeat Centwerp?Ó

       The Hauptmann stroked his beard, and took a sip of the special, spicy beer prepared in honor of Dryad. ÒI believe we can,Ó he said, simply. ÒNumbers.Ó Because of the fervor in the heady days of the early years of the free society, the Tasnica Republic could almost always count on crushing numerical superiority, as thousands of citizen soldiers would answer any call.

       ÒIf you really are going to send us to war with the rest of the Web, at least consider the proposals for a full-strength, standing professional army,Ó argued Heinkel.

       ÒThatÕs the worst idea IÕve ever heard,Ó said Stokkan. ÒIf you give the government an army, itÕs bound to use it, possibly against its own people. An armed citizenry is better. When the people fear the government, there is tyranny, but when the government fears the people, there is justice.Ó

       The DogeÕs brother, who was CentwerpÕs emissary to Tasnica, approached the Proconsul, the Prime Minister, and the Hauptmann Principal. His name was Vorian Selecus, and his clothes were made of fine fabric and weaved with gold and silver. His hair was long, carefully coifed, and he was heavily perfumed.

       The Tasnicans thought that he looked like a woman. A well-dressed slave served as VorianÕs interpreter; someone highborn, like the brother of the Doge, was not supposed to have a base tongue like Tasnikanze pass his lips. Vorian said some words in Ingrish, which was a the current lingua franca of the continental interior.

       The slave translated to Tasnikanze. ÒThe Doge is pleased to present Tasnica with a great gift on this special day of Dryad.Ó The slave girl was well-maintained, and had a look with red hair and green eyes the men of Centwerp must have found exotic. Stokkan guessed that translation was not her only duty.

       It was the proper place of the Prime Minister, as chosen representative of the Republic for dealing with other countries, to make reply. ÒWhat gifts has he sent?Ó he asked, addressing Vorian directly, in Ingrish.
       
       Vorian replied in Ingrish, and the slave girl still translated, presumably for the benefit of the Proconsul and Hauptmann. (Who, in fact, both spoke Ingrish anyway.) ÒTen thousand good horses, five thousand gold talents, ten thousand silver talents, ten thousand excellent quality pearlsÉÓ

       The Prime Minister waved his hand dismissively, and spoke in Ingrish. ÒI donÕt want these gifts. If the Doge really wished to honor Dryad, he would have submitted to my ultimatum and freed the slaves.Ó

       The Proconsul spoke to the Prime Minister in Tasnikanze. ÒThe Doge will probably take this as a great insult.Ó

       Vorian could only scratch his head as Stokkan muttered a one word reply in Tasnikanze, a word even Vorian knew: ÒGut.Ó

       Vorian blushed. ÒI am giving a speech at the Senate in a few weeks,Ó said Stokkan, Òyour attendance would be valuable.Ó

       Vorian nodded at this slight compliment, and then slouched away, his slave falling him.

       ÒI look forward to that speech as well, Mr. Prime Minister,Ó said Proconsul Heinkel. ÒI trust you will pursue a wise course.Ó

       ÒI will pursue one consistent with our values and ideals,Ó said the Prime Minister, smiling cryptically.

       The Senate was a large, circular marble building in those days; but the preserved arch that served as the entrance was preserved. Stokken took the inscribed slogan on that arch to heart: Ohne Freiheit, Nichts. Without freedom, nothing.

       The Prime Minister stood at the base of the main chamber, looking up at the assembled Senators. On the Right were seated die Konservativen ; on the left, die Royalisten . In the front row were seated ambassadors and emissaries, honored guests including Vorian and his slave girl.

       Stokkan began his speech, speaking, of course, in Tasnikanze. ÒII Guarantee of the Code of Belgememnon is powerful because of its simple, clear, language. It says, unequivocally, ÔNo Tasnican shall be made slave.Õ In the time of Belgememnon, it was common practice to raid villages for slaves, to enslave defeated populations, and to buy slaves from the Upperlands.

       ÒSome of BelgememnonÕs detractors say that he only instituted this because the Tasnikanze were often taken as slaves. But as I would not be a slave, so would I not be a master. Whatever differs from this is no democracy. Despite more than a few successful military campaigns, we have not made the defeated peoples our slaves. In fact, they have become integrated, and in time have made worthy members of the Republic. Our esteemed Proconsul, for example, is from Norfrest, a kingdom conquered by Belgememnon himself.

