The Valhalla Covenant

Sunday, the day of the first major public meeting, arrived all too quickly. Adelaide sported a relative young and intelligent population as well as a strong core of Little River people so in the event, the hall was overflowing and a couple of thousand people filled the street outside. Any thought that they might fly under the radar was scotched from well before the meeting began.

Unanimous agreement made Reimas the main speaker since he had taken on the role already with such ease. From very early in the day, Jos and Laurence attended him closely and neither could hide their anxiety.

Laurence, perhaps, was less so given the unexpected success of his new portable brainwave scanner. After the first unit had been in use but one day, its effectiveness had created a demand that obliged him to make several more. Capable of registering and assessing every mental state from mood, to mental alertness and specific disorders, it was immediately indispensable.

Despite general fears, the meeting went well and led soon afterwards to the rapid implementation of a new strategy that Erin had been considering for some time — an online PR and news outlet. Publicity and the new members it brought were, after all, a high priority for the fledgling alliance.

Erin spoke with many people in the audience afterwards, and all were keen to have an easy way to stay in the loop.

Armed with an immediate contact list of fifteen that had expressed interest in assisting with the venture, she made a good case for it at an inner congress meeting the next day and, on receipt of approval to begin producing it, nominated a small team to help with the set up.

One new member from Sydney had anticipated the need for temporary office space and offered the use of his spacious inner-city home, so after a few days of planning she and her team descended on him in force.

Kris Starmer had inherited a private college specializing in communications skills, so it was no surprise that he was interested in the project, and his Woollahra mansion certainly had the space.

Erin and the other team members started by writing their own letters and commentaries, and encouraged outsiders’ letters by publishing them all — all those that made any sense, at least.

Given that it tapped into a source of ideas and information from a much wider pool, there was also a good chance of attracting the attention of Global Unity intelligence agents. On the other hand, it would also act as a weather vane for untainted public opinion.

Widespread support for the idea ensured that it would go ahead but initially, Erin was at a loss about what to call it. Many good suggestions were put forward but none seemed quite right until Sebastian, an old university friend of Reimas’s, came up with the right one. Their goal, as he said, was to build a world where things moved at a slower pace and there was more time to smell the roses not to mention grow them.

The Rose it became, and there was no shortage of editorial contributions, from members or otherwise. The Little River Revolution had so far avoided the Internet because its strength was in its ability to avoid traceable forms and functions, and it had lacked the strength in arms to protect its members. Now, however, the GI had to go out on a limb to build a more popular base, and it had much greater means to protect it.

Essentially, The Rose acted as a forum and network for both the politically aware and the socially disillusioned but, since it was expected it would eventually attract notice from the elements it was set against, there was a high level of concealed security guarding the house. Fortunately, this particular house was ideal for the job — large, well secured and, like so many places at the time, surrounded by high masonry walls.

Erin and Sebastian travelled to it each day to work on the commentary and editorials. Kris looked after the layout and used his own secretaries to do the basic editing of the letters.

One of the original Institute agents, Lindel, also assisted regularly and, between them, they were able to produce a news and public forum service that raised more than a few eyebrows, propelling itself to the centre of the arena where increasingly urgent issues of concern were discussed. It had been several decades since any large circulation printed newspaper had truly served in that way.

Not much was printed in the popular media without containing some sort of hidden agenda. Shortsighted self-interest on the part of all the media corporations inclined them to focus on extolling the virtues of clients and their products while actively casting aspersions on their main competitors. Certainly, for the press’s purposes, it was more fruitful to actively repress the sorts of ideas that might undermine their market control.

With a herding agenda in mind, the corporate media constantly manipulated public taste to influence aspects of fashion in a way that was intended to increase their grip on peoples’ lives. Comment on politics or political leaders usually had more to do with politicians’ personal lives and sense of style than any sort of serious debate.

The Rose was the first Global Institute project to fully get off the ground, though it held back from open affiliation with it, and grew at a rate that surprised all involved. Its rapid success could, in part, be explained by the word of mouth contacts it had depended on from the beginning. Little River people also availed themselves of the service, to stay in touch with daily events, not to mention the debate initiated by its editors.

As a self-confessed frustrated journalist, Erin took great pleasure in undermining the credibility of the grubby corporate media, not to mention their readership numbers. Much of the material was hard hitting. One of the first investigative reporting coups involved a case where children had been detained for questioning by the national secret police and had subsequently disappeared without trace, never to be seen again.

Other similar reports, involving alleged torture committed in an institutional way by public authorities in a number of countries, attracted considerable interest. After a mere two weeks of daily publication, the hit rate was enviable, and the feelings demonstrated in the letters reached powder keg status.

Reimas was captivated and stayed in touch by receiving a hand delivered data chip at Jos’s, where he was staying. He also contributed to it occasionally but refrained from becoming directly involved. It was, after all, only a single tool in a complex game.

Erin flew in one afternoon to give him a personal update on what was happening with The Rose. She found him in the studio that Sasha had put together; taking a break from the hectic round of meetings and conferences that characterized the GI’s initial organizational phase.

On this occasion, she was pleased to find there was no one else with him. As she entered, he turned to greet her, and something in his eyes gave her a hint of the surprise to come.

“I was expecting you,” he said.

“I don’t know why. I didn’t tell you I was coming.”

“The Rose is going well. We’re getting loads of enquiries and quite a few new members every day. You were right on the money.”

“There’s no such thing as too many people?”

“Not now,” he replied. “Once they get through screening, I believe we might trust them enough to enter the first level of involvement. Sure, it will add to the sum total of our responsibility, but everyone involved knows the world situation is not our doing.”

“Naturally. We’re a cooperative alliance. From the letters I’ve seen, everyone just wants to know what’s behind all the corporate irresponsibility and the near world-wide array of Bolshie regimes in disguise, not to mention what they can do to resist them.”

“Feelings are running strong,” he agreed, “though I must say nothing else has happened yet that might help us pinpoint the source of the problem. We’ll have to give it time.”

“When our foe eventually rears its ugly head, we can only do our best to counter it.”

Reimas laughed.

“I suspect something will happen after the next meeting.”

“It’s here, in Sydney, isn’t it?”

“Yes, tonight.”

“I don’t know why they’ve tolerated us this calmly, so far.”

“I believe the Rose has contributed to that. It confuses them and makes them think we’re more influential than they had originally thought. Maybe they’re a little fascinated by it too, but tonight we’re really going to put the cat amongst the pigeons.”

“Good, I’ll make sure to come.”