All in Good Time

by Mackey Chandler

  Eileen stirred at the activity. Vic woke her gently and explained what was happening and Mast’s offer. “We’re partners, so I want your agreement to do that big of a deal with Mast.”

  “I don’t trust my judgment when I’m so sleepy, but I think Mast is good people and trustworthy. He treats everybody right that comes to the festival. There must be problems now and then but he takes care of them quietly. Keeping locals in charge of the county sounds good. If he didn’t do it I’d hope somebody else would. If you feel the same about him as I do, then do what you think is best,” Eileen said.

  When Mast returned he set the table himself. “I consulted with Eileen and we both have confidence in you to take your deal,” Vic said. “Do we need to go back out tonight to arrange transportation?”

  Mast looked surprised, and then amused. “No, in the morning will be just fine.”

  * * *

  “They intend to make a show trial of it,” April said, waving at the wall screen. She sounded calm but there was fire in her eyes, and Jeff examined the news report carefully.

  The Department of Justice announced prosecution of Irwin Hall following the seizure of illegal coins and securities in the Space Port of Miami. It was quite a list of agencies. The FBI, Secret Service, Treasury Department, Mint Police, Border Patrol, US Marshalls, TSA, Port of Miami Police, plus state, city and county agencies all wanted credit for having a hand in his apprehension. You’d think they had hunted him down as a fugitive.

  The list of laws and charges were longer, most just referenced by statute number. Jeff decided there was no point in looking up each of them in detail. They all missed the point the entire action was in violation of treaty terms with Home, which was also completely ignored in the press. In fact, nowhere did it explicitly name Irwin as a citizen of Home. Jeff found that disturbing. Did they intend to deny Irwin ever validly renounced his North American citizenship? Did they intend to not only deny the treaty but Home’s actual existence? That could get difficult given the number of states such as Japan, Tonga, Australia, France, and Russia that recognized Home.

  “I’m afraid you are right,” Jeff admitted. “I’m concerned now that somebody may call an early Assembly and move to declare war on North America again. This is so public and so extreme in repudiating the treaty that somebody will surely get upset about it, even if they aren’t a friend of Irwin or do business with his bank. Do they sit around down there and try to find the stupidest thing they could do, and then act on it?”

  “It seems like it sometimes,” April agreed. “All I can think to do is get ahead of them and make a strong statement myself. Maybe then anyone outraged will wait and see how that works out before acting themselves. The problem with the Assembly becoming involved is they won’t act just to get Irwin released. It will be about the treaty violation as a matter of principle and he’ll become an afterthought. If they start hostilities with North America he’s likely to be held longer under heavier security. I’m afraid a second war with them will be much uglier than the first. Much worse than anything I’d do to get Irwin released.”

  “Yes,” Jeff agreed, “our restraint in the war was unappreciated. We avoided damaging critical infrastructure such as dams and power plants that kept the civilian population from freezing or starving to death. But it was their own dishonesty in minimizing the extent of their damages to the public that gave the political opposition room to object they surrendered too easily. What could they say? No politician is going to admit he lied. If the real military casualty lists had been exposed they would have had far bigger problems.”

  “Pretty much everybody on Home understands that,” Lee said. “That’s why if they push us into another war the electorate here will want to trash them in a very brutal public way, so they can’t deny they were thoroughly beaten this time. They’ve had a huge migration of population to the south, but millions could still freeze and starve if the power plants and distribution grids are destroyed.”

  “Then there is Texas…” Jeff said.

  “Yeah, if North America is damaged badly they are going to grab more territory.”

  “To the point that I’m not sure North America will be viable long term,” Jeff said. “They certainly would never regain any control over Mexico. Texas will block any attempt to encircle them again to the west, and they could push all the way east to the Atlantic.”

  “Then, after some consolidation, the next logical thing for Texas would be to push up the middle and divide the North East from the North West,” April decided. “Given the climate, that would effectively isolate them from each other economically and militarily several months a year. Texas could defeat one side or the other while they were isolated.”

  “That’s a real possibility down the road,” Jeff said, “but I would really rather we don’t get blamed by history for precipitating it. There would be tremendous suffering. Not that they might not be easier to deal with, but still.”

  “OK, you can help me plan,” April offered. “The problem is how to beat them up a little, so the public honor is satisfied, and Irwin released, but without starting a huge general war.”

  “Agreed, but we will need to consult some others,” Jeff said.

  * * *

  In the morning, Eileen struggled to sit up and swung her legs off the bed straight out. She woke up Vic with a little moan. Her first try at standing up resulted in her sitting back down, hard.

  “A little stiff are we?” Vic asked too cheerfully. His sweet bride had never looked at him that way before. She wasn’t willing to joke about this. He wasn’t much better, but he tried to hide it. He moved awkwardly and didn’t succeed.

  “There’s a chamber pot,” Vic said, pointing. “You don’t have to march downstairs and straight to the outhouse.”

  “Is that what that is? I wonder where Mast ever got that?”