       ÒThere are many countries in this world, and there are more rulers. But the Khans of Kracia, the nobles of the Ingrish Alliance, and the Arch Druid of the Holy Pan Dore Empire are not chosen by the people as the Prime Minister of the Tasnica Republic is. These rulers only rule for themselves; the Republic must rule for all of its people.

       ÒAnd because we are a democratic Republic our interests are not defined in the narrow notion of power,Ó said Stokkan. Òour national interest is also defined by the best thing in us, the principles and ethics of the Republic. And one of our must fundamental principles is that slavery is wrong.Ó And here Stokkan cast a quick glance at Vorian and his slave girl, just enough to get across, this means you .

       ÒThe Doge of Centwerp, a principality of the Ingrish Alliance, rules over one of the wealthiest cities in the world. Centwerp sits on the junction of several key rivers. Only Tasnicaport rivals its prosperity. But this wealth is squandered in the hands of a small elite; large numbers of people under the DogeÕs rule are slaves, and many more live under feudal serfdom that is little better.

       ÒAlthough I only recently learned of this, several weeks ago, during the festival to honor Dryad, hundreds of slaves in Centwerp revolted to try to gain their freedom. They were put down, and butchered.   Their children were sealed in bags and tied to stones and drowned in the River Dogon. They were lucky. The Doge wished to experiment with new methods used in the Holy Pan Dore Empire.Ó Stokkan paused, making sure to get the foreign word correct, Ò Crucifixion is the term. They were nailed to an upright cross until their own body weight suffocated them. This took a few days; birds and dogs ate of them when they were still alive.Ó

       The Senators were properly revolted. The Tasnica Republic did not even kill its own citizenry; they could not stomach such barbarism.

       ÒGentlemen, I have hard the arguments in this chamber, and many of you call for peace. But what good is peace with such a man?Ó

       Royalists and Conservatives alike were energized. Motivated. There was already a chant beginning. Krieg, krieg, kriegÉ .

       ÒAny peace is useless if we must surrender our ideals,Ó said Stokkan. ÒI have heard all the arguments; an army of citizens cannot be used without debate. And I know that I speak for the People of the Republic of Tasnica when I say that slavery in the world must come to an end, even if we must use the axe and spear of the Republic to do it. I hereby order the Hauptmanner to rally the armies.Ó

       The Seantors applauded, and cheered, and stood up.

       Stokkan looked down at the pale-faced Vorian, and said one word in Tasnikanze he would surely know. Krieg.

       Prime Minister Stokkan didnÕt like this setting, but he knew it was considered neutral territory. Making the trek north was a difficult journey, and ascending the mountain was even more difficult. The camp was   Spartan, even though many of the worldÕs rulers would be present, and they lacked much in the way of conveniences on the desolate mountaintop. From here it was possible to see all the rugged land of Mandala, and a few hundred feet down the mountain was a large glacier, moving slowly, inexorably onward.

       Despite his lion furs, Stokkan was cold, but he could console himself with one thing: he was the victor, here. The Doge and Vorian both came, pale white and afraid for their lives, ready to have the terms of their surrender dictated to them. Representatives from the Ingrish Alliance princes, who had ineffectually tried to protect Centwerp from the Tasnicans. The Kracian Khans, once representative of the finest civilization in the world but now in decline.

       What interested Stokkan the most was the Arch Druid of the Holy Pan Dore Empire. He inspired awe in the other rulers, and only Stokkan dared look him in the eye. The Arch Druid was rumored to have access to extremely powerful magic, relating to the Pan DoreÕs monotheistic Earth Mother religion. Someday, Stokkan knew, Republican zeal would inevitably clash with Imperial magic, a contest that could determine the ruler of the whole world.

       But now he was sitting across the Doge on a small table in the middle of nowhere. The middle of nowhere, the only place considered safe for a gathering of so many important personages.

       The beautiful red-haired woman was now free, and a citizen of the Republic. The Doge and his brother were sure to recognize her, so Stokkan made sure she was present to translate. He hoped that the people of Centwerp understood the value of a good insult.

       The Tasnicans had swept over Centwerp like a tsunami. Even more citizens responded to the call than Stokkan had anticipated. And they fought with a near-religious fanaticism, a fervent belief in freedom and democracy powering them to success over CentwerpÕs mercenaries.

       ÒThe Doge admits that Centwerp is now part of the Tasnica Republic,Ó said the translator.

