Morena and the Matriarch Ch. 10

"There's a whole bunch of shit going on," he told them. "You've lit a fire under the entire freaking government. They're moving to arrest a whole bunch of the Executive. There may only be a few bad apples, but they're shaking the orchard. The President will let us know when the dust has settled."

Alyssa looked over at the Major, looking solemn as she stared into her coffee cup.

"I guess being accused of Treason makes you one of the Good Guys," Alyssa told her, moving over and sitting down.

Major Kirsch looked up thoughtfully, then told Alyssa, "It was not an easy decision. I take my oath seriously. 'Enemies foreign' is easy. 'Enemies domestic' is not. It is sometimes very difficult to challenge the lawfulness of an order or the mental competency of a superior officer. I swore to support and defend our Republic and its Constitutional Monarchy against all enemies, foreign and domestic. It's a real bitch when the Constitutional Monarch turns out to be the domestic enemy."

"I hear you there, Sister," Alyssa told her quietly. "I'll tell you what, though... you stepped over the line from foe to friend when you took it on yourself to testify to the truth. I owe you one, and you can keep that until you want to cash it in."

The Major nodded. "Thanks," she acknowledged, "I hope I still have a job after all this shakes out."

* * * * * * * * * *

"The President is on the phone for you," Zefron told Morena quietly as he woke her, trying not to wake Alyssa sleeping next to her.

"I wake up faster than she does," Alyssa mumbled into her pillow. Then she sat up and looked at him. "I'll pass on the message while you make damn sure there's fresh coffee."

"There always is, Mistress," he smiled. "At least, there is when I'm in town."

He moved on out of the room and Alyssa cuddled up to Morena.

"I'm awake," Morena told Alyssa. "I heard... and I have a bad feeling about what I'm going to hear."

She sat up, leaned over and kissed Alyssa, then started to slide out of bed.

"Guess we better go face the jackals," she said, starting to pull on clothes.

"What do you mean, 'we'?" Alyssa asked. "I don't have to go answer the phone."

"No, but the coffee's in the other room. I suppose the guys would appreciate it if you just walked around naked... hell, Madge and the Major might, too... okay, do what you want."

Morena stretched like a cat unwinding, then headed out the door. Alyssa debated staying in bed, but the allure of real, honest-to-Goddess good coffee was too much. She piled out of bed and pulled on a robe.

"I understand, Madame President," Morena was saying as Alyssa walked into the room. "We will sit tight while you release it to the media. You let us know when you want us to attend the emergency meeting of the Council and we'll be there." She paused a moment.

"No, I don't think sending someone to get us is a good idea. They could end up dead. We will meet you..." She turned and looked at Ely.

"In the utility room of the power station north of the Council HQ," he told her.

"In the utility room of the power station north of the Council HQ," she passed on. "Whoever makes initial contact should not be armed... or at least have everything holstered." She paused again, then sighed, heavily.

"I understand, Madame President, and as torn as I am, I believe you are right. Buckle up... it's going to get bumpy."

Morena rang off, then turned to face Alyssa, Ely and Zefron.

"The Matriarch will be found dead in her apartments this morning. Apparently, an accidental overdose. They will be releasing the news to the media soon thereafter. President Sarkov will call an emergency meeting of the entire Council to do two things. The first is to declare martial law under the auspices of the Council until a new Matriarch can be chosen. And the second is to propose candidates for Matriarch. It is her fervent desire to avoid a Constitutional crisis."

"We are requested to be there."

* * * * * * * * * *

"As this august assembly is aware," President Sarkov addressed the Council, "we have in place a Constitutional process for determining the Right of Accession. In the midst of our current tragedy, we must be mindful of our duty to our citizens, to provide them with cohesion and continuity in government. We have, in accordance with long standing procedures, declared martial law until we can determine a new Matriarch. We must try to keep this unusual state of affairs as brief as possible."

President Sarkov looked out over the hastily assembled Council members. Some, mostly the Sycophants, were looking severely distraught. The others, not so much. Apparently, the Matriarch's "accidental" death wasn't hitting everyone the same. But she still needed to play politics.