  “Probably like all the stuff that’s useful again now, out of the attic. Folks with a big old house and land like this didn’t need to sell them off to antique shops and it’s too far out in the middle of nowhere to get much action at a yard sale. Country people stuck this kind of stuff away in the attic before there were garage sales and tag sales.”

  “Yard sales! I forgot about them. Mom would burn up half a tank of gas driving around to paw through other folk’s junk. The big buyers were the Mexican field hands. They’d buy up all this stuff for a dime on a dollar and then after picking season was done take it home. It was real treasure back home in some mountain village.”

  Vic sat on the other side of the bed dressing, back to Eileen to give some token privacy. This was an activity they didn’t usually share, even in the bush.

  Eileen looked up and frowned while dressing herself. “I meant to ask you. Where do you think the salt guys got enough gas to run their truck? I can’t believe anybody is trucking it in from the outside yet.”

  “They may have found a gas station where nobody pumped it out after the power died. Or they found kerosene. Some old straight four or six-cylinder engines can be altered to run on it pretty well. Or they may have a moonshiner cranking out enough volume to sell some for fuel. In theory, you can even make gas from a wood generator, but it is big and clunky.”

  “But you never tried. Your truck is up on blocks,” Eileen said.

  “Mine is very fussy about fuel. It’s all computer controlled and modern. I put it up and took the plugs out and squirted oil in the cylinders while I could still turn it over. I figure I will never use it again unless I can buy a new battery and tires. It might be a while.”

  “I think I heard Mast slamming the firebox door,” Eileen said. “Let’s get down there.”

  * * *

  Breakfast was the half a skillet of cornbread left from last night, and a real treat, eggs scrambled with peppers and onions. Mast didn’t stint on them.

  “Oh my goodness,” Eileen said, “I think you are buttering us up for something.”

  “Wish I could butter up anything,” Mast said. “It’s too he
avy to bring in from Nevada and it’s all imported from points south there, so it’s priced ridiculously. I get some shell eggs regularly from the guy who sells chicken at the festival this summer. He lives along the road to O’Neil’s, you’ll see his place and a big low building and fenced run. He ran out of stuff to preserve the eggs and slaughtered a lot of the chickens for the festival. He doesn’t get enough feed off his land to keep a big flock over the winter. He ran so low he had to let a bunch of chickens forage for themselves, and lost a few to foxes and who knows what else doing that.”

  “We should buy some fertile eggs from him and start our own,” Eileen told Vic.

  “You’re starting to look antsy,” Mast commented to Vic. “Don’t worry. I have everything under control. Enjoy your breakfast and we’ll get you on the road in a little bit.”

  Mast waved Eileen away from doing the dishes and motioned them to follow him. Sometimes he got quiet like that. The outbuilding he took them to was of concrete block with an electric light hanging out over the door. That hadn’t shone in awhile of course. There were windows in steel casement frames and not busted out. He went to a window first.

  “If anybody gets this far I want them to be able to look inside. What is more useless now than a big riding lawn mower with all the attachments?” He took them back to the door and opened it with a key. “What you can’t see from the windows is this.” He pulled a tarp back and showed them a dirt bike with saddlebags. It was spray-painted all over by hand with a dull camo pattern of brown and tan with few little green details. Even the bright parts like the engine case, wheels, and tire sidewalls were made dull.

  “It’ll go about a hundred kilometers on a tank, maybe a little less with both of you on it. That’s plenty to go to O’Neil’s and back twice. It’s supposed to go a hundred and fifteen kilometers an hour but I think you’d have to be crazy to do that. I had it up to fifty-five a few times. It makes a lot more noise going fast too. There’s no need to advertise to folks you are coming. You can ride one can’t you?” He was nice enough to include Eileen in his glance.

  “This is wonderful. I thought yesterday you probably had somebody nearby who you could hire horses from, but what if I wrecked it or it gets stolen from me? There’s no way I could ever replace it for you,” Vic protested.

  “Truth is, if I lose the bike odds are we’ll lose you too. Just be aware there are folks out there who’d kill you for this now, so I encourage you not to stop for folks who might try to flag you down. I’m taking the plate off. It’s expired but who knows whether somebody can still trace it back to me. I’ve been to O’Neil’s. He can store this hidden and safe inside until you return.”

  When Vic hesitated, his face reflecting that he was having a hard time taking responsibility for such a valuable item. Mast went on: “Yes it’s valuable, but if it’s so very valuable that we’re scared to use it at all, then it’s useless to us.”

  “Alright,” Vic agreed. “Eileen, bring our stuff from the house, please. I want to do a couple turns around the house and barn to see what it feels like before I stick her on the back,” Vic requested.

  “Have at it,” Mast invited. “Try not to make it buzz too loud here. You can do that out on some isolated stretch if you want.”

  He passed Eileen on the way to the house and she gave him a big grin. He kept it down, mindful not to dig a track in the grass too. When he returned to Mast he declined the offer of a helmet too. He intended to go slow and wanted to see and hear everything clearly.