       ÒI am pleased he is not so far divorced from reality,Ó said StokkanÑin Tasnikanze.

       ÒMainly, he is concerned about his own fate,Ó she said. ÒHe points out that when the Duchess Hegtha was captured by the Pan Dore a few years ago, the Arch Druid merely placed her under house arrest and she lived in considerable luxury.Ó

       ÒI should remind him that when Khan Exadius defeated Khan Macar last year, Macar and his whole family were ritually disembowled.Ó

       The Doge turned pale, and spoke back frantically.

       ÒThe Doge insists that such barbaric practices are unique to the Woldheim continent. Surely between peoples of the Euser continent things are different.Ó

       Stokkan smiled. ÒOf course. I believe I will be happy with imprisoning the two of you in a cage and parading you through the streets of Tasnicaport.Ó

       This was small consolation. Among Tasnicans, humiliation was considered worse than death.

       ÒThose are the terms, and we are the conquering army,Ó shrugged Stokkan. ÒCheer up. Your people are free, even if we had to do it for you.Ó Stokkan got up to leave, but he heard a large shout for his name.

       A young nobleman was sprinting over to the Prime Minister, and when he arrived in one hurried breath he said, ÒI demand a guarantee of my territory. With your capture of Centwerp, you have my small fiefdom pinned against the Pan Dore, the River Dogon, and the ocean. I assure you, it is of no interest to you; merely some farmers. Simple folk. Why, I am considered the least important noble in the Ingrish Alliance!Ó

       This must be an insignificant noble; he was speaking Tasnikanze to the Prime Minister. No true noble would let the lower language course through his throat. ÒWhat is your name?Ó asked the Prime Minister.

       ÒI am Viscount Egmont,Ó said the young man, really more like a boy.

       And the Prime Minister smiled at him, and turned and walked away. ÒAll in creation,Ó he muttered to himself.

II. The Power

       Rhodes Palmerston was not the sort of person who enjoyed sitting still for a prolonged period of time. But the former Prime Minister of the Tasnica Republic was nonetheless forced to sit belted in as his high speed diplomatic shuttle remained in a holding pattern around Nova Pax.

       Rhodes was agitated by the delay. Now that he was taking up the mantle of Sovereign Executive, youÕd think he was a sufficiently large enough VIP that this sort of thing wouldnÕt happen.

       In the back of his mind, Rhodes couldnÕt help but wonder if he had surrendered the helm of one of the WebÕs most powerful nations to take on a thankless, useless job in a foolÕs crusade. He didnÕt worry too much about such things, however, because his mere presence at the job would catapult it to importance; at least, that was the theory. Without bringing Doan back from the dead, there were few elder statesman in the Web of stature comparable to Rhodes Palmerston.

       His shuttle was comfortable but not luxurious, but on the final approach (which was now about five hours long) the tan interior struck him as awfully drab. He stared out the window at the three-mile long station of Nova Pax, the new meeting ground for the Alliance Congress. It was an exciting time for the Alliance Congress, which had been busy reforming GACAÕs formerly militaristic character into broader fields like disaster relief, science, and health. Which was all well and good, but Palmerston had proposed the Alliance Congress reforms to make the Web more peaceful .

       Frustrated, he read the magazine he was provided for the fiftieth time. He was already six hours behind in the news cycle; this was not acceptable. The magazine had a review of MountbattenÕs new book, In Defense of Reason , a rationalist screed against the long Tasnican philosophical tradition of empiricism. There was also a large article on archeological work excavating the Magnificent Lighthouse, which the Tasnicans of the Age of Great Progress considered wondrous. There was an entertaining graphic which juxtaposed the Lighthouse with the Consortium Tower in Egmont and the Void Bridge. There was an interesting article about a glacier in Mandala moving very slowly to crush a village at the base of a mountain.

       Palmerston felt the distinctive jolt. He smiled, adjusted his suit and tie, and debarked, catching a glimpse of himself in the glass on the way out. He was a little bit disturbed by the silvery turn his hair was taking, but any who met him could easily tell that his old energy still burned.

       Palmerston received the red carpet. Many of the prominent Members Alliance Congress (MACs) had come to greet him. There was also the Grand Army commander of the station, an R-series robot wearing the eagles on the shoulders that distinguished him as a Hauptmann.

       Entering, he thought there should be some greeting inscribed on the wall, like the ÔOhne Freiheit, NichtsÕ of the Senate.