"I will therefore invoke the Right of Accession Act and begin the process of determining candidates for the office of Matriarch. In our present condition, the reigning Matriarch died of natural causes and without an heir. That means we will consider nominations for qualified candidates. We will then take a statutory two week interim while the Council members poll their home Districts, to inform their votes."

"After that, we will reconvene and hold the election. The floor is now open for nominations."

Almost immediately, a Council member rose.

"Madame President," she addressed Sarkov. "I am Lillia Grenton from District 21. I nominate Mistress Odetta Pennyfarthing, current Chairwoman of the Committee on Finances and acting Liaison to the Matriarch's Household, for the position of Matriarch."

President Sarkov knew that one was coming. She expected four others. After that, it was anyone's guess. Politically, each nominee would have a following based on their vested interests. It was almost axiomatic that no one nominee would meet with the approval of a two-thirds majority. The two weeks wasn't so much to poll the citizens, but to allow the behind-the-scenes maneuvering and deal-making to happen, out of the public spotlight.

As she expected, Mistresses Ariadne Silkwood of Ways and Means, Beatrice Stonehill of Judiciary Oversight, Dorothy Southfield of Fertility and Health, and Virginia Frost of Agriculture and Economics all got nominated. When that seemed to be the end of the nominations, she again addressed the Council.

"I am grateful to those candidates who have been nominated and have accepted. I am sure vetting will be perfunctory. I have the privilege, in my position of President, to put forward a nomination of my own before I close the nominations. I ask the Council's indulgence for a moment."

"I nominate Mistress Morena of Falconwood, Premier Rancher and currently sole supplier to the Fertility Festival for the past decade, for the office of Matriarch. Mistress Morena..." and she looked out into the gallery until she spotted Morena, now risen to her feet, "do you accept?"

Morena took a deep breath and let it out slowly as Alyssa, Madge and Major Kirsch looked on in absolute, stunned surprise.

"Madame President," Morena began, a little shakily, "I would consider it the greatest of honors to be considered for the most revered and critical position of our Republic's Matriarch. I gratefully accept the nomination." Then she sat down before her knees could buckle.

President Sarkov nodded to Morena. "Thank you Mistress Morena, for your selfless service. If there are no more nominations... I declare the nominations closed." And she sounded her gavel.

"Holy Fucking Shit!" Alyssa hissed next to her. "Mother Goddess! Do you know what you're doing? The Matriarch???"

"I hope what I'm doing," Morena told Alyssa softly, "is simply the right thing."

* * * * * * * * * *

It was two weeks of Hell. Nobody cared about the citizenry. They all wanted to know more about Morena. She was lucky to be getting three hours sleep a night, between the media interviews, committee interviews and behind-the-scenes politicking. She finally had to declare a vacation day so she could get some rest. And even then, a dozen Council members enquired as to whether they might join her on her vacation.

Her ranch was virtually overrun, to the point where she had to post armed guards around the stables and work areas, and her house was full to overflowing with visitors. She finally decided that she needed to let the penthouse in one of the City's hotels and use it as a "campaign HQ". And the odd thing was, as she kept trying to tell people, she respected the responsibilities of the Matriarch and she really didn't want to do any campaigning... she was more of a "get it done" girl and not so much a people-person.

And even that somehow got twisted into a positive. Probably because the concept of duty over personal gain was in such direct contrast to the previous Matriarch.

"Stella, get me a three hour meeting with Alyssa, Dosay, Steven and whomever Steven wants to bring," she ordered one day. "I don't care how you clear the calendar, I need to talk to them, so I don't do something stupid."

"Yes, Mistress!" Stella had responded, and set out to do just that.

Three days later, Alyssa, Dosay, their servants Gann and Roe, Steven and Ely entered the penthouse.

"Stella, clear the place. Armed guards at the door. I'm going to use the pool and if one of those media aircraft start hovering over us, shoot it down!" Morena was not feeling in a mood to be hounded by the press.

"Maybe we should just ask the Council to park one of their ships overhead and chase anybody else off," Stella suggested. "You're everybody's favorite, right now. Maybe they'd do it."

"As long as the crew are people Kirsch approves of, fine," Morena told her. "Just do it now."

Then turning to the others, "it is great to see you and we've got business to attend to, but for now, the reason it's a three hour meeting is so I can relax. I'd like you to relax with me."