  Eileen returned with both guns and everything condensed to one small backpack she could wear. She gave him his extra magazines, and his sunglasses, but slung his rifle behind her and put her own in front between them. Vic nodded that would work and made sense.

  “See you in a few days,” Vic said. Mast smiled and didn’t step up to shake his hand, just gave a little wave. “If something should happen we don’t come back, take Albert my neighbor and dig inside the northeast corner of my barn,” Vic said. “Split what’s there with him. He already has the combo to my safe, and we have an understanding already that’s his.”

  Mast just nodded, and they pulled away and turned down the road without looking back.

  * * *

  “I’m trying to think how to be moderate,” April said.

  “I know it doesn’t come easily,” Jeff said. He seemed serious, not teasing or snarky.

  “No, it isn’t, especially because I don’t see the favor returned at all,” April said. “There wasn’t a problem until the North Americans went out of their way to create one.”

  “Have you figured out how to only beat them up a little as you said?” Jeff asked her.

  “No, and it’s obvious Chen doesn’t want to advise me.”

  “Look at the story Chen told us about how he got his family out of China,” Jeff suggested. “He knows you are one to be outspoken and take direct action. He was far more subtle and didn’t try to confront his enemies among his own people directly. He kept it quiet and still achieved what he wanted without bringing it into the public eye.”

  “He had plans and resources already in place. I can hardly do anything from here without making a fuss. I’m not about to go back to North America again myself. I’m not sure I’m ready to go back to Hawaii since they got independence. Diana assures me everything is sweet and settled but I’m cautious.”

  April looked suddenly thoughtful.

  “Unless you are suggesting I hire a mercenary force to free him?” April asked. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

  “No, I was talking with Otis Dugan and you should have seen his facial expressions contemplating a rescue mission. It would be messy, risky, and he had no appetite to raise a force and attempt it. He pointed out Irwin might not survive the attempt.”

  “OK. That’s something I didn’t consider. But like Chen, I’m not hearing much of anything actually useful to me. Do you have any suggestions to do rather than not do?”

  Jeff looked grim, but thoughtful. April kept her mouth shut because she was pretty sure she’d finally nudged him into his analytical mode with her question.

  “It’s a shame to ever need to use force, but these people seem to be stone deaf to anything else. All I can suggest is doing something to cost them money. They care about that a great deal. I’d try very hard to avoid hurting anyone. The press will use that against you, and the public cares, but realistically their rulers deal in human lives as a currency every day. You can’t even have a military without losing people in training, and they throw them away in ideological gestures with little concern. Find something expensive and break it after warning them. Keep it up until it hurts before you put people in danger.”

  “Dan already clipped a bit off their currency with his announcement,” April said.

  “Yes, but that’s rather abstract to most people. I’m sure it horrified a few people in the Treasury Department and currency traders in big banks, but tell your average person that his dollar just lost two percent against the yen and they won’t care. The government itself steals that much most years by inflating the money and it isn’t enough to provoke them. It’s been that way all their lives and they feel it’s just the normal way things are.”

  “Oh! Thank you. That helps a lot. It needs to be visible and expensive and upset your everyday working person. I know just the thing. Since the war, they have rebuilt some of the Mississippi River bridges. They are expensive and very visible and people use them every day. I can announce I am destroying one a day until they release Irwin and there isn’t any way they can keep it secret or stop me. What does a bridge cost now?” April asked.

  “The way the dollar is headed, a fifty billion dollar bridge is pretty common,” Jeff said. Something like a major long bridge over a harbor or coastal inlet can be hundreds of billions of dollars. The bigger expense is all the lost business and extra expense to move things. Also, since Texas is threatening the USNA middle, cutting Mississippi bridges makes it harder for the west and east secti
ons to support each other.”

  April thought on that. “Has Texas shown any favor to Home or Central at all?”

  “Several Republic of Texas politicians have expressed official neutrality. I think there is a legacy of public disapproval they would have to overcome. You don’t just wave a magic wand and remove all the years of propaganda against us. If any of their officials were seen wanting to be close to the evil and crazy Spacers it might not go over too well with a lot of their people. On the other hand, Texas has no sanctions or tariffs against us but they aren’t offering landing rights or trying to lure Home tourists.”

  “Then I’ll start closer to Texas where it will hurt North America’s ability to shift forces across the river to counter Texas the most,” April decided.

  “See? I knew you could come up with something,” Jeff said.

  * * *

  Vic was pretty smooth on the dirt bike. He quickly got in the habit of building up speed and then coasting whenever he saw a mailbox to go past a house as quietly as possible. Along one stretch they passed a boy and girl maybe twelve and fourteen years old carrying a laundry basket of apples between them. They sat it down and just watched open-mouthed as the bike approached. At the last, they both waved and Eileen on the back waved back.

  John the chicken farmer’s place was just as obvious as Mast described. Vic pulled up in front of the house and gave a little toot on the bike’s horn. The man looked out the front door disbelieving and they saw him lean over and set a long gun against the wall inside.