       Rhodes lingered for a few moments. He was supposed to meet the Tasnican delegation for dinner soon, and despite the delay he did not want to be late, but he was a people person, and everyone wanted to shake his hand.

       Still, Rhodes managed to be punctual, arriving at one of Nova PaxÕs large conference rooms. The Tasnica Republic, as one of the WebÕs largest nations, was entitled to one of the largest delegations. The room had a lot of stained glass, and had the sort of neo-gothic style that was popular on Contac and in Centwerp. Tasnican firms, after all, had been responsible for a significant amount of the stationÕs construction. Rhodes was the guest of honor; the head Tasnican MAC, Albert Moresten, sat on his right. Rhodes, having spent years as Prime Minister, knew most of the MACs well; they were pretty much universally career diplomats with distinguished records. Moresten had been ambassador to the Esper Union when the Leviathan War had skyrocketed the EU to the position of TasnicaÕs most strategically vital ally. But what impressed Rhodes was the diversity of peoples. There were humans and dwarves and krydions and robots and Primans and nekos. The Tasnican delegation was one of the most diverse; they had made a point of sending a diverse delegation, in fact, as if to make a point of the variety of peoples the Republic stood for.

       Moresten was talking about the various personalities in the Alliance Congress, giving Rhodes as much info as possible. ÒSayaka Falbrow of the Guardian delegation is very effective at enforcing disciplineÉif she were in the Senate she might well have been a whip,Ó said Moreston. ÒSakura Shiawese has a big following, even though sheÕs only from Eblan. ItÕs because she called for the budget cuts. But all around thereÕs much anticipation for your State of the Alliance speech and eagerness for what youÕll do, particularly among us on the front bench. Even the Scandians seem upbeat, for Scandians.Ó

       ÔThe front benchÕ, Palmerston knew, was where the big and powerful countries sat. ÒIf there is another war in the Web, ten to one it involves the Scandians fighting the Esperians.Ó

       Everyone nodded as if that was profound, but it was of course the conventional wisdom.

       ÒThe Merge League is also something of a rising power, and their challenge to Bal will not forever be ignored by Guardia,Ó Rhodes continued. ÒWe are one of the largest delegations. We trade with almost every country here. We have strong relationships with Guardia, Esper, and Crystal. Even the Scandians dare not ignore us. Some people say that TasnicaÕs moment is passing, or has already passed, but I want you to remember that the New Peace will only work so long as the Great PowersÑÔthe front benchersÕÑare willing to try to make it work. You here, the Tasnican delegation, are uniquely entrusted with making sure it all works. The Tasnica Republic must be the champion of the New Peace. We are outstandingly situated for this role. I am what some now might try to make a toothless, powerless post,Ó said Rhodes, and everyone in the room believed that trying to devalue such an august personage was doomed to failure, Òbut so long as I know that the people of this room are behind me, I am confident that we will have peace.Ó

       There was applause, and Moreston smiled at Rhodes when it was done. ÒWe are at your disposal, Mr. Prime Minister.Ó

       ÒPlease,Ó said Rhodes, ÒI donÕt think our current Populist Prime Minister would like it if you kept calling me that. ÔMr. Sovereign ExecutiveÕ will be fine.Ó

       There was some debate if this title meant that Rhodes was sovereign over all the executives, or merely executive of all the sovereigns. Most people agreed that the title sounded sufficiently impressive.

       ÒI wonder,Ó said Moreston, Òsome people back home, like Yeats, and Mountbatten, are saying that we are better off confronting the communists, that itÕs really not worth making peace with them.Ó

       ÒIt is true that we must be prepared to defend ourselves,Ó said Rhodes, with a care that would almost suggest that he was still running for office, Òbut I believe that the communists want what we want. They tried to launch their war, and it nearly cost them everything. It is should be clear to everyone that the New Peace is the only alternative to total destruction.Ó

       ÒWe all look forward to hearing about the State of the Alliance,Ó said Moreston.

       ÒI look forward to speaking,Ó said Rhodes.

       The Hearth of the Web was the primary meeting chamber of Nova Pax. It was a rectangular room, with the seats slowly rising. It looked like marble and probably was, although the stone was an unorthodox space building material. Flags from all around GACA decorated; there were the harsh lines of the Esper Union, the Scandian LeagueÕs that resembled a triangle blotting out a sun, and the familiar Tasnican swept cross. Rhodes stood at a small podium at one end, in front of a massive golden sun punctuated by a sword of diamonds.