"Mistress, having us four men fuck your brains out on the rooftop will definitely make the evening news, I don't care how many airships you park over your pool," Steven smirked.

"Then maybe we'll have to take care of that indoors," Morena smiled. "In the meantime, can I get you anything to drink?"

The four women and four men settled in to chat, with veiled references to how the Second Site was developing and generally how life had been treating them. When one of Morena's guards approached them and told her the pool was clear, Morena stood up.

"Let's take this conversation out to the pool, specifically the hot tub. The noise of the water jets will help drown out anyone trying to eavesdrop."

The eight of them moved out to the jacuzzi and Morena led the way by simply stripping off her clothes and easing into the tub. The others joined her moments later as a large, dark lighter-than-aircraft with the Council's insignia on it hovered overhead.

"Here's what I need to talk to you about," Morena addressed them when they were comfortable. "All these people that are talking to me, wooing me, trying to figure me out... they're all talking dark horse. They really seem to think that because I come from outside the current political climate, that I might actually stand a chance of getting elected. President Sarkov's leaning my way, as are a large number of the Loyal Opposition. I'm getting an awful lot of interest from the Neutrals, too."

"This is starting to get scary. Two weeks ago I would have thought it was crazy... hell, I still do. But I need a Plan B and a Plan C and so forth. If... and I stress IF... I get elected, how do we protect Second Site? How do I keep Alyssa as my Rancher/Supplier and keep it quiet. She's still down in the books as a Procurer. For that matter, how do I keep my ranch?"

"I worked pretty bloody hard to get that ranch and I don't want politics fucking it up."

"Mistress, if that's all you're worried about," Steven told her, "it's simple. Keep it as it is."

"And I would do that how?" Morena prompted him.

"Keep your ranch. Put Mistress Stella in charge, pretty much like it is now. She knows how you want things run, let her keep doing her job. Open up the Fertility Festival contract to a 'Best of Breed'... let the other Ranchers compete, submit product for independent testing, take the best. You can spread some of the wealth around as Matriarch without it hurting anything. In fact, you might make some friends."

"Go on," she asked him.

"Let us continue with Second Site," he explained. "The product can be filtered through Alyssa, to you. She can continue as a Procurer, or you can give her a job working with Stella. You would be in a perfect position to keep the military away from our site. In fact, I can't think of a better way to provide a Sanctuary."

"By the way, keep Madge as your Chamberlain. She is as loyal as the day is long, if you deserve it. And you'll deserve it," he added. "And while you're at it, promote that Major Kirsch to Colonel and make her your Aide-de-camp. She can handle your military, Madge can handle your household."

"Any more free advice, before I haul you off to the bedroom, good Sir?" Morena smiled.

"Yeah," Steven told her seriously. "Get a pregnancy test kit."

"What?" Morena almost swallowed the words, she was so quiet.

"How late is your period?" he asked instead.

"Um..." Morena was really having to think on that one.

"Like I said," Steven interjected.

"Oh... my... Goddess..." Morena breathed.

* * * * * * * * * *

"We will vote by secret ballot," President Sarkov informed the Council. "A two-thirds vote is required to elect. Votes will be tallied and posted by candidate. If no one candidate receives a two-thirds majority, the lowest vote getter will be eliminated, a one hour break will be taken and we will re-vote. We will repeat this process until one candidate receives a two-thirds majority or until there are only two candidates left. If there are only two candidates, a simple majority will elect."

Morena sat with Stella in the gallery, watching the vote. Her nerves felt like someone had plugged her into the wall. She wasn't sure if that was because she was nervous, or pregnant. Steven the Wonder Stud had managed to make the little stripe turn blue.

Twenty years ago, the doctors had told her that after the rape, she was never going to have kids.

Fucking fat lot of idiots! she thought, watching the vote. This is going to be one helluva ride.

The first vote was inconclusive, but she was the third highest vote getter.

I am so fucking nervous, my teeth itch! she thought. I feel like I've mainlined meth...

The second vote was inconclusive, but she'd moved up to the second highest vote getter.

Goddess, why are you dropping all this shit on me at once? she thought.

Because you can handle it, a little voice inside her said.

On the third vote, she was elected.