Free All That We Are (The Commander Book 7) by Randall Farmer Page A

ourselves only after the battle starts.  Pin the Hunters and their troops down from surprise and then take them apart.”
    “That’s horrible!” Flo said, wincing, angry, and white faced.  “You can’t just do that to a wedding!  We’d be endangering too many innocents!”  Focus Ackerman turned to Lori, who was studying her hands.  Not meeting anyone’s gaze.  “Lori!  You can’t!  This is insane!”
    Silence.
    Gilgamesh thought the idea through.  Tiamat’s plan was more than just rude.  On the other hand, from his juice meditations he knew if Focus Rickenbach held her wedding in the Detroit area, the Hunters would attack it. Tiamat’s idea was crazy risky.  It would be much safer to convince the young Focus to move her wedding to some justice of the peace’s office somewhere else in Michigan.
    On the other hand, such a defensive action would attract Crows by the boatload, at least in the shadows.
    “The Commander is right,” Lori said, voice low and controlled, formal.  Eyes still watching her hands.  Patently not using her charisma.  The room would be difficult to convince.  Only he, Lori, Tiamat and a now happy Kali thought this was a good idea.  “This plan is the only way this can work.”
    “This is insane,” Flo said, standing.  “I won’t be any part of anything so ridiculous.  I’ve stood by for the rest of your risky endeavors, but this goes too far and goes against everything I believe in.  There’s no need for us to do anything of the sort!  I’ve never…”
    “Sit.  Back.  Down,” Focus Biggioni said, to Flo.  Flo sat, battered down by a wave of charisma stronger than Gilgamesh had ever felt before.  Sinclair’s hand clenched his, tight, fighting panic, and Gilgamesh reached to his left across Carol’s empty spot for the nearest available hand, which turned out to be Kali’s.  She gave him a knowing glance and didn’t shake her hand free.  Hera’s charismatic outburst had unsettled the Arm, as well.  “Being a Focus is all about hard choices, and I refuse to let you embarrass the Focus community by stalking out of this meeting.”  Tonya turned to Lori, now more polite but no less charismatic.  “I’d like to hear your explanation, Lori.”
    Lori leaned back minutely, and then nodded.  “As you all know, the Focus Council still refuses to even admit that male Major Transforms exist.”  And there went Lori’s charisma, focused on Hera.  “If you, Tonya, can get this recognition through the next Council meeting, and I think that’s a big if, I predict months, if not years, between when the Council admits there’s a problem and when the first Focuses are going to be willing to expend any effort to solve the problem.  At the earliest, they might get something put together by the summer meeting of 1969.  More likely, summer of 1970.  This assumes no other pressing problems will arise, and, well, I have my doubts about that, too.  Since we won’t be able to get official sanction to fight Rogue Crow, we have to take matters into our own hands.  Based on the previous discussion, the Commander’s new plan is the only one we have to work with.  I think it’ll work.”
    Lori raised her eyes and loosed her charisma on the rest of the room.  “Two other issues are on a collision course that might forever put off any agreement on action against Rogue Crow.  First, the incoming Nixon administration is going to be far less friendly toward Transforms than the Kennedy-Johnson administrations.  Second, there’s the demographic problem.  By the end of 1970, we’re predicting a rate of twenty one thousand cases of Transform Sickness a year, 50% more Focuses than we have now, and up to a half dozen active Arms, depending on Arm mortality.  We’re past the point in time where Transforms and Transform politics will be occurring under the radar.  If events turn ugly, as they easily could, we might be facing internment camps or worse.  Our window of