       The Hearth of the Web was full, and RhodesÕs speech would be broadcast throughout the Web of the Worlds. He began with a variation on his familiar opening line.

       ÒMy name is Rhodes Palmerston, and I represent the Web,Ó he said, and that alone was enough for cheers to go up. ÒRemember, all of us here at Alliance Congress have a duty to the Web as a whole,Ó he continued. ÒWe must create the peace. Peace is something that must be created. It is a common mistake to speak of ÔmaintainingÕ peace, as if war were the aberration and peace the norm. But it is war that is the natural state of humanity. You cannot preserve that which does not exist. We chartered the Grand Army for our mutual defense against the Dark Gods; now this Congress has been chartered to protect us from each other.

       ÒThis speech is called the State of the Alliance, so I suppose IÕll put in a word about the State of the Alliance. Frankly, itÕs bad. YouÕve got factions sitting in fortified cities with vast arsenals eying everyone else suspiciously. The big powers continue to prey on the little powers, and some of the little powers are getting just big enough to take out their frustrations. This is an alliance that, under five years ago, saw a major war take place between some of its most valued members. This is an alliance with only one recourse for any problem: the GeneralissimoÕs Solution. ThatÕs a fine solution to use against Gods, but a terrible thing to set against Men. When we have not employed that solution, this alliance has stood powerless against events unfolding. Because the only means at our disposal is unacceptable we dare not use it, but without that we have nothing.

       ÒFortunately, we are beginning to realize that things need to change. We are beginning to realize that if we can win the Great War, we can surely live in peace. And we are beginning to realize how fragile even the most seemingly powerful countries can be before the onslaught of a modern war.

       ÒSome people wonder if it can be done. But consider that it wasnÕt so long ago that the Sultan of Arad warred with the Tsar of the Scandish Empire. Not so long ago that the city states of Esper locked each other in combat. Not so long ago that the Syndicates vied for control of Guardia. And yet now those areas have achieved some measure of peace and stability. If they can do it, we can do it.Ó

       Applause, particularly from the delegations of Guardia, Esper, and even Scande.

       ÒThe Grand Army was commanded to the task of waging war. Now I command this Alliance Congress to the task of waging anti-war. The origins and causes of the war are well known to us; this is a familiar disease, and we must use this knowledge to help us find the cure. We know that fear and misunderstanding leads to war. This Congress will dispel the fear and the misunderstanding. We know that nations go to war because they do not think there is another way. We will offer them another way. They go to war because they need something. We will allow them easier access to trade.

       ÒArchaeologists often find one ancient civilization built on top of the other. Each civilization had their moment, and in turn fell. But I have the singular conceit that we can do a better job than our ancestors. I believe we can find a way out. The generation of Celiose grew up knowing only war; let the generation of 41 WR grow up knowing only peace. Our goal is not simply to build peace for our time, but to build peace for all time.Ó

       Rhodes grinned as the applause rolled in. Finally, he felt, in this task of building peace in the Web, he had run up against a challenge formidable enough.

III. The Fallen

       ÒGreetings, my name is Robert Johanssen,Ó said the smiling man at the door of the house. This was a well-to-do neighborhood in the Quad Megaplex; everyone lived in their own house. Despite the traumatic events of the past year, people persisted, as people must.

       The woman at the door was befuddled. She was lean and athletic, but a slight paunch on her stomach. She looked sort-of familiar, but Robert focused on his pitch.

       ÒYou see, I am glad to be here in the Egmont Quarter,Ó he said, ÒI am traveling from town to town selling books. I used to own a bookstore, but as you aware, the Green Codes prohibit any PTC resident from owning property; it all must be rented from the Occupation Commerce Authority. Now, I like to say that you canÕt keep the Tasnican spirit of enterprise down, try as OCA might, so I left my store and now IÕm traveling town to town selling books.Ó Robert was wearing a fairly nice suit for a Tasnican these days, and he produced a slick catalogue. ÒI have excellent deals on all of these. ÔThe New History of the Second Great WarÕ is my featured book this month.Ó

       The woman blinked. ÒThe Second Great War was on year ago,Ó she said, Òwhy would anyone want a history of it? And why is there a ÔnewÕ history?Ó

       Johanssen shrugged, ÒWell, the new history is put out by the Advisory Board of the Pandoran-Tasnican CommonwealthÉ.Ó

       The woman frowned. ÒSo in other words, it blames everything on Tasnica.Ó

       ÒMore or less,Ó admitted Johanssen. ÒIf thatÕs not your cup of tea, thereÕs this excellent philosophy book published in 139, ÔThe Incoherence of the PhilosophersÕ by Bayber. It basically argues that philosophy is crap because you canÕt know anything at all.Ó

       That got no response.

