Russian Amerika (18 page)

"So who's gonna run things, make the rules, enforce what laws?"

"We're working on it. But there is no way we can allow anyone loyal to the Czar to remain in this room. You either swear to serve the Dená People above all others, to fight their enemies, and defend their borders, or you leave now."

"I'm not a Dená, but I live here, I own a business, I serve as leader in my village. What you just asked me to swear allegiance to is everything I believe in, but why are we fighting the Czar?"

"You're in the fight, Mr. Bachmann, either on our side or the Czar's. Which is it?"

"I'm with you, of course, you've got me surrounded." He laughed and looked around at the others. Nobody laughed with him.

"Would the next delegate please introduce himself?"

"Joshua Golovin," the big man said, looking over at Bachmann. "Chena Redoubt, where the Russians treat you like moose shit. I need help to show them the error of their ways."

"I am Wing Demoski, from Beaver, I used to teach school with my husband until Cossacks killed him and thought they killed me. Soon after, I joined the DSM and killed all three of the animals who took my old life. I have been killing the Czar's Cossacks and
promyshlenniks
ever since. I believe in the Dená Republik!"

Everyone in the room applauded.

Gnady felt a thrill of pure pleasure when the last delegate spoke.

"I am Ambrose Ambrose from the village of Nabesna, on the Nabesna River. We're all related to everyone in Northway, just across the river."

"I thank everyone for their participation," Chandalar said in a loud voice, "and now ask all but the delegates to leave the building. We have much to do."

"We can't watch?" an old man asked in a querulous tone.

"I'm sorry." Chandalar's voice seemed made of stone. "But since we don't know everyone, we can't let anyone not on the council or their immediate advisors sit in and listen. We will make reports at the end of each day. Thank you all for understanding."

Gnady waved Waterman Stoddard over. "You're my advisor, okay?"

"Thanks. But let's call me chief of advisors, that way we can get more people in here."

Chandalar's voice boomed out, "Delegates, introduce your advisors if they exist."

Questions raised about the definition of "advisor" were quickly answered. During the quick debate more than one person yawned.

"We have a growing army," Chandalar said. "We need a general to run it. If there is anyone you know who can do a better job than Slayer-of-Men, I want to hear about it right now."

Slayer-of-Men was known the length and breadth of the Yukon and Kuskokwim Rivers. He had visited every village, every
odinochka
, every squalid "Indian town" clustered at the edge of the redoubts. Wherever he went, he insulted those who looked at the world differently, and recruited every malcontent he met.

His brother, Malagni, even more fearsome and far less diplomatic, always accompanied him. When they visited Old Crow, the thought had crossed Gnady's mind that these two didn't need anyone else, they
were
an army. Gnady couldn't offer an alternative.

It seemed no one could.

"Therefore we declare Slayer-of-Men the General of the Dená Army," Chandalar said in his best hard voice. "All in favor, say 'aye.' "

Gnady truly thought every person in the room said, "Aye."

"All opposed, say 'Nay.' "

"Nay," said Stoddard and Bachmann.

Chandalar glared at Stoddard. "Only delegates may vote!"

"Oh, sorry."

Nathan Roubitaux was elected Minister for War. Then the real work began.

"You there in the second row, do you have a question?" First Speaker Chandalar asked.

Gnady took a deep breath, glanced once at Bachmann, then said, "Yes, I have questions. If we win this war, what then? Who will take the place of the Czar for us? What kind of government are we going to have in a Dená

Republic?"

Chandalar looked blank for far too long before answering.

"Those are very good questions, Gnady. Well, once the war is won we will convene a committee to write a constitution. Every village in the Dená

Republic will select and send a delegate and those delegates will comprise that committee."

"What's to keep us, the council, I mean, from just taking over and running things from here on out?"

"Our word that we won't." Chan let his gaze move over everyone in the room. "Our People put us around this table for a reason. We're fighting a war against the Czar for our independence. When we have won that war, and we will, this council will disband and go home."

