9
Dená Provisional Capitol, Tanana, Dená Republik
“We have a quorum,” President Nathan Roubitaux said with a firm gavel rap. “The War Council will now come to order.”
Representative Blue Bostonman quickly stood and stared at the president.
“Representative Bostonman, do you have something to say for the good of the order?”
“I move that the Dená people need to form a civilian government immediately. There are treaties and permissions being thrown around that will affect them for years.” She dropped back into her seat.
“Do we have a second for Representative Bostonman?” Nathan asked.
Every hand shot up. Nathan pursed his lips and stared around the room long enough to rein in his anger.
“Very well.” His voice rapidly chilled like a northern front. “The floor is open.”
Five of the seven delegates stood.
“We’ll do it in reverse alphabetical order,” Nathan said with a frosty smile. “Mr. Ustinov?”
“The people have fought a very costly war, still not finished from what I have heard. We claim to be the Dená Republik, but are not republik in fact, perhaps a military state?”
“Maybe a military dictatorship?” Eleanor Wright said with a growl.
Nathan rapped his gavel twice. “One at a time, please. Everyone will get his or her chance to speak. Did you have more to say, Representative Ustinov?”
“If we do not create a representative government, the people will turn on us. I will turn on us!”
“So noted, Mr. Ustinov.” Nathan pointed to another delegate. “Representative Wright?”
“You don’t know your alphabet, Nathan,” she said with a quick smile. “When we leave this meeting today, we have to tell our constituents when there will be a constitutional convention and how they will pick people to serve on it. Without a constitution we have nothing; we’ll be a big tribe, not a nation.”
Nathan held up his hand, “Eleanor, we’re still fighting a war. Every village has people in the field. How can we select delegates to a constitutional convention if everyone doesn’t have a chance to vote?”
“C’mon, Nathan, that’s the least of our problems.” Her dark eyes flashed in irritation. “We can distribute ballots to every man and woman in the Army and they can vote for the people they want. Everybody gets one vote and every district gets one delegate, sounds simple to me.”
Anna Samuel from Fort Yukon stood up. “I think it’s my turn to speak, Nathan. Eleanor is right. We can’t keep telling everyone that nothing can be done until the war is over.
“The Russians have asked for a cease-fire and the British have folded their tent and run off in the night. This war is finished for all intents and purposes. You—we—cannot drag our feet any longer.” She looked around the room, making eye contact with every other delegate before sitting down.
More hands shot into the air and Nathan held both hands above his head. “Okay, I surrender. If you want a constitutional convention, you’ll get one. We need at least three people to work together to set up the delegate election.”
Every hand in the room shot up again.
“We need to do this logically,” Nathan said. “Claude, you’re as downriver as a person can get and you know the diplomatic ropes: you’re selected. Gennady, you’re about as upriver as a person can get and still be in Dená country: you’re number two.”
The room grew even quieter as they waited for the third committee member to be chosen. Nobody questioned Nathan’s right to make the selection; after all, he was the president.
“Anna, you’re midriver, and you know folks from all over the Dená Republik, so I think you’d make an excellent, third committee person.”
Anna stood. “Thank you, Nathan. Claude, Gennady and I have a lot of work to do, so as soon as we decide when this election will be held, we’re going to leave this body and convene our committee.”
“How much time do you need?”
Claude stood. “I think we can have it all organized to hold an election three months from today. Assuming, of course, that we have logistic help from the military.”
“So ordered,” Nathan said with an insincere smile. “Now we must decide whether or not to officially consider the unification request from the provisional Tlingit Nation.”
Blue stood. “Since we all have a lot to do, why don’t we just consider the question and skip the first part?”
“You’re out of order!” Nathan said, rapping his gavel.
“But she’s right,” Anna said with a grin. “There’s too much fancy stuff to wade through if we do everything your way, Nathan.”
“Do we offer the Tlingits a unification treaty or not?” Nathan said with some heat.
“This is why we need a real government,” Gennady Ustinov said. “We need to put the best minds we have to working on this idea.”
“General Grigorievich, do you have a question?” Nathan asked.
Grisha lowered his hand and rested it on the arm of his wheelchair. “More of an observation, Mr. President. The Tlingits, my people, are just as tired of Russian domination as you are. You know them, have traded and intermarried with them for centuries before the Russians ever discovered Alaska. The concept of an Alaskan Republik is as forward-looking and sensible as anything I’ve heard yet. My recommendation would be to send a delegation to them to confer and come up with a workable plan for unification.”
“Thank you, General,” Nathan said, looking around at the others. “Any other thoughts on this?”
Andrew Isaac stood. “I think we should send the general. He knows his people and he knows us. Wing should go with him as his wife and as a fellow delegate. If we can’t trust those two, we can’t trust anybody.”
As soon as Andrew sat down, Joanne Kaiser called out, “I move we vote on it.”
“Second the motion,” Gennady said.
Moments later Grisha and Wing were declared ambassadors to the Tlingit Nation.
“Now if we can just get you there safely,” Nathan said.