       ÒWell, thereÕs this romance novel set against the backdrop of a Mandalan village about to be crushed by a glacier. ItÕs a nice period peace, very upbeat, compared to nowadaysÉÓ

       ÒIÕm not going to buy someone from a purveyor of revisionist trash,Ó said the woman.

       The man blinked, and thought he recognized her. ÒHey, didnÕt you used to play tennis?Ó

       In the background, a baby cried. The woman turned around and shouted, ÒIÕll be right there, Astyanax.Ó She regarded Robert, furious. ÒMy husband died in the battle of Contac. He died for me, he died for that child, he died for you. He died for the Republic. And now that Republic is dead. No more swept cross, no more Freiheit Immer .Ó

       RobertÕs eyes widened. It was forbidden to mention Freiheit Immer , the anthem of the (now defunct) Tasnica Republic. It was on the Banned List, along with the Code of Belgememnon and Rhodes Palmerston. They tried to ban Hector Midge, too, to make the story of the Second Great War devoid of Tasnican heroism and make it entirely centered around Tasnican guilt.

       WasnÕt he supposed to marry someone after the war? What was her name? Wondered Robert. A biography of Midge, although contraband, was one of his best sellers.

       Robert opened his mouth, and the woman slammed the door in his face.

       Sucking it up, the traveling salesman moved to the next house. A man with only one arm answered. The technology was available for cybernetic replacement, but, fearing Black Omega, all cybernetics were prohibited in the Pandoran-Tasnican Commonwealth.

       A war veteran. Robert knew better than to even try.

       He should have known better than to have come to Egmont Quarter, which had one of the highest proportions of military personnel. He thought he might have a chance to sell to some foreign Overseers, and he did see a lot of them around; the industries of the former Kuat Consortium were being turned around to help rebuild the devastated Web.

       More importantly, he had to get out of the Olivawk Quarter. Being that close to Contac Crater and the ruins of the Void Bridge was downright depressing. It seemed every other city block was still on fire, even after it happened. He thought that Egmont was far enough away that he would not have to see the bent hulk of what remained of the Void Bridge. But the Void Bridge has been built to connect ground to space, and even at this distance, even in the industrial haze, it was possible to see it. It still burned.

       The next house was a Pandoran couple. Robert instinctively could tell they were Pandoran. Something in their eyes, something placid and calm. Like they didnÕt seem to mind living under occupation. Maybe they got a kick out of getting top billing in the Pandoran-Tasnican Commonwealth, even if it was just the puppet of the occupying nations. No wonder a major project of the occupiers was to try to ship Pandorans into what was once Tasnica and move Tasnicans into what was once Pandora.

       The Pandorans actually bought a couple of books from the approved list, including glorious histories of Scande and Esper. There was, however, one awkward moment.

       The husband asked, ÒDo you have anything on the Republic?Ó

       Robert blinked. ÒAs you know, all old books pertaining to the history of the Tasnica Republic have been destroyed. The PTC government is working on new, approved versionÑÒ

       The man laughed. ÒMan,Ó he said. ÒI want something on the Manx.Ó

       ÒOh,Ó said Robert. ÒI see.Ó And he found a good volume suitably glorifying Ryn Cose. All in all, the Pandorans more or less made his day, and Robert Johanssen was in such a celebratory mood he decided to hit a bar.

       The bar was near where Consortium Tower-er, Commonwealth Tower. As such, it was neat and upscale. It had recently been remodeled to fit a Thebean motif, but behind the pillars and the marble it was possible to see the aggressively modern Gavalian kitsch style it once had. Even the name change was easy to see, from ÒPrince KÓ to ÒQueen CÓ.

       Fortunately, Tasnican beer was still available. For now at least, banning that was more trouble than it was worth. Robert was in good spirits, but the bar seemed kind of slow, even though it was an upscale place. Robert asked the bartender why no one was around.

       ÒThe Overseers come here,Ó said the bartender, and that was enough. Sure enough, a trio of occupation force officers entered the room, one wearing the distinctive dust grey of the Scandian League. Two others were not in uniform, but by their deportment they could only be Overseers. They owned this place and knew it. As they approached, Robert realized that one of them was not a human at all, but a robot. He had heard of the Z-series, which from afar looked very human, but up close their solid block of hair and rubbery skin gave them away.

       They were the first model that was ostensibly outright better than people, at least according to the Guardians, who built the things. Not very many of them were around; some served as high-level officers. Robert kept to himself; these were clearly Somebodies.

       The Scandian delighted in pushing them around, causing the Z-series to sigh. ÒRubashov, must you do that?Ó

       Ò ItÕs fun, Zack,Ó insisted the Scandian. He pushed Robert, and Robert instinctively steeled himself against it. ÒSee, thatÕs obviously a Tasnican.Ó

       ÒHow can you tell?Ó asked the third officer, a woman. Probably Manx, from the QWI logo on her shirt.

       Not so long ago, all one would ever see in Egmont is the infinity logo of the Kuat Consortium.

       ÒEasy,Ó the Scandian, Rubashov, answered. ÒTasnicans are the ones that donÕt like to be pushed.Ó

       ÒWeÕre going to need to keep pushing them,Ó said the Manx woman. ÒThis is one of the last relatively unscathed industrial bases in the Web.Ó

       The robot nodded. ÒYes, although productivity will never reach earlier peaks under the Green Codes.Ó

       ÒYou donÕt like the Green Codes?Ó asked the Scandian.

       ÒI donÕt think it was wise to eviscerate one of the WebÕs great mercantile traditions,Ó said the Z-series.  

       Robert couldnÕt help but feel that Zack the robot had a point. The Green Codes prevented Tasnicans from owning property, prevented them from managerial positions, barred them from loaning money, and put strict limits on how much they could save. The Green Codes had replaced the Code of Belgememnon, and every Tasnican had died a little bit inside because of it. Which was probably the idea.

       ÒIf you ask me,Ó said the Scandian, Òwe should have just packed it all up and moved it out. Force the bastards back down to an agrarian society.Ó

       Robert shuddered at the thought. DidnÕt the brute know that the Industrial Revolution had started in Tasnica? (Even if the Web at the time was a much smaller place, and several dimensions achieved it independently.)

       ÒThis is the Quad Megaplex,Ó said the Manx woman, ÒitÕs a giant urban area. How can they be pastoral? Nothing would grow here.Ó

       Robert knew that was true. Tasnica grew most of its food as various cultured yeasts.

       ÒThe Tasnicans should have thought of that when they joined the Triad,Ó said the man from Scande.

       ÒMaybe they were thinking about it when they joined us,Ó said the robot.

       Robert could not help but curse the name Salomo. The Prime MinisterÕs eleventh hour gambit had failed; the Tasnica Republic had fallen.

       ÒDonÕt give me that shit,Ó said the Scandian. ÒThey were Triad 364 days of a one year war.Ó

       ÒWe couldnÕt have beat the Crystalese without the RAF,Ó admitted the Manx woman. ÒI was there.Ó

       Robert felt a swell of pride.

       ÒAnd I was there when my village was burned, and when my parents were bodies whose faces were gone,Ó said Rubashov. ÒI was there defending your robotic Guardian ass facing down Avarael fucking Cole when he tore through my squad like they were little children. For there to be peace, we need keep the Tasnica down. Tasnica must never again arise to threaten the Web.Ó

       There was a moment of silence. ÒWell,Ó said Zack, ÒI believe there will be a 22.1 percent probability of increased stability if we appoint a leader of Tasnican origin.Ó

       ÒAny of the old Senators or Ministers?Ó asked the Manx woman. ÒHell, even some of the old Kuat crew.Ó

       ÒNo, we wish to avoid any attachment to the past,Ó said Zack.

       ÒWhat about him?Ó asked Rubashov.

       Robert was startled. He realized the Scandian was pointing at him.

       ÒYou canÕt just pick someone off the street,Ó insisted Zack.

       ÒWhy not?Ó asked Rubashov. ÒHeÕll probably get killed anyway.Ó

       ÒThere is a 43.8 percent chance of that, yes,Ó agreed Zack.

       Robert wondered if he should slink away.