Nicole Grey stood up. "So who's going to make all the arrangements for this constitution meeting? Where's it going to be?"

"What we have now is called a provisional government," Chandalar said.

"That government will run the Dená Republic until a new government is formed. I will remain as First Speaker until a new one is elected under the provisions of our new constitution."

Nathan stood and waited for the room to quiet. "What we have here is something between an experiment and destiny. There are no rules yet, we have to make them together."

The first War Council convened. Only the council members and key officials were allowed inside the room.

Grisha sat behind Wing-he had accepted her invitation to be her advisor. The fourteen men and women around the long table chatted for a half hour in an effort to get to know each other better.

Finally they debated what action to take first.

"We have to neutralize their air force or we're done before we start," Minto's Alexandr Titus said.

"They got a lot of planes over here, too," another added.

"For those of you who don't know," Nathan said, "we have generous allies who have already provided us military aid. Without their Kalashnikovs the fight at Toklat could have ended very differently. We have also received three antiaircraft batteries. What we need to do is ambush their air force."

"What do our 'generous allies' expect in return for their military aid?" Eleanor Wright, the Nulato delegate asked.

"There has been nothing asked in return to my knowledge," Nathan said; his voice level had risen and all registered his discomfort.

"Eleanor raises a good point," Andrew Isaac, the Dot Lake chief said.

"Why would they risk the Czar's wrath for nothing?"

"Perhaps they have other differences with the Czar," Nathan said. His voice had leveled out and he sounded almost disinterested.

Claude Adams raised his hand. Nathan nodded.

"If we rely on assistance from the Lower Nine, we are merely changing masters. This has to be a predominantly Dená operation or we are doomed to another century of servitude."

"But if we throw off the yoke of the Czar," Ambrose Ambrose said, "what is to be expected in return? Can we back a military operation where the army we field takes over our lives and rules by force?"

"Your fantasies are entertaining, but have nothing to do with reality," Nathan said with heat. "For what purpose would you suggest that our army might subjugate us all?"

"For the most ancient of reasons, Mr. Speaker: power," Claude said, fervor in his voice. "Once power is won there are few men big enough or honorable enough to surrender the scepter. This is not a concept to be ignored."

"Nor is it a concept we should waste time with now," Joanne Kaiser, the lithe delegate from St. Anthony said. "We can decide later how we will rule ourselves, first we have to have something to rule!" Fredrik Seetamoona rose to his feet and waited for a chance to speak.

"Every speaker here has brought up subjects that must be dealt with before we can become a nation. But the lovely lady is correct in her inference that we have nothing yet to rule. I live but a few
versts
, sorry, kilometers, from Bridge.

"I know how massive the garrison is in that place, I know we must mount an overwhelming assault in order to hold Bridge in order to deny more Russian armor from passing into the land of the Dená, the land of my mother. Therefore I implore you to first fight this war and then argue about politics. We have no time to waste." He sat down.

The room remained silent for nearly a full minute.

Nicole Grey, the Tanana delegate, spoke first. "First things first. What we going to use as bait for this attack on their air force?"

"How about their own radio?" Grisha suggested.

"Excellent idea," Nathan said from the head of the table.

"But where?" Alexandr Titus asked.

"I've asked our military people that very question," Nathan said. "Will you hear their answer?"

Every delegate nodded.

"Slayer-of-Men, would you share what the military has decided?"

The tall warrior stood. "I am honored. There is only one place that is midway between the aerodromes at Teslin Redoubt and Fort Yukon." He walked over to the wall map of Russian Amerika and tapped it. "Right here. Of course it helps that we have those three antiaircraft batteries dug in around the target area."

A few delegates laughed; most were thoughtful.

"That's our recommendation."

"Does the council agree?" Nathan asked.

It did.

Nathan rubbed his hands together. "Now we have to choose which Russian redoubts in the Dená Republik we will attack and in what order."

"Hit them one at a time?" Ambrose Ambrose asked sharply.