       ÒYou there,Ó asked Rubashov. ÒHow would you like to be Interim Leader of the Provisional Government?Ó

       Robert was not a political person, but he knew that being the ÔInterimÕ Leader of the ÔProvisionalÕ Government was not a position with good career advancement prospects.

       ÒWhatÕs your name?Ó asked the Manx woman.

       ÒRobert Johanssen,Ó said Robert.

       ÒHeÕs a Tasnican aggressor, to me he has no other identity,Ó growled Rubashov. ÒPerhaps, though, we have a use for him.Ó

       Robert saw the eagles on RubashovÕs shoulder, and very nearly said, ÔYes, Hauptmann,Õ but then he remembered that that was not only not a Scandian rank, but Hauptmann, as a word of Tasnikanze origin, was on the Banned List.

       ÒWhat do you do?Ó

       ÒIÉ.umÉI am a traveling salesmanÉÓ

       ÒSee, thatÕs pretty apolitical,Ó said Rubashov.

       ÒI donÕt think he wants it,Ó said Zack.

       ÒFuck, I wouldnÕt,Ó said the Manx woman.

       ÒHeÕll do,Ó smiled Rubashov.

       Robert Johanssen could not believe he was going to have to speak from Contac Crater. The place where the once proud city of the stars had crashed into the ground in a flaming ball seemed haunted. It was a jungle of twisted metal and it stank of ozone. According to rumor Avarael Cole stalked this ruin, still alive because nothing in this Web could kill him. To the left and right as far as Robert could see a strip of the devastation wrought by the collapse of the Void Bridge.

       They had set up some bleachers for some Tasnicans to watch their new leader give an address, as well as television crews. Robert never considered himself a particularly good speaker, but with the teleprompter he would muddle through. He didnÕt dare ask what would happen to him if he refused.

       For a breath fleeting moment Robert thought of himself in the tradition of Tasnican leadersÑTitodain, Belgememnon, Stokkan, PalmsertonÑbut that was gone in a moment. None of them would ever suffer such humiliation.

       The Advisory Board had debated what he should say. Some argued for the creation of a local constabulary, but to many that reeked of the Tasnican tradition of the professional military. Finally, they settled on a few minor details.

       The cameras started to roll, and, extremely nervous, Robert began his speech.

       ÒFellow Pandoran-Tasnican Commonwealth Residents,Ó said Robert. (They were not, after all, citizens.) ÒI am pleased to announce that the Occupying Powers, in their wisdom, have begun to grant additional autonomy to the Commonwealth, with the formation of a provisional government, with me, Robert Johanssen, as its Interim Leader. Some of the priorities of this government will be to repair the damage caused by the Second Great War and return our industries to productivity as fast as possible. It is important for us to work hard to help rebuild the Web to make up for starting the Second Great War.Ó

       That line made Robert want through up, but he pressed on. He had to get through it.

       ÒIndeed, Nikeah is gone, the Holy Mana Empire is gone, Blaenu Gwent is in ruins, every other Scandian is dead, Thebes has suffered, Gate is heavily damaged. As a result of Tasnican actions billions have died.Ó

       The crowd was already booing him. Robert was willing to boo himself at this point.

       ÒHowever, our magnanimous occupiers have wisely kept much of the infrastructure of this area intact. They are not our enemies, they come as our friends and their only concern is peace in the Web. It is for our own good that they rule us.Ó

       Robert didnÕt even feel like he was saying them himself. He felt like someone watching Robert Johanssen giving this speech. It was too surreal.

       ÒThe first several months of the Commonwealth have been better than expected,Ó said Robert. ÒOur Overseers are pleased that we have been so productive. As a reward, we will be allowed to restore the destruction wrought in the once great plaza in the center of the Quad Megaplex.Ó

       The crowd stopped booing. It was, of course, verboten to refer to Palmerston Square by name, and the statue depicting TasnicaÕs greatest Prime Minister with planets orbiting him had been destroyed. Would it be possible that the Quad Megaplex would once again be allowed to have a glorious central plaza to match its size?

       ÒThe centerpiece of this new square, called Heroes Square, will be massive monuments to the heroes of the Second Great War, including Cose, Halberg, Clementia, DanzauÑÒ

       A man from the crowd stood up, and shouted. ÒOHNE FREIHIET, NICHTS!Ó Then he fired a shot.

       Robert Johanssen never finished his list of the heroes of the Second Great War.