"Yes, but all over the Republik. Say first we hit Chena and then two days later we hit St. Anthony. If we can keep them off balance for a week or two, we might even achieve diplomatic recognition from other countries.

"There are silent allies in many North American governments who would advocate for us as soon as we make our cause more than small guerilla actions. But we will have to hold what we take to make us viable in their eyes. The most important thing is that nobody in this room says anything to anybody outside this room about what is said here. People like to talk and we can't let that happen."

Grisha spotted Haimish McCloud on the other side of the gallery. The small man wore a sardonic smile.

"Do we have enough people to hit all the redoubts at once?" Tanana's Nicole Grey asked.

"We'd have the element of surprise but hitting everywhere at once would spread our forces far too thin, especially since we have to consolidate our victories. Our army is not large." Nathan stared around the table.

"We have to use deception and fight with everything we have, otherwise we'll fail and the Czar will see all of us dead. We are fighting for our lives. If we lose this war, the Russians will kill every one of us. The lucky ones will die fast."

"Okay," Alexandr Titus said firmly, "how do we go about this?"

"First we identify the targets, and then we decide how to reduce them to rubble."

"Please explain to me that air force ambush," Gnady said.

Nathan moved to the large map on the wall. "If we put the transmitter here . . ." He tapped the paper where Slayer-of-Men had indicated. ". . . with our three antiaircraft guns ringing the target-" He drew a circle on the map. "-and put a few dozen Kalashnikovs here, here and here . . ."

"You think they're gonna send all their planes?" Joshua Golovin from Chena asked.

"What if this don't work?" Ambrose Ambrose asked.

Two more hours of debate changed nothing. After the assembly officially ended, most stayed in the room, talking about points on which they differed.

Grisha moved out into the night and stared up at the
aurora borealis
. Someone moved beside him and he glanced over to see Wing. She looked up at the northern lights.

"My granny used to say they could come down and cut your head off if you made too much noise when they were out."

"Did you believe her?" Grisha asked, glancing up uneasily.

"No. But I knew she believed it, so I didn't argue."

Grisha felt a rush of desire for her. The memory of her quick kiss weeks ago burned in his mind. He kept his gaze fixed on the glowing ions above, wondering what to do.

She moved closer to him.

"I think I should go back in," he said softly.

"Why?"

"Because if I don't, I'm going to grab you and kiss you." He looked at her then and her large brown eyes seemed to envelop him.

"That's exactly what I want you to do. But that's _all_ you can do."

"Okay," he said, pulling her close.

Singly, in pairs, and small groups, the delegates left for their villages or joined the companies of volunteers raised by every village along the Yukon, Kuskokwim, Melosi, Black, Koyukuk, Porcupine, Stewart, and Tanana Rivers. Momentum for independence from the Czar built slowly but never faltered.

27

Tetlin Redoubt, January 1988

"Major Kominskiya, we're getting that carrier wave again."

Valari slapped down papers that eluded comprehension and smiled at the corporal in the doorway.

"Are you able to determine its location?" she said, elation in her voice.

"We radioed St. Nicholas and Chena Redoubt for a triangulation fix. We should have something within a half hour."

"Excellent!" She shot to her feet. "I'll be in the general's office. As soon as you have the location, inform me."

"Yes, Major." He saluted and vanished down the hallway.

She studied her appearance in the full-length mirror behind her office door. The uniform accentuated her slimness and the sharp creases mirrored the planes in her face. Deciding she looked competent and powerful, she marched smartly down the tiled corridor to her commanding officer's anteroom.

The tall, blond, rugged Cossack sergeant fastened his blue eyes on her face when she entered the room. He stood and saluted.

"Good afternoon, Major Kominskiya." After she returned the salute he sat down. "How may I serve you?"

The code amused her. More than one quiet afternoon had been passed in each other's arms. She smiled and shook her head slightly. "I need to see General Posivich, now."

"Ah, I see." The sergeant stood again. "If you'll have a seat, I'll see what I can do." He stepped through the door behind his desk and closed